Herbs Covered

Wall Barley – native spread of our land.
Sow thistle.
Plantain.
Great willow herb.
Redshank.
Moss.
Coriander - grown in Hawbush Community garden patch.
Peppermint.
Nettles.

Wood Avens (clove root)
we particularly engaged with this herb in the session. A local indigenous herb once used to spice food.

Weather as Teacher: Hail

I’ve had a little read up on what hailstorms represent. Two opposing forces meet — in the scientific sense, opposing weather-fronts and seasons — clashing into thunder and lightning, resulting in water metamorphosing into ice. 

Hailstorms bring both destruction and nourishment, as do seasonal shifts. We need the rain for the dry ground after such a long spell without it, and though ice in September feels strange, the atmosphere at Hawbush after the storm had passed bought light and renewal, a fresh palette for us to explore herbs. The weather than provides an important reference for us to understanding herbs more deeply. 

After a summer of heat and drought, fauna and flora have bloomed sooner than anticipated: berries have come and gone on the bramble (as Clare shared with us, a sign of heat stress), and rosehips are already softening even though we are yet to experience the first frost. 

Across traditions, hail is seen as a powerful, even frightening phenomenon, embodying divine force and the triumph of clarity through hardship. It breaks down barriers, like truth cutting through falsity. Plants are experiencing false seasons and acting from a place of stress against the natural order of things.

From a Guardian article (2022):

“Trees and bushes have got really stressed because of the drought. Their response is to put all their efforts into producing more seeds, because that helps them pass their genes on to the next generation. It may be their last gasp for getting progeny.”

Iain Webb, Wildlife Trust for Bedfordshire, Cambridgeshire and Northamptonshire. Read in full here;
www.theguardian.com/environment/2022/sep/25/autumn-uk-milder-season-flora-fauna

You may notice as you traverse and explore Hawthorn bushes laden with berries, heaps of Acorns and Conkers littering the ground, squirrels and nuthatches feasting on hazelnuts — all signs that plants are responding to survival threats. 

More-Than-Human Kin

When we speak of more-than-human kin, what we’re doing is noticing life in the natural world, of which we are members.

Our community is not only human: it is the environment we ‘utilise’ for our existence — wood, food, root, hoot. There is undeniable life in all that grows and flows, and in noticing plants, animals and land as non-human, we recognise our role in the great song of life.

Cecilia in the group referenced sentience as a term to recognise living things. When we engage in this reverence, we are simply taking advantage of our senses and inviting presence into our daily actions: noticing what grows, what supports our wellbeing, and applying gratitude, all essential to HERBALISM.

After the hail cleared, Parakeet, Blackbird, and Thrush joined us in song. Fox was recognised by one of our younger members who saw a fox by their tails on the field. Ladybird arrived through story, memory and poetry. 

Parakeet myths.

How did the African bird come into the West Midlands community?

There’s a myth attached to Jimi Hendricks who, back in the 60’s, released parakeets in London to symbolise PEACE. Other myths include escaped parakeets from Dudley Zoo a couple of decades ago, and pets escaping or being set free.

Caged Bird
By Maya Angelou

A free bird leaps
on the back of the wind   
and floats downstream   
till the current ends
and dips his wing
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and   
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings   
with a fearful trill   
of things unknown   
but longed for still   
and his tune is heard   
on the distant hill   
for the caged bird   
sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams   
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream   
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied   
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings   
with a fearful trill   
of things unknown   
but longed for still   
and his tune is heard   
on the distant hill   
for the caged bird   
sings of freedom.

Ladybird
By Hayley Frances

Wishes of the child's imagination
take flight off finger pads
on gusts of breath that try
to blow out candles on birthdays
they fly
like tiny red lanterns
of light hearted wants
or dreams
we’ll never let go of.