I’m not a grower. I don’t have tidy rows of cultivated herbs or a greenhouse full of seedlings. I’m a forager. I walk the land, I listen, and I work with what grows—gratefully, reverently, and with full-hearted trust in nature’s timing. Since moving here less than four years ago, something curious has happened… the plants have come. Not all at once, not always the ones I expected, but the land has responded with an explosion of green life that still humbles me.
That said, some herbs simply weren’t here. I hadn’t found Mugwort, or Goat’s Rue, or any of those more elusive spirit-soaked plants I felt called to work with. And so, for the first time, I planted them. I’m not green-fingered. I don’t have all the answers. But I wanted to bring them in—to show them to those who come to our Herbal Remedies Workshops and to build my own relationship with them. Some plants, like Mugwort, rooted beautifully—she’s growing strong now, silvery and soft. Others, like Catnip, seem to have vanished entirely (possibly into the bellies of my four cats). I’m learning what each one needs. I now know that Persian Silk Tree, for instance, will grow into something grand and will need her own space. This isn’t a gardener’s blog—it’s a love letter to learning with the land.
Yarrow has come too—finally! Two beautiful bushes, standing strong among the grasses. During our last workshop, I was able to show participants exactly what she looks like in her full, growing glory—especially helpful in contrast to the abundant Mare’s Tail we have here, which can look deceptively similar when picked. Seeing them side by side in the ground is a gift.
The garden patch has become a place of discovery, not just for me, but for those who come here to reconnect with the old ways. When we host our herbal gatherings, these plants become part of the teaching—not just through what they do, but who they are.
Mugwort has been my deepest wish. Dream-bringer. Veil-walker. She’s the womb herb I longed to meet on this land, and now she’s here. Her silver leaves shimmer beside the path, and she speaks in dreams, aches, and ancestral remembering. She’ll feature heavily in our upcoming Womb Wisdom Weekend—not just for her physical role in menstrual and menopausal support, but for how she calls us back into our bodies and our inner knowing.
Valerian, too, anchors deeply here. Her scent is divisive—earthy, some say cheesy—but her spirit is unmistakable. She holds the wisdom of rest, the Crone who says, “It’s safe to stop.” There’s something ancient and unbending in her energy, a guardian of thresholds and surrender. She will absolutely be part of our Relaxation & Sleep sessions, but more than that—she teaches people how to stop running from themselves.
Feverfew, sprightly and sharp, carries the bite of old anger ready to rise. She’s a heat clearer—not just for migraines, but for righteous rage that’s stuck in the head, too long ignored. She’s for those whose minds overfire, whose hormones spark without grounding. She belongs in both our Womb Wisdom and ADHD Support offerings.
Goat’s Rue is close to my heart, especially as someone navigating type 1 diabetes and growing insulin resistance. This unassuming little plant is what inspired the creation of Metformin, but unlike its pharmaceutical cousin, Goat’s Rue feels alive, gentle, and in tune with the body’s rhythm. I’m learning to walk with her as part of my personal herbal journey. She’ll feature in our Gut Health Workshop, not just for what she does to support the pancreas and blood sugar, but for what she teaches about reclaiming trust in your body.
Wormwood arrived like a whisper—quiet, slightly bitter, and full of witchy lore. She’s a protector, a vision-keeper, and a no-nonsense ally in clearing what no longer serves. She strengthens intuition, supports the womb, and opens doors to spiritual realms while also being brilliant for digestion and parasite support. She’s part of our Womb Wisdom and Gut Health work.
Teasel is unlike any other. She grows like a guardian—spiky and strange, with energy that reaches both down into the bones and out toward the edges of pain. Traditionally linked to Lyme and deep, persistent inflammation, she also holds the spirit of resilience. I use her when working with those who carry chronic fatigue, energetic depletion, or old trauma in the tissue. Her root is a guide—not quick, but steady.
Woad surprised me. I planted her for her dye, but her presence is something else entirely. She feels like a bridge between worlds—used historically in body paint by ancient warriors, she still holds the frequency of strength and identity. Woad speaks to those needing to stand in who they are, boldly. I believe she’ll have a role to play in our ADHD Support spaces—helping people feel sovereign in their sensitivity.
Bringing These Plants Into Our Gatherings
These wild and invited allies aren’t just “weeds”—they’re teachers, protectors, and companions. They speak in dreams, boundaries, and bitter truths. They show up in our circles, our cups, and our stories. And they’re here, growing—not because I’m a skilled gardener, but because I asked.
If you’re walking the healing path, whether as a forager, herbalist, energy worker, or simply someone seeking to live in deeper connection with the land, let these plants become part of your story.
Join us for one of our Herbal Remedies Workshops or seasonal gatherings to meet them in person. Come walk the path with me.
Let the garden speak. Let the land lead. It’s full of medicine, waiting.
All plant guidance is shared for educational and spiritual purposes only. Please consult a qualified herbalist before using strong herbs internally, especially during pregnancy or while on medication.