It’s hard to believe it, but just a year ago this lush, fragrant, bee-buzzing cornucopia of flowering herbs was a bare patch of charred ash. The field containing our beloved forest garden had been tinder-dry, and it took just a casual spark to set it alight. The blaze was mercifully contained to a relatively small area, but it’s clear now that not only did the fire fail to destroy the forest garden, it has fuelled an incredible green recovery – thanks in part to the decision taken to turn one corner into a herbal patch.
It’s been mizzling rain and scattering sun, on and off, for at least a month now. The air is humid and cool, and everyone’s got used to dressing in layers. A group of us have come to the herbal area to learn about some of the plants from a medicinal herbalist, Helen Kearney. Beneath her natty felt fedora, Helen’s face is alight with excitement. She runs her fingers through the white daisy-like flowers and feathery fronds of Roman chamomile, fluffing it up like a bouffant. “Smell that! Amazing. It’s so pungent. For tea, you only need two flowers per cup.”
She points out sage, thyme and lavender – along with chamomile, they make a deliciously relaxing bath. Lemon balm lifts the spirits and is an excellent digestif. St John’s wort is a great antiviral and gets its Latin name, Hypericum perforatum, from what look like tiny perforations on its leaves: these are oil sacs.
As we move from patch to patch, each plant steps into the limelight. Comfrey’s healing powers have earned it the common name knitbone; all plants in the mint family have square stems; the leaves of marsh mallow are soft as velvet. Yarrow (Achillea millefolium) is good for staunching cuts and wounds.
“You won’t protect what you don’t care about, and you can’t care about what you don’t know,” Helen says. In introducing us so courteously to these amazing plants, she kindles a connection. We know their names. We’re starting to recognise them from afar, like picking out a family member in a crowd. If we look after them, they will return the favour. And there’s the rub, the deep truth we forget at our peril: we are all plant-based.
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