Spring is here, at last, and the world is all a-shimmer with dew and last night’s frost. After a long winter of dark and cold, the earth has begun to stir again. There’s a palpable change, and we can all sense it, in the air, in the earth, in our bodies. Spring is a season of new beginnings, inspiration, a time to create and explore. As nature begins to flourish around us, now is the perfect time to rejuvenate ourselves in the same fashion as the beckoning meadows. 

In spring, I like to gather nettles and violets. Nettles for their wealth of vitamins and minerals, and the energy boost they provide after sleepy winter months. Violets for their flavonoids, mucilage, and diuretic properties. They also taste mild and delicious in infusion form, making them ideal additions to mocktails.

Around this time of year, my mom would start crafting her incredible herbaceous mocktails; drinks that are both refreshing and healthful. I have many fond memories of us staving off the heat with her creations. My mom is an absolute wizard when it comes to mixing ingredients to just the right proportion, guided purely by intuition. She (and now I, thanks to her influence) never really measured things. It was always “a splash of this,” “a sprinkle of that.” As a result, each drink was a little unique, but somehow always perfectly balanced.

With herbaceous mocktails, the trick is balancing the bitter with the sweet, adding just enough sugar to lift the flavors without overpowering them. It’s also important to find the right ratio of ingredients; some herbs have stronger flavor profiles than others, so finding the right balance can feel rather alchemical at times. 

Living in California as I do, tacos aren’t just for Tuesdays–they are a way of life. There are taco trucks on nearly every corner, each ready to provide you with their own particular take on carne asada, al pastor, and spicy pollo soft tacos. And requisite with every order, at least for me, is a tall icy glass of Agua de Jamaica.

When I first learned that plants were medicine, my first thought was, How did I not know this sooner?

A lot of that probably has to do with growing up in Frederick, Maryland—a vast landscape of agricultural crops, where corn, soybeans, and a patchwork of wheat filled the fields. But even more had to do with my inability to access information that was freely circulating on the internet. As a Deaf kid in the nineties, I grew up alongside the boom of the internet. There was information out there—glimpses of herbalism, holistic health, alternative medicine, tending to the land—but much of it wasn’t captioned. Even television, a major source of knowledge and culture, was largely inaccessible. (Spoiler alert: it still is.)

Comfrey (Symphytum spp.) is a divisive plant in herbalism. There is some very serious contention about how to use it safely and effectively in the herbal community. Some say that it should never be consumed internally, while others drink tea made from the leaves. Some also say that you shouldn’t use plants that were even harvested from the same beds as comfrey for internal use. All of that is to say, there is some drama surrounding this plant! But first, let’s talk botany…

Our family farm, nestled in the northwoods of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, is a haven for medicinal plants. We have been stewards of this land for two and a half decades, and it is a joy to continue learning the ecosystems, seasons, and rhythms of life here. The farm is diverse, and we use organic, regenerative, and authentic agricultural techniques to tend fields and hoop houses of produce, herbs, perennials, shiitake mushrooms, pasture-raised pork and poultry, and grass-fed beef. Over the years, we have observed improvements in our soil and increasing biodiversity, both of which have invited wild, health-supporting weeds to flourish.

Arnica montana is an incredible plant called upon in our most common times of need. Specifically, arnica flowers are used topically for bumps, bruises, and muscle soreness. In other words, for basic discomforts of the human experience. It’s so effective, however, that it has made its way onto United Plant Savers’ At-Risk List.  

As with all of the botanicals we carry, we are always seeking the most sustainable ways to source herbs to ensure we are engaging in a practice that is beneficial to our farm partners, our customers, and the environment.  Luckily, we know some incredible farmers, and after many conversations and a years-long commitment of partnership, we were able to commission a plot of this specialty plant to be grown on a farm in Spain.

For those just beginning their herbal journey, it can be difficult to know where to start. There are so many kinds of herbalism to practice, niches to explore, and teachers to learn from. In my herbal journey, getting hands-on experience with herbs was THE most important part of it all. I could read about herbs all day long, but until I smelled, tasted, and felt the effects of the herbs, the information just didn't "stick" as well. That's one of the reasons I'm so passionate about sharing the basics of crafting herbal preparations.

The threads of the world are fraying. Each day, we lose species, language, soil, and culture. In just a handful of generations, we have been sold the narrative of radical independence: Be the army of one. Pull yourself up by your own bootstraps. Strive for the picket fence and the giant bank account. The philosophy and practice of extractive capitalism have created a world of loneliness and division.

But how do we even begin to imagine and understand the potential for solutions when the problems are so vast?

A few years ago, my husband and I spent some time in Western Europe and stayed in the home of a local amateur botanist. On one of our many treks through the countryside, she pointed to a lovely little flowering plant with spotted leaves and called it lungwort. Being from the mountains of Western Oregon, I had a “Wait, what?!” moment. Lungwort in my part of the world is a lichen that grows in the canopy of old growth forests. Pulmonaria officinalis is the lungwort I met in Europe, and Lobaria oregana is the lungwort I grew up with—two dramatically different botanicals that share the same common name.

I am a firm believer that soup is one of mankind’s greatest culinary creations. When you think about it, there are not many dishes out there that are dippable, slurpable, and all-around irresistible, but soup boasts all of these qualities and then some! Growing up as a cooking connoisseur-to-be, I vividly recall soup being one of my earliest culinary experiments. However, being the rather creative and chaotic child I was, my recipes often incorporated a few unusual ingredients (the stars of my soup were grass and puddle water—if that helps paint a picture). I’ve since refined my definition of what is considered “edible” and have learned to swap grass clippings and puddles for herbs and broth. Although my secret ingredients may be a bit different now, soup still stands as my all-time favorite dish to make! 

Before jumping into all the amazing qualities of American ginseng, I first wanted to share a bit about my personal journey with this plant. For a long time, I did not feel comfortable working with ginseng. A big part of my herbal practice is ensuring that I’m working with herbs in a way that honors the ecological and social impacts of my choices. As you may know, ginseng is on the United Plant Savers’ At-Risk List and is also in Appendix II of the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species list, meaning it is at risk of becoming extinct if trade is not better controlled. Ginseng has been on these lists for many years and remains a plant that continues to be overharvested and poached to the point of ecological harm. Yet over the years, several passionate industry peers have stepped up to the challenge of making ginseng sustainable and accessible while not affecting the already threatened wild stands.