Peggy Duke, “botanical illustrator par excellence,” peacefully found her way to the Green Garden above on April 1, 2021. Below is the beautiful obituary that her daughter Celia and friend Andrea wrote. I will deeply miss Peggy’s stories, happy hours, art discussions, and how she would correct my Latin plant name pronunciations. 🌿💕🌿 -Helen
The symphony of spring peepers has given way to the bellowing of wood frogs & trilling of tree frogs. 🐸
The birdsong orchestra is in full sing, greeting the day in joyous revelry & gratefulness for each thing. Each new day another harmony added to the melodies. Bluebirds & cardinals, goldfinch & phoebes. 🐤 The hawk mates are ever dancing up in the high breeze, adding their sharp vocals to the cacophony. 🦅
Pachysandra procumbens : Allegheny spurge
The creeks are ever flowing in steady singsong, since snowmelt to spring showers they swirl along.
The many colors of Erythronium americanum : trout lily
Sanguinaria canadensis : bloodroot
And the flowers.. Oh!the flowers! Little jewels dancing along the forest floor. Bedazzling light toes to stop & sigh a prose. Delighting the eyes and caressing the nose. 🌸
Thalictrum thalictroides : rue anemone
Hydrastis canadensis : goldenseal, unfurling & in bloom
The ephemerals are in full show, twirling in & out of the spotlight in fleeting droves. Hepatica then Thalictrum, Mertensia and Caulophyllum, swaying with the breezesong and shinning with the symphony. 🌼
Xanthorhiza simplicissima : yellowroot
Everyday a new enchantment, a new reason to slow down and see. A fresh moment unfurling with each rising sun, a fresh reason to stop & be. To embrace the wonder of childlike joy & fun, endlessly. 🌞🌸🌼
the prosetry in full, uninterrupted…
Ephemeral Woodland Spring Song
❁ The symphony of spring peepers has given way to the bellowing of wood frogs & trilling of tree frogs. 🐸 The birdsong orchestra is in full sing, greeting the day in joyous revelry & gratefulness for each thing. Each new day another harmony added to the melodies. Bluebirds & cardinals, goldfinch & phoebes. 🐤 The hawk mates are ever dancing up in the high breeze, adding their sharp vocals to the cacophony. 🦅 The creeks are ever flowing in steady singsong, since snowmelt to spring showers they swirl along. 💦 And the flowers.. Oh!the flowers! Little jewels dancing along the forest floor. Bedazzling light toes to stop & sigh a prose. Delighting the eyes and caressing the nose. 🌸 The ephemerals are in full show, twirling in & out of the spotlight in fleeting droves. Hepatica then Thalictrum, Mertensia and Caulophyllum, swaying with the breezesong and shinning with the symphony. 🌼 Everyday a new enchantment, a new reason to slow down and see. A fresh moment unfurling with each rising sun, a fresh reason to stop & be. To embrace the wonder of childlike joy & fun, endlessly. 🌞🌸🌼 .
As the sunlight slowly lengthens & the weather gets warmer, herb-y eyes are attentive for the spotting of this juicy, verdant little herb. As the freezing temperatures fade & the birdsong intensifies, the lovely maiden of spring starts offering herself in lawns, garden beds, city sidewalks, fields & forests all over.
After a cold, sleepy winter, likely full of heavy foods, our bodies crave the nourishing freshness of Mama Earth’s reawakening greenery. The first spring taste of wild edibles straight from the soil is an ineffable feeling & gift of sustenance for body & soul. Reminding us the Earth is ever cycling through death & rebirth, as are us human beings, and never ceases to provide just what we need in selfless offering.
Stellaria media is probably my favorite springtime wild edible. Stellaria, meaning star-like for its star shaped flowers, & media meaning average or middle; though it is far from “average” in my eyes. While a humble little ground cover indeed, it is a deeply nourishing food & medicine, adored by centuries of generations before us. It is a superb lymphatic mover, another testament to Mama Nature’s divine timing in offering just what we need at just the right time. After heavy winter meals often lacking in fresh-from-the-Earth nutrients & our typically slow, stagnant lifestyles, Stellaria is a most welcome mover of the body’s fluids & soul’s energy, preparing us for the upsurging season of regrowth, creative energy, & inspiring movement.
Stellaria media is a mat-forming perennial ground cover. It blooms from early to mid spring with teeny white flowers at the ends of the plant’s stems. The flowers appear to have 10 petals, but are really 5-petals that are deeply divided. The leaves are opposite, toothless & stalkless (no petiole). The stems can be erect but typically sprawl along the ground, rooting at nodes.
Chickweed Stellaria media has a very similar lookalike, Cerastium fontanum mouse-eared or hairy chickweed, pictured below. Cerastium is also edible albeit more fuzzy textured, which can be off-putting to some eaten raw. Chickweed has hairless leaves & just a single row of fine hairs along the stems, whereas mouse-eared chickweed has very fuzzy leaves and stems. The flower petals of Cerastium also typically don’t seem to be as deeply divided as the petals of Stellaria.
Chickweed is tastiest eaten fresh in salads, sandwiches, & smoothies, and can also be cooked as any other vegetable in various dishes. It is also made into a lovely green-fresh tea, from the fresh or dried whole plant. Chickweed is rich in antioxidants, saponins, vitamins A, C & B (such as thiamine, riboflavin & niacin), as well as magnesium, iron, calcium, fiber & protein.
Medicinally, Stellaria media has been worked with for centuries as poultices, oils & salves to help with skin irritations including rashes & eczema. Chickweed aids in clearing bacterial infections when applied as a fresh poultice. It is also made into a tincture from the whole, fresh plant. It cools inflammations both internally & externally.
Stellaria contains saponins, which are known to be extremely effective in dissolving cysts, particularly ovarian cysts, when a dropperfull of the tincture is taken 2-3 times a day in conjunction with the infused oil applied topically. It is also amazing for eye health with its cooling & moistening properties which can soothe discomfort, irritation, dryness, styes, & conjunctivitis.
Susun Weed & Matthew Wood are fervent believers in Stellaria’s ability to help with weight loss by dissolving fat due its high saponin content & it’s effect on metabolism & endocrine function. They state it regulates water levels & drives off excess fats, resulting in stimulating both sides of the metabolism’s building & breaking down through the liver & endocrine system.
Chickweed is a diuretic inducing a loss of fluids from the body inhibiting the kidney’s ability to reabsorb sodium which enhances loss of sodium & water through urine. Thus it is also an excellent kidney tonic, as well as helpful for specific kidney related issues.
**While we hope we inspire an interest in all things wild or cultivated herbal medicine, this post is not intended to be the only source used to prepare you for eating wild food or self-treating. It’s always best to learn from another human, in person, and to follow up with multiple sources. Please research any new herb and consult your health care providers for possible drug/herb contraindications and precautions before ingesting. Be sure of your identification before ingesting any plant or mushroom. The information we share is for educational purposes and not intended to be used to treat or diagnose any diseases or conditions.
You may have noticed this dainty, low growing flower blooming in lawns, sidewalks, and garden beds come the first warm days of early spring. It is commonly called slender or creeping speedwell, the botanical name Veronica filiformis. Filiformis meaning threadlike, for its creeping quality, and named for St. Veronica, or vera iconica, the true likeness. And oh how it is indeed a true likeness of spring bejewel-ment for the slowly awakening land, lighting the growth path for the sleepy winter soul. The bright little flowers can’t help but bring a smile of hope for the fast approaching spring. Spotting teeny blossom after blossom continuously sparks the joy and anticipation of our inner child no matter how many we see, for all the more the merrier ❁
Veronica speedwell is a ground covering perennial plant that remains evergreen and can bloom from April to July. The bright blue-purple flowers are a welcome gift to our spring-anxious selves and early pollinators alike. They dapple the ground catching the eye with a twinkle of purple, blazing the trail for the new regrowth soon to come. Veronica filiformis is native to eastern Europe and western Asia, and has naturalized along most of the eastern United States ღ
Often wondering about it’s edibility and medicine, it was a pleasure to finally learn the flowers and leaves are in fact edible, and have a history in traditional European medicine. Veronica has astringent, bitter, diuretic, and expectorant qualities. An infusion of the plant can be helpful with coughs and catarrh, and topically for various skin complaints ❁
On a warm, sunny morning, I tasted a teeny flower fresh off the plant and savored a trace of sweetness with a touch of that classic early spring edibles bitterness. I then decided I was going to harvest JUST the Veronica flowers to make a small cup of tea to deepen my relation with a longtime favorite harbinger of spring. When making a connection with a new plant, I prefer to enjoy it simply with no other herbs, often only one part of the plant at a time, to truly get a feel for the new herbal ally. The tea quickly turned a beautiful blue-green / teal color, a cup of wee flower magic fit for a faery. After about 10 minutes I decided it was ready to drink. I removed the steeping cover and took a gentle inhale of the tea. Oh. I was immediately brought to the back to the mucky lotus pond I had harvested roots from on my friend’s land last summer. Not at all the fragrance I was expecting from such a colorful, dainty flower. The tea itself was lightly earthy, a bit bitter, and almost had a mucilaginous feel to it as I did not strain the flowers before drinking. Such a surprising experiential tea time in the garden ღ
I plan to try a tea of just the leaves next, and considering they have that classic bitter taste raw, I am expecting they might also make a bit of a bitter tea. I wonder how the color of the flowers would effect tea in combination with other herbs, especially violets which imbue a similar color to tea. Though the tea was not at all what I expected, I have learned more about this lovely little plant and deepened my connection. And don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a good earthy bitter and this was no exception ❁
I feel this would be a great activity to do with kids! They seem to particularly enjoy finding teeny things hidden in the grass and forgotten places of the lands, and turning them into a wondrously colored tea, even if a bit bitter on it’s own, holds so many lessons and joys. Maybe adding a touch of lemon juice would turn the tea pink, as happens with violet flower tea, and honey or sugar could also be a nice addition. A hint of mint could be nice too to compliment the flavor, and if all these adjustments don’t make for a tasty cup of faery tea for your kiddo, they can always offer it back to the land & wee folk in gratitude & reverence instead ღ
Exploring nature and the land around us is such a timeless, priceless pastime bringing us back to presence, mindfulness, and childlike awe. I invite you to stop and take a look at the small things, both hidden down in the grass or between sidewalks, and sprawling above inconspicuously coming to bud on the tips of tree branches. Each thing, no matter how teeny, has it’s own uniqueness, it’s own beauty, it’s own gift, medicine and offering to enrich our lives and enliven our souls. There is still so much beauty, magic and resilience in this world, if only we take a breath to look. Bring yourself back to joy and wonder, raw admiration and gratitude, with the rebirth of the fields, forests, and city sidewalks around us ❁
I came across this article the other day, People are ‘blind’ to plants, and that’s bad news for conservation, and the headline rang the bell of how I felt before I started learning to identify plants. I felt a wrongness around the fact that I hardly knew anything about the plants in my backyard, in the woods, on the dunes I cross to reach the beach. I knew oak, and onion grass, white pine, and dandelion.. and not much more.
As a child, I remember watching ants’ traffic on my landlord’s peonies, snapping swollen purple and red buds from other plants along the walkway, whose names I didn’t learn – or wonder too much about – and including onion grass as a main ingredient in my mud “stew” concoctions. Later, I’d harvest a few snap peas from my dad’s vegetable garden, and I learned what maple leaves look like, but it wasn’t until I had a child of my own and realized I couldn’t teach them about plants that I recognized the depth of the void where that knowledge should be.
Through online connections with other “crunchy mamas,” I learned that plantain (Plantago spp.) leaves could be used to soothe a bee sting, which knowledge – and then experience – ignited the curiosity vapors down in that void, propelling me to find books and local teachers to teach me common plants to forage locally. I helped get a local earth skills class together so my child could learn from folks who already knew, while I got my knowledge up to speed. I took a Permaculture Design Course, made a permaculture design for my parents’ property, attended plant swaps, and started planting everything I could get my hands on, to increase the biodiversity on the land and mine and my children’s ability to closely observe different plants.
I started studying herbalism, and eventually wound up here at The Green Farmacy Garden, where I now host workshops introducing others to a variety of plants and sharing my enthusiasm and appreciation for them. I compulsively play “I Spy” whenever I’m driving, checking the changing roadsides frequently for perched or flying hawks, and exercising my plant-recognition capacity as I scan wooded edges, vine-covered highway walls, and neighbors’ gardens as driving safety permits. My teen and I are currently making our way through Robin Wall Kimmerer’s Braiding Sweetgrass, and I keep feeling grateful and welcomed when it seems aspects of my life and experiences are aligned with some of the practices she experiences as part of “becoming indigenous to place.”
My coworkers are on their own arcs of the plant path, both with ever-developing herbal, foraging, discovering, researching, and stewarding repertoires. And from each of our vantage points, studying introductory botany with our GFG mentor and former director Helen Lowe-Metzman in a dedicated learning space remains an empowering prospect in which we’re excited to immerse.
This opportunity is appropriate for students from any angle of plant interest, whether you’re a plant beginner, permaculture student, budding or practicing herbalist, would-be forager, native plant enthusiast, gardener, or nature-lover. Whatever your reason for wanting to be able to recognize plant inhabitants of your ecosystem, you’re invited to join us for Beginner Botany Basics Saturdays in April, beginning in just a few days. “Plant-Blindness” is an experience of separation that we can outgrow.
Beginner Botany Basics
Every Saturday of April 2021, 10:30am-12:30pm
Learn how to use a field guide to identify plants in the wild.
This 4-session course will equip you to use a field guide to determine a plant’s family, genus, and usually species identification.
The first session will be devoted to learning botanical terms for plant parts, which you must learn in order to use the Newcomb’s Field Guide. During the remaining sessions, you’ll develop your proficiency applying these terms and using the guide to identify plants from a variety of families, including:
Amaryllidaceae (Amaryllis family)
Asteraceae (Aster family)
Berberidaceae (Barberry family)
Brassicaceae (Brassica family)
Lamiaceae (Mint family)
Papaveraceae (Poppy family)
Ranunculaceae (Buttercup family)
Rosaceae (Rose family)
Rutaceae (Citrus/ Rue family)
You’ll learn some characteristics of these families to help you not only identify, but also learn uses for the plants you encounter.
For 2 years I’ve observed the Giant Butterbur (Petasites japonicus) flourishing in the wooded edges surrounding the garden, having migrated there (I assume) by seed from the garden specimens. I soon learned that the buds and leaf stalks are consumed in Japan, but references to pre-processing steps, combined with my lack of familiarity with Japanese cuisine, beyond sushi and miso soup, intimidated me from attempting to eat it.
This year I finally took the time to research how to prepare the buds, which are a “mountain food” known as Fukinoto in Japan. Over the years, the Giant Butterbur has jumped out of its spots in the garden beds to colonize wooded edges of the property. The buds have been emerging since January, and within the past week new leaves have begun to sprout too.
I had a hard time restraining myself when I finally got out to harvest, having developed momentum by researching and printing recipes, discovering the name of the bitterness-removing process (aku-nuki), and having reason to believe it may not even be necessary for the fukinoto. Harvesting from just one of the property’s several stands of the Giant Sweet Coltsfoot (another English common name for the plant), I managed to fill my basket in about half an hour, skipping the majority of buds, which were slightly more mature (though, in the shade of the woods where I harvested, most were not as mature as the fully open blooms I selected from the sunny garden bed to accent my photo) than those I took.
I let the photo in the recipe guide my harvesting choices, choosing buds that seemed less mature than those in the recipe’s image. I’d found a couple of versions of Fukinoto Miso and opted to try this one.
The resulting gloop has an intense combination of powerful flavors: the acrid bitterness of the Fukinoto is not muted or tamed, so much as partnered, by the pungent miso and sesame flavors, and accented by the alcohol/ vinegar’s tartness and the sugar’s sweetness. I mixed it in to a bit of rice, as suggested, and ate a small appetizer-sized portion, knowing that the total amount of the single new-to-me ingredient reached maybe a tablespoon of volume.
The whole flavor impact is too much for me or my family to consume it in vegetable-portion quantities, but because we’re working to contain the spread of a number of non-native species proliferating in the woods around the garden and the Giant Butterbur is so incredibly prolific and seems likely to continue spreading, I harvested far more than these recipes call for. I figure, even if I don’t wind up using them all, there will be fewer seeds spreading the plant deeper into our woods the more blooms I prevent.
I might’ve slightly over-indulged, but I found the rear roof of my mouth tingled uncomfortably, or at least distractingly, with the metallic acridity for quite a while after finishing my first serving. After the second, smaller taste, my mouth isn’t bothering me, but my stomach’s complaining a bit (it complains no matter what I eat, though, so not really a comment on the fukinoto).
I’m considering, if I manage to undertake another experiment, pre-boiling in salted water to remove some bitterness, and then making tempura – which I’ve never done, and haven’t had stellar success with other frying attempts. It seems like it’ll be a good fit.. maybe I will try some pre-boiled, and some battered with egg, as this cook indicates the egg can help cut the bitterness too.
If you’re curious about this plant and would like to try it, there will be plenty more opportunity later in the season, when it’s in leaf and the petioles (Fuki) can be harvested. Our upcoming Investigating Invasives series will include Giant Butterbur and many other useful plants that sometimes spread beyond their welcome in local ecosystems.
The Green Farmacy Garden is seeking 1 or 2 part-time interns for the 2021 season to help harvest, process, and transform plants into herbal medicine for the community! The chosen applicant(s) will exchange 5 hours of work per week for mentorship and/or college internship credits.
Find more information, and the application link, at our Work With Us! page. Applications accepted until March 19, 2021.
The Hellebores have been blooming since late January, & the snowdrops not far behind bursting through the snow the first week of February.
Last week the crocuses bejeweled the grounds, more than we’ve ever been blessed with before, heralding the true coming of spring. In the woods we were delighted to find the dazzling winter aconites brightening up the brown landscape down by the creek.
The birdsong is growing evermore as the days are lengthening. Last week the first bluebird families were spotted in the garden from the small gazebo under the Ginkgo tree. The pond has thawed for likely the last time, & we are anxiously awaiting the return of the pond choir.
The sunlight is lengthening as the pace of the garden is quickening. Seeds are being sown, plots cleaned & mulched, and more new sprouts are welcomed back each day.
We look forward to hosting you for (socially distanced & limited capacity) tours, workshops & volunteer days, so stay tuned in the coming weeks for event listings!
May the reawakening of the Earth inspire you to explore the beauty & magic blooming all around us.
9 HAWKS graced my commute back to the garden this morning!! The first 4 in pairs: two playing just above the street at about overpass height, and the other two perched in neighboring trees even closer to the ground. Most of the rest were perched high in trees, or flying higher. Our resident hawk was screeching from the bamboo grove here at the garden when we visited C terrace to support the juniper, who’d dived downhill with one of the winter’s heavy snow or ice loads. Unfortunately I don’t know our Maryland species well enough to identify today’s, but every one of them makes my heart leap nonetheless. What a spectacular season opener it’s been!
Snowdrops, hellebores, and Giant Butterbur are blooming or budding all over – we’ll get you some pictures soon!
Today, I wanted to be sure to share our 2020 Annual Report with everyone. This season, you can expect more new offerings for children, an introduction to Botany by plant family series, in-depth with Invasives, and dining with (/on?!) cicadas, as our Herbal Giving, public tours, and volunteer days continue with everyone’s safety in mind. We’re opening our gates to high schoolers needing community service hours (send em our way if you’ve got em!), and you’ll also be hearing more about our initiative to diversify the traditions and lineage-keepers represented in our collection and programming.
Please reach out if you have any questions about upcoming programming, pandemic or other policies, or booking a private tour. We’re currently planning the children’s events, so if you have feedback or requests for what you’d like to see, let us know ASAP!
With warm screeching excitement, we look forward to welcoming you in the garden soon!