Foraging Wild Plants in a Human Dominated Landscape

Ramps in early spring. UWExtension In April, my friend Laura brought me some ramps—not just parts, but the entire plant, broad, smooth leaves, small, shallot-size bulbs, roots and all. I know she wouldn’t go out in the local forest preserves and dig them up, foraging or poaching, depending upon your perspective. So where did she get them? Her CSA has begun growing them. Because they were intact, neither of us ate them, but planted them in our respective gardens, watered them in well, and are hoping for the best. I did remember to mark where I’d put them, luckily, because the leaves soon faded away and disappeared, as happens with many species of spring ephemerals. I’ve never eaten ramps that I know of, though I hear they’re delicious. I know where they grow, at several undisclosed locations, but they are on forest preserve land, and a strict no-poaching policy is in place. As such I would not go harvesting against the rules, partly because, as a volunteer steward, I have engaged to fol...

Samhain, Halloween, Day of the Dead, All Saints/Souls Days

What a lot of names there are for this time between the autumn equinox and winter solstice. It is the time in the northern hemisphere when we gather in the harvest, say goodby to growth and prepare for winter's rest, the time when the barriers between the worlds of the living and dead become momentarily thinner, and we remember friends and relatives no longer with us. It is a time of bittersweet celebration, as the days grow shorter and colder before the great turn back towards the light.

Agriculturally and for gardeners, the old year closes when the harvest is gathered in, and for the old Celts and neopagans, the new year begins. My instincts have always gone with the idea that spring is the time of new beginnings, as I wrote in Sandhill Cranes and Spring Resolutions. Each of these holidays are like buoys in time's flood, not really a beginning or end, but a marker of beginnings and endings that have no real fixed points, that blend, that submerge and emerge ceaselessly as the tides. So we pick days for remembrance, to mark and celebrate the turn of the seasons, the progress of our lives.

Comments

Diana Studer said…
For us the year turns when the rain comes, and the garden has survived the summer.
megan said…
Love samhein, and loved your post!

Thanks,
Megan
Hi EE, So you must be glad when that happens. Do you have a rainy season, with constant rains?


Thanks, Megan
margaretart said…
Love your "buoys in time's river" image. What a charming little essay on the season.