As my pictures from our walk in the woods turned out to be so disappointing, I decided to search Flickr for a picture of the catkins. And boy did I find a cracker! This picture perfectly captures everything I wanted to say about my discovery that day. Andrew Kearton has very kindly given his permission for me to post this picture. You should seriously head over to Flickr and have a look through his photostream – there are some truly breathtaking shots, particularly of plants. Thank you Andy, for your generosity and your talent…
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Tags: Andy Kearton, catkins, Corylus avellana, Hazel, photography
Inspired by some chat on Facebook and a great video and article from the guys at Natural Bushcraft, we set off last weekend to find a Birch to tap. I’ve read loads over the years about the wonders of Birch sap and, seeing as the video made it look so easy, I decided now was the time to give it a go. It was a beautiful, brisk Spring day and a walk in the woods was just the tonic we both needed so we took it easy. It wasn’t a full blown mission to gather bottles-full but a first foray to at least get a taste and see what we were dealing with. After a slightly false start where the birch wood from memory actually turned out to be a beech wood (?!) we finally found a couple of likely looking specimens; strong and sturdy. We got nothing from the first one except a tantalisingly lush scent from the knife. Maybe the sap wasn’t rising here yet we thought; Central Scotland is a fair way North of Kent where the first sap had been recently reported. However, we tried its neighbour; this time making a cut much lower down. It started to flow. Excitement! Much wooping and joy. Then we tasted it. Oh! ‘Well its ehm… not nasty or anything…’. It kind of tasted of nothing much. Insipid really. Maybe a slightly bitter dryness to it but deeply disappointing. Certainly not worth all the effort strapping a bottle to a tree for 5 hours and collecting a gallon. Not to mention stressing the tree out! I suppose its something I know now and will bear in mind if I find myself in some sort of post apocalyptic survival situation.
On an infinitely more positive note, we found loads of Hazels! Wandering through the woods down by the river (not telling which one!) I spotted a yellow catkin and stopped in my tracks ‘hazel! hazel! hazel!’. My slightly calmer companion pointed out that loads of things have yellow catkins. But my enthusiasm couldn’t be dampened. ‘No no, but hazel gets them before the leaves… and look at it – its all bushy and, and, and, well, hazel looking!’. So we took lots of pics (all of which turned out to be out of focus) and having admired the little shocking pink tips of the emerging leaves, we headed home with me itching to get to my books and look it all up. Well, if you know Hazels at all, you’ll know what’s coming next. YAY!!! They are Hazel and the shocking pink tips are in fact female catkins. I cannot tell you how excited I am! Once we had spotted one we saw them everywhere and I am so looking forward to getting back there later in the year to gather my first wild hazelnuts. Recipes anyone?
Tags: Betula spp., Birch, Birch sap, catkin, Corylus avellana, Hazel, hazelnuts, Natural Bushcraft, Spring, Trees
I’m sure I’m not alone in finding the sight of the first Snowdrop uplifting – the first sign that we’ve just about made it to Spring. There is a patch I can see from my back window and I look for it every morning from just a bout Christmas onwards. They were late this year – or have they been early the past few years? I saw them in the last week of January this year and I think that’s about right as they are historically associated with Candlemas which falls at the start of February. This is a church festival which marks the purification of the Virgin Mary and presentation of the baby Jesus at the temple 40 days after his birth. It is perhaps because of this association that Snowdrops have a reputation as a symbol of purity and innocence. In the Victorian Language of Flowers, however, they symbolise hope and, sometimes, consolation.
This quote really resonates with me because it is Hope that lifts my heart when I see the first flower – Hope that the worst of Winter is over and Spring is just around the corner.
The Language of Flowers: The Floral Offering by Henrietta Dumont (1863)
Consolation is also apt, however, because there is indeed more Winter still to come. As this quote so poetically puts it:

Were these snowdrops planted to symbolise the Purity and Innocence of poor James who died in 1849 aged only 6 years? Or to offer consolation to his Father who also lost a Daughter two years later aged 20?
In Richard Mabey’s Flora Britannica, many of the anecdotes centre around Churchyards and Abbeys. It seems that, as an introduced species, they may have originally been planted in the ancient Churchyards of Britain. In fact, the snowdrops I eagerly await sight of from my back window are in an ancient churchyard. Does that bring us back to the church symbolism of purity? Well, possibly, but it is notable that many of these institutions had Physic Gardens attached to them so it does bring us round to the medicinal applications.
I’m not aware any widespread use of Snowdrops in modern Herbal Medicine but Julian Barker reports that the crushed bulbs have been used in case of frostbite. Appropriate given the time of year they appear! There is also ethnobotanical evidence that, in Bulgaria, they have been used in the treatment of poliomyelitis. It was partly this evidence which led to the isolation of the alkaloid galantamine, a drug that is now used in the treatment of the dementia of Alzheimer’s disease. Which brings us back to Hope…
Tags: Alzheimer's Disease, Candlemas, churchyards, dementia, February, flowers, frostbite, Galanthus nivalis, poliomyelitis, Snowdrop, Spring
The UK Herbarium Webring is having a blog party!
Debs Cook is hosting at the Herbaholic’s Herbarium
The topic for this month is “My Favourite Bitter” and this is my contribution.
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As a bitter, yarrow ought to be cooling but, hang on, doesn’t it warm the periphery? It’s a styptic so it ought to stop nosebleeds but, no, this book says ‘stick it up your nose and it will bleed’.

It’s an emmenagogue but it’s often recommended to stem a heavy flow. What’s going on here? This incredible plant of contradictions is a perfect case study in the therapeutic complexities of herbal medicines. Each observed effect, when examined more closely, is actually a collection of actions which all contribute to the outcome. As this is a blog party about bitters I’ll focus on how this action contributes to its effectiveness in each area.
So, lets start with the primary area that bitters exert their action; the digestive system. As a mild bitter, Yarrow has a reputation as a digestive stimulant. Simon Mills, in his wee brown book (aka The Essential Book of Herbal Medicine)
, has a great chapter on the effects of bitters (p321-327). The gist of this is that bitters stimulate all digestive secretions therefore they not only improve digestive function, they also enhance the protective mechanisms. This, along with the direct astringency of Yarrow, makes it particularly healing to the digestive tract. The anti-spasmodic properties also help the tension that often accompanies digestive upset. So although it is a digestive stimulant it is also relaxing and these two properties combine to provide a balanced solution to digestive dysfunction.

Bitters are traditionally considered cooling and this can be attributed to their digestive effects because stimulating the circulation here helps to move heat from the core to the periphery. Therefore, although Yarrow is heating to the periphery, this is almost a side-effect of the cooling action. The stimulating effect may also extend to mood. As James Green
says: “It is difficult to remain in a depressed state with all that internal secreting and squirting going on…” The same goes for all the organs and tissues surrounding the digestive system; which brings us on to the reproductive system.
Stimulating the digestive system in turn stimulates uterine contraction which is one of the reasons that Yarrow is contra-indicated in pregnancy. This, however, makes it an effective emmenogogue. In fact, this is one of the first things I learned about Yarrow. I was taught that it stimulates pelvic circulation and this can be useful to stimulate menstrual flow. It can also relieve menstrual cramps caused by poor circulation. Again the anti-spasmodic attribute provides balance by ensuring overstimulation doesn’t worsen the cramps. But what about its use in heavy periods? This takes us back to the bitter effect on the digestive system. Heavy menstrual bleeding can be associated with oestrogen excess. As hormones are metabolised by the liver, poor liver function can result in poor hormone balance. This is also something I was taught in clinical practice. When a hormonal imbalance is apparent, go to the liver herbs first.
A more efficient liver is also a contributory factor in its effects on the circulation. The liver manufactures the blood components involved in coagulation. It also metabolises fats and manages the balance of cholesterol in the body. A well functioning liver will therefore help to maintain a healthy circulation. As discussed earlier, the bitter action has the effect of moving heat, i.e. blood, out to the periphery. However, the peripheral blood vessels need to be amenable to this. Mills
suggests that flavonoid and volatile oil components in Yarrow encourage vasodilation, giving that blood somewhere to go.

This is beneficial in a direct way as it takes nutrients to and removes waste from the periphery. It also contributes to Yarrow’s reputation for lowering blood pressure.
There are many more facets to this wonderful plant which all contribute to its effects. Its not one of the major bitters but its one of my favourite herbs so I’ve really enjoyed exploring that aspect of it here.
Oh – and the nosebleed thing? No idea! I’ve never managed to get it to make my nose bleed yet…
So I did finally get out when there was a break in the showers last week and the hedgerows were heavy with ripe and ready hips and haws. The rain has clearly made for a good berry season. I was keen to see how the Mullein was coming along so I made my way straight along the path to the clearing. I was pretty sure the woolly leaves would still be too wet but hoped that maybe I could gather a few flowers. But it wasn’t woolly leaves that greeted me. It was woolly backs. Sheep! Four of them munching their way through the grass banks and not a Mullein in sight. Munched! Every last plant. To say I’m gutted… doesn’t even come close. I had been soooo looking forward to seeing them come up from the wee rosettes they had started off as last year. Even if the farmer fixes the fence, I can’t see how they can come up again. The only hope is that there are still one or two dead stalks from last year with, hopefully, some seed in them still.
Tags: Crataegus spp, Hawthorn, Mullein, Rosa canina, Rosehips, Verbascum thapsus












