Lughnasadh

Lughnasadh

by | Aug 4, 2026 | Seasons, Uncategorized

Celebrating Lughnasadh

Table of Contents

The time of the grain harvest

The Sun has now moved well past its zenith, yet its radiance and heat still beat relentlessly upon fields and forests, rivers shrink and the scent of dry grasses hangs in the air.

Lughnasadh, celebrated at the beginning of August. It marks the first harvest festival of the Celtic year - it’s time to gather the fruits after months of patient labour, to celebrate abundance and to remember that every harvest is both a blessing and a responsibility.

The grain has turned heavy, golden and ripe, orchards begin to bend beneath the weight of apples and pears, vineyards promise sweet grapes, and vegetable gardens overflow with beans, tomatoes, courgettes and herbs. Nature has entered a season of generosity.

For gardeners, farmers and foragers, this is one of the busiest times of the year. The work of spring is now transformed. The fruits of our labour not only provide for the season of plenty now, but need to be preserved for the coming winter. Canning, drying, fermenting and storing become as important as harvesting itself. The abundance surrounding us reminds us that every loaf of bread, every basket of fruit and every jar of herbs represents months—even years—of care, patience and the blessing of nature. One heavy thunderstorm and hail, or even just a bit too much or too little sun and rain all can ruin the harvest. Success is  never been guaranteed.

The months between spring and late summer are filled with promise and uncertainty. Today, the effects of climate change have made these risks increasingly common. Lughnasadh reminds us that our prosperity ultimately depends upon nature - healthy ecosystems, fertile soils and a stable climate.

Perhaps no festival speaks more clearly of our dependence upon the living Earth.

From Lughnasadh to Lammas

The festival takes its name from the Celtic god Lugh, one of the great deities of Irish mythology. Lugh was renowned as a master of many arts—a warrior, craftsman, poet, musician and king—whose gifts brought prosperity to the land. According to tradition, he established the festival in honour of his foster mother Tailtiu, who died after clearing the forests to create fertile farmland for her people.

The festival therefore honours not only the harvest itself, but also the labour, sacrifice and stewardship that make abundance possible.

When Christianity spread across Britain and Ireland, many older seasonal customs were woven into the Christian calendar. Lughnasadh gradually became known as Lammas, derived from the Old English hlāfmæsse, meaning "Loaf Mass." The first loaf baked from the newly harvested grain was blessed in church as a symbol of gratitude for God's provision.

Bread and wine became central symbols of the Eucharist. Wheat—the staff of life—represent the body of Christ, while wine symbolises his blood. Although the religious traditions differ, both festivals share the same underlying message: gratitude for the harvest and recognition that life depends upon the gifts of a divine source and not just our own labour.

The Eternal Cycle of Seed and Harvest

Harvest is never an ending.

It is one moment within an endless cycle of growth, death and renewal. Some of the grain becomes flour. Some nourishes livestock. Some feeds wildlife. And some is carefully set aside as seed for the following year.

What we harvest today becomes tomorrow's potential.

The old saying, "We reap what we sow," carries more wisdom than it first appears. Our actions shape the future, both personally and collectively. The choices we make today—how we cultivate the land, how we treat our communities and how we care for the natural world—become the seeds from which future harvests will grow.

Lughnasadh invites us to celebrate abundance while remembering our responsibility towards those who will inherit the Earth once we have gone.

Plants of Lughnasadh

Several plants are particularly associated with the harvest season:.

wheat

Wheat (Triticum aestivum L.)

No plant symbolises Lughnasadh more completely than wheat. For thousands of years it has sustained human civilisation and shaped cultures across Europe and beyond. The golden fields of ripening grain have become an enduring symbol of prosperity, nourishment and the rewards of patient labour.

grapes - vitis vinifera

Grapes (Vitis vinifera L.)

Heavy clusters of ripening grapes have long symbolised abundance, celebration and transformation. Their sweet juice becomes wine, one of humanity's oldest and most powerful ritual drinks. In the ancient Mediterranean world, grapes belonged to Dionysos, the god of wine, ecstasy, theatre and divine madness.

Sunflower

Sunflower (Helianthus annuus L.)

Few flowers embody the joy of high summer as completely as the sunflower. Standing tall beneath the August sun, it reflects vitality, warmth and generosity. Its seeds provide food for people, birds and countless other animals, making it a fitting symbol of shared abundance.

Yarrow - Achillea millefolium

Yarrow (Achillea millefolium L.)

Yarrow often flowers throughout the summer and has long been valued as one of Europe's great medicinal herbs. Traditionally associated with healing, protection and courage, it reminds us that harvest is not only about gathering food, but also about collecting the medicines that will sustain us through winter. It was also one of the many herbs once used for flavouring ale.

Meadowseet - Filipendula ulmaria

Meadowsweet (Filipendula ulmaria (L.) Maxim.)

Revered since ancient times, Meadowsweet was one of the most cherished herbs of Europe, valued both for its medicinal properties and its beauty.  In Celtic tradition, meadowsweet is often counted among the sacred herbs, associated with joy, hospitality and celebration and the flowers were used to sweeten the mead.

The Spiritual Meaning of Lughnasadh

Lughnasadh is a festival of gratitude.

Take a moment to look back over the year so far. What seeds did you plant—in your garden, your work, your relationships or your own personal growth? Which projects have begun to bear fruit? Which still require patience? What are you harvesting right now, and what represents the seed potential for the next growing season?

Not every seed germinates. Not every effort succeeds. Yet every season teaches us something valuable.

The harvest reminds us that success is never entirely our own achievement. However hard we work, much remains beyond our control. Health, favourable weather, supportive communities and unexpected opportunities all play their part.

Gratitude therefore sits at the heart of Lughnasadh—not passive gratitude, but an active appreciation that inspires generosity, stewardship and care for the world that nourishes us.

A Personal Reflection

This year, riding the tide of time feels rather like navigating uncertain ocean currents. The sun has already passed its highest point in the sky. Almost imperceptibly, the days are shortening, and the Wheel of the Year continues its steady turning towards autumn.

I often think of the Greek myth of Phaethon, the son of Helios, the sun god. Eager to prove himself, he persuaded his father to let him drive the solar chariot across the heavens for a single day. But the horses proved too powerful. The chariot veered wildly across the sky, scorching the Earth beneath until at the very last minute the other gods intervened to prevent total catastrophe.

Today, the story feels less like an ancient myth and more like a timeless warning. Humanity has inherited extraordinary power, yet wisdom has not always kept pace with our abilities. The consequences of our actions are becoming increasingly tangible and visible in the landscapes around us.

And yet Lughnasadh is not a festival of despair.

Standing in a field of ripe grain, we witness one of nature's oldest paradoxes. At the very moment when the grain is at its fullest, the reaper arrives to cut it down. Death becomes the condition for nourishment. The harvested seed feeds us through winter, and another portion is returned to the soil, where new life quietly waits for spring.

The same cycle embraces us all. We are sustained by the lives that came before us, and in time our own lives will nourish those who follow. Remembering this can inspire both humility and hope.

As we gather the gifts of this first harvest, may we do so with grateful hearts, mindful hands and a renewed commitment to care for the living world that continues, despite everything, to sustain us.

For every seed,

For every harvest,

For every gift the Earth bestows—

May gratitude guide our hands,

Wisdom shape our choices,

And love sustain the living world.

What Gardening Jobs are there to do in August?

What Gardening Jobs are there to do in August?

by | Aug 1, 2026 | Gardening

August is a fabulous time for all gardeners! The explosion of colour, scent and texture is a fiesta for the senses. But above all, allotment gardeners love this time of the year. Harvest is finally here. Finally, all the hard work from the spring is paying off.

 

Harvesting

Just what you will harvest now depends on what you sowed earlier. I tried to grow carrots this year (again). Alas, to no avail. I don't know what it is about me and carrots, but I have never managed to grow them - except a stray one that is volunteering among the Basil, in one of my balcony planters. If you had better luck, you are probably feasting on them right now.

Fortunately, my other crops are doing fine. There are runner beans and courgettes to pick, almost daily. Peas are over, but the tomatoes are now kicking in.

Perhaps you are picking cucumbers and early potatoes, as well as onions and shallots. The beetroots are swelling here, but yours might be ready to pick. Spinach is now past its best, but Swiss chard picks up the slack. I love the colourful varieties best, although they all make excellent and versatile summer greens.

 

Sowing winter vegetables

You might find that picking and processing all those fantastic summer veggies is enough of a job, and nothing could be further from your mind than winter's approach. But, beware, it’s August, and before long, summer will be over. So, now is the time to start thinking about late crops and veggies you would like to overwinter.

In milder climates, it is well possible to extend the season to the end of October. The cabbages are particularly hardy. If you started some earlier, you can now plant them out into their permanent positions. You can even still sow some: kohlrabi or turnip and some spring cabbages (check your seed package). Cabbages are particularly popular with bugs and caterpillars, so you might want to protect young seedlings with a fine-meshed cloth. Plant the seedlings out once they have developed 5-6 true leaves. Remember that they will grow big, so give them plenty of space. They also need a sunny spot and do best in a bed that had a different crop in it the previous year (no brassicas!)

I have not had much luck with cabbages. The caterpillars and whiteflies always get the better of them. I prefer growing Asian salad greens, which are easy, prolific and not as vulnerable to bugs. They are hardy, too. Alternatively, spinach and corn salad will also provide welcome winter greens when little else is available.

 

Salad ingredients

Some fast-maturing crops can also now be sown again, such as Rocket, Mustard greens, and Radishes. Spring onions can also be sown in late August, but won't be ready to pick until the following spring.

 

Watering

Make sure you water regularly and deeply. A little sprinkle does not reach the deeper roots. Instead, it encourages superficial root growth close to the surface. Mulch well to keep the moisture in the soil. Feed with compost or diluted liquid manure.

 

Wildlife

Don’t deadhead all the flowers just yet. The birds are looking for food! They also appreciate a source of clean water for a drink or a bath. The hedgehogs will make use of it, too. Bushes with berries, such as Cotoneaster or Hawthorn, are popular bird food. Starlings and blackbirds just love them!

For ideas as to how to preserve your harvest, check out:  Preserving the harvest 1

or if you prefer a more spirited way to make the most of excess fruits and such:  Preserving the harvest 2

 

Check out SeedsNow for your organic gardening supplies!

 

Image by congerdesign from Pixabay

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Plant Profile: St. John’s Wort

Plant Profile: St. John’s Wort

by | Jul 10, 2026 | Plant Profiles

Hypericum perforatum (Clusiaceae)

St John's Wort is the kind of herb that gladdens the heart just by looking at it. Many magical and medicinal properties have been ascribed to it and even its name alludes to certain divine connotations: it was named in honour of St. John, the Baptist, whose saints' day is on June 23rd. He presides over the Christianised version of the Midsummer Feast, the most important feast day of the ancient pastoral calendar. Yet, it is often considered a noxious weed, particularly in agricultural circles. Let's take a closer look.

Description:

St. John's Wort is a perennial herbaceous plant that can reach a height of up to 2ft. The stem bears two raised lines along their length and branches in the upper parts. Numerous translucent dots cover the ovate to linear leaves. These are oil glands that store essential oil. The margins are entire and show tiny black dots around the edges. These oil glands produce the red oil. The five-petaled, yellow flowers look like little stars or suns. Clusters of flowers bloom from June to September. The tiny seeds are borne in capsules. St John's Wort tastes balsamic, aromatic and slightly bitter. Squish the flower-buds between your fingers to verify its identity. St. John's Wort, when pressed, stains red. 

Habitat:

St. John's Wort grows throughout Central Europe and the British Isles. Its habitats are verges, meadows, hedgerows, wood clearings, and waste places. It has become naturalised in many parts of the US, where it is regarded as a noxious weed.

HISTORY

The Doctrine of signatures assigns this herb to the Sun, not only because its flowers look so sunny, but also because its flowering-  and gathering season coincides with the zenith of the Sun at Midsummer. At this time, its potency is at its peak. The reddish oil has been associated with blood, the sacred juice of life. Saint John's Wort has long been revered as a magical herb that was said to ward off all kinds of witches and devils, and was even often offered as a Midsummer sacrifice to ensure the continuity of life.

Some sprigs were cast on the solstice bonfires, others were blessed and hung above the doorways and into the rafters of stables and barns. This custom was believed to offer protection against the hazards of the burning power of the sun: fires, lightning, and droughts, and to ward off witches and demons.

St John's Wort enjoyed its greatest glory during the Middle Ages, when it was known as 'Fuga Daemonium' and it was deemed a protective force against all evil.

All efforts of the Church to demonise the herb had failed and so it was absorbed into Christian mythology and given to St. John, the Baptist, who's Saints Day falls on June 24th, right at the height of the herb's flowering time. The red oil was said to be a reminder of the Saint's martyrdom.

Many of the old Pagan traditions were absorbed into the new faith but reinterpreted to fit its own mythology: It was probably the only herb to have been used in the Witch trials to identify witches, using talismanic magic:

The formula:

SATOR

AREPO

TENET

OPERA

ROTAS

was written on a piece of paper and placed on a piece of leather along with some St. John's Wort that had been gathered during the first quarter of the moon. This talisman was supposed to reveal the true identity of a witch, since no witch could disguise her identity in the presence of such a forthright and radiant herb. It had the power to banish all the evil powers. (Just how it did so is not clear).

Today, St. John's Wort's magical associations have largely been forgotten. But it continues to play an important role in medical herbalism, especially as a natural anti-depressant. But not all consider it benevolent. In the US, it is considered a noxious weed that is dangerous to cattle. The allegations are that its photosensitising properties are hazardous to humans and cattle alike.  

St. Johns Wort is indeed photosensitising. It is most likely to harm grazing animals that may consume large amounts of it while being exposed to intense heat without access to sheltering shade. This problem is severe in the overgrazed southwestern parts of the US. Internal use of St. John's Wort herb rarely poses this threat to humans, (although it is conceivable). It is therefore recommended to avoid St. John's Wort if one spends a lot of time in the sun or in the solarium.

Caution is also advised when using it in the treatment of depression. St. John's Wort affects the serum-levels of the Neurotransmitter Serotonin, which may produce negative effects when used with other anti-depressant drugs that also affect the metabolism of neurotransmitters. Finally, St John's Wort is a powerful liver cleanser. It cleanses the liver eliminates all kinds of toxins - including pharmaceutical drugs and birth control pills, rendering them useless. Thus, it is always advised to consult with a qualified practitioner who can advise you on any drug interactions or other ill-effects, before attempting to use St. John's Wort medicinally.

Medicinal Uses

PARTS USED: Aerial parts, collect when in flower, for the oil usually only the flowering tops are used

CONSTITUENTS: Essential oil - caryophyllene, methyl-2-octane, n-nonane, n-octanal, n-decanal, a-and b pinene, traces of limonene and myrcene, hypericin (photosensitizing), hyperforin, Glycosides (rutin), tannin, resin, pectin

ACTIONS: Antidepressant, sedative, nervine, anti-inflammatory, anti-bacterial, astringent, vulnerary, diuretic

MEDICINAL USES:

Internal Use:

St. John's Wort is a tonic for the whole body:  a gentle cleansing remedy that improves overall function and tones the vital organ systems. It improves and regulates the metabolism and tones the stomach, liver, and kidneys, thus helping the body to clear out toxins. Internally, a small amount of the oil or, better still, the expressed juice, taken on an empty stomach, has been used for treating stomach ulcers and gastritis. Freshly pressed St. John's Wort juice also has a history of use as an astringent to stop internal bleeding, spitting of blood, and (bloody) diarrhoea.

St John's Wort is also an excellent nervine. Its calming and sedative properties soothe the nerves, headaches and migraines and alleviate anxiety, melancholy, and irritability, especially during menopause, or PMT. Old herbals also recommend it for 'shaking and twitching' (Parkinson? Epilepsy?). It is considered a specific for curing bed-wetting in children, especially when caused by anxiety. For this purpose, 1 tablespoon of the infusion, given at bedtime, is said to suffice.  As a diuretic, St. John's Wort assists the kidneys to flush waste materials and toxins from the body. The tea is effective for indigestion, stomach catarrh, and as a vermifuge. For therapeutic purposes, it is best to use the fresh herb or tincture, as the dried herb has lost much of its potency.

External Use:

In the past, the external use of St. John's Wort was much more common. It was cherished as an excellent wound healer that could cleanse the wound and 'knit the skin together'. It was applied to wounds and cuts, bruises, varicose veins, and burns. For this purpose, the expressed juice, or a compress made from the fresh, bruised herb was used. Modern herbalists prefer a diluted tincture. Tabernaemontana reports that the powdered dried herb can be strewn directly into 'foul' wounds to clean and heal them. In his days, midwives also used the herb as a fumigant to help women who encountered severe problems with their pregnancies or during childbirth.

St. John's Wort Oil

Traditionally, the flowers were steeped in Poppy seed oil to produce a bright red oil. However, since Poppy Seed oil has become very hard to find, Olive oil can be substituted. After gathering the fresh tops, spread them out on a baking sheet and let them wilt for a few days. This will evaporate most of their water content. Fill a jar with the wilted flowering tops and cover with oil. Macerate for 4 weeks in full sun. Strain the oil, repeat the process using the same oil but adding fresh flowers. This oil is used for treating sunburn, other mild burns, neuralgia, sciatica, and rheumatic pain, as well as sprains and strains, cuts, wounds, as well as muscle aches and nerve pains. It is also said to reduce scarring. Tabernaemontana mentions an elaborate recipe for a compound oil, which, among other things, includes various gums and resins, such as frankincense, myrrh, mastic and other herbs, including Plantain leaves, Yarrow and Tormentil, which he claims, will be a superior oil, effective for treating just about any kind wound.

CAUTION:

Since St. John's Wort contains the photosensitising agent hypericin, avoid direct sunlight after either internal and external use of St. John's Wort. If you are taking pharmaceutical drugs, especially anti-depressants, consult with a knowledgeable doctor regarding the possibility of negative drug interactions. The efficacy of birth control pills can not be taken for granted if St. John's Wort is used orally at the same time.

Gardening Jobs in July

Gardening Jobs in July

by | Jul 10, 2026 | Gardening, Blog, Earth Care, Green Living

What gardening jobs are there to do in July?

This is the time of the year that every gardener is waiting for! The garden is in its prime. Everything is growing, flowering and fruiting. It is a sheer joy to be out there, enjoying nature’s bounty.

July is a time of plenty. Early crops are beginning to ripen, and you can enjoy the fruits of your labour. But it is also a time to think ahead to the dark season and the crops you’d like to harvest then - they need to be sown and started now. There are plenty of gardening jobs to be done in July!

 

HARVEST:

Continue to harvest lettuce, radishes, beets, peas and courgettes. Long-season or perpetual raspberries and strawberries are still fruiting and can still be harvested.

Onions and garlic begin to topple over, a sure sign they are getting ready, but wait until the onion tops turn yellow before lifting them. Then, you can leave them on the ground or spread them in a well-aerated box or basket to dry them thoroughly.

 

Early runner beans and potatoes are also getting ready.

 

Harvesting herbs

Now is the prime time to harvest herbs. For culinary uses, it is best to pick herbs before they flower. Choose a dry, sunny day. Spread them out in a well-aerated place. Hanging them up in bunches actually encourages mould. Herbs are often rich in essential oils that quickly 'fly off' in hot temperatures. Thus, it is best to dry them in the shade.

 

SOWING (for late season/winter harvest):

Now is the time to sow winter cabbages, kohlrabi and kale, mustards, and pak choi. If you have carrot seeds of late varieties, sow them now.

If you have a shady spot, you can continue to sow lettuce, chard, endive, chicory, chervil, radishes, coriander, rocket, and spinach. Keep them well-watered and not in full sun to prevent them from bolting too quickly.

 

TOMATO CARE

Tomatoes need a lot of water. Keep the moisture in the soil by spreading a thick layer of mulch around the base of the plants. If they don’t get enough water, the skins turn harder and will crack as the fruit develops. The best time to water is in the evening or early morning. Avoid splashing water directly on the leaves.

You can boost your plants by putting some compost around the base. Or, use liquid manure, such as nettle manure, or some other organic tomato feed available from the garden centre.

Watch out for blight and end rot. Remove yellowing leaves. Pinch out any shoots that develop in the leaf axils.

 

WATERING

Water your plants as needed, neither too much nor too little. Container plants are particularly vulnerable to drying out and need the most attention. Mulch well to keep the moisture in the soil.

Check out SeedsNow for your organic gardening supplies!

 

Happy Gardening!

 

Image by Cornell Frühauf from Pixabay

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Summer Solstice

Summer Solstice

by | Jul 10, 2026 | Seasons, Blog

Summer Solstice Reflections:

Celebrating Midsummer, Healing Herbs and the Turning of the Wheel

At Summer Solstice, the Sun has reached the glorious peak of its annual journey. Its light and warmth lingers long into the balmy evenings. The scent of Honeysuckle and Roses perfumer the air, crickets chirp tirelessly, while nightingales serenade the falling night. Meadows shimmer with wildflowers, bees move busily from blossom to blossom, and the first grains begin to ripen beneath an expansive blue sky. We celebrate the longest day and shortest night. A magical time, when the veil between the worlds is gossamer thin and otherworldly beings can easily cross between, like wisps of mist betwixt the trees.

The Summer Solstice: A Celebration of Light and Abundance

In Celtic mythology, the Summer Solstice, marks the time when the young Sun-God Belenos and the Earth Goddess have reached the peak of their ecstatic embrace. Nature rejoices and joins their rapture. At this threshold moment we celebrate the life-force in all its abundance and vitality.

Traditionally, Midsummer celebrations extended over twelve days, corresponding to the twelve sacred days of Midwinter and Christmas. This liminal season represents a threshold between the waxing and waning halves of the year. In this twilight zone magic happened, blessings carried particular power and the unseen world drew close to our own.

Our ancestors gathered to honour the life force in all its generous abundance. They prayed for protection from summer storms, lightning and fire, blessed their grain stores, fields and livestock, and gave thanks for the promise of the coming harvest. Bonfires were lit across hillsides and villages, symbolising the fullness of the Sun's power. Young couples leapt hand in hand across the flames, receiving the fire's symbolic blessing for love, health and fertility.

Midsummer Herbs: Gathering Nature's Healing Gifts

For herbalists, Midsummer is one of the most important harvesting seasons of the year. Many medicinal plants have now reached the height of their potency, filled with the warmth and energy of the summer sun. Traditionally, herbs gathered around the Summer Solstice were believed to possess exceptional healing and protective virtues, making this the perfect time to replenish the annual stores.

Among the classic herbs of Midsummer are:

St. John's Wort (Hypericum perforatum)
The quintessential herb of the Summer Solstice, its brilliant golden flowers seem to capture the very essence of sunlight. Traditionally gathered around St John's Day, it has long been associated with protection, light, courage and emotional resilience.

Mugwort (Artemisia vulgaris)
A sacred plant of travellers, dreamers and seers, mugwort has been used for centuries in divination, purification and vision work. Worn as a protective garland or burned as incense, it is closely linked with Midsummer traditions throughout Europe.

Vervain (Verbena officinalis)
One of the most revered ritual herbs of the ancient world, vervain was regarded as sacred by Druids and Romans alike. It symbolises blessing, peace and spiritual insight, and was often gathered ceremonially at the height of summer.

Chamomile (Matricaria chamomilla)
Its cheerful golden centres reflect the midsummer sun. Chamomile reminds us that gentleness is itself a form of strength, bringing calm to the body while encouraging harmony and contentment.

Mullein (Verbascum thapsus)
Its tall flowering spires stand like golden torches in fields and along country lanes. Traditionally associated with protection and courage, mullein was also carried as a ceremonial torch during seasonal celebrations.

Ground Ivy (Glechoma hederacea)
An ancient medicinal herb that cheekily carpets woodland edges and sometimes the lawn, Ground Ivy reminds us that some of nature's greatest gifts are easily overlooked. This humble little herb served as a magical flavouring herb and strengthened the potency of the Mid-Summer Ale. 

The Spiritual Meaning of the Summer Solstice

Spiritually, the Summer Solstice marks a threshold in the Wheel of the Year. Standing halfway through the annual cycle, it invites us to pause and reflect before the wheel begins its gradual turn towards full summer mode and eventually, autumn. It is the perfect moment to seek guidance by divination, or to retreat on a vision quest to hold counsel with the gods. At this halfway point of the wheel of the year, we reflect on the previous 6 months.

How is your inner garden flourishing?

Have the seeds you planted in spring begun to grow?

Are they flowering and showing signs of future harvest?

Have you remained true to the intentions you set at the beginning of the year, or have life's unexpected turns lured you off into the tall grass along the way?

Perhaps those original goals no longer feel meaningful. Growth often changes our perspective. Midsummer reminds us that changing direction is not failure but wisdom. It offers an opportunity to pause, realign and reconnect with our deeper purpose before continuing the journey through the second half of the year.

If your path feels uncertain, this is a wonderful time for quiet contemplation, meditation, pilgrimage, divination or a solitary walk through woodland or meadow. However we choose to listen, Midsummer encourages us to quiet the constant chatter of everyday life so that the softer voice of intuition can once again be heard.

Celebrating the Joy of Midsummer

Above all, Midsummer is a festival of joy. It is a time to gather with family and friends, light bonfires beneath the lingering twilight, dance, feast, sing and celebrate the extraordinary abundance of life itself.

The twelve days surrounding the Summer Solstice invite us to step outside our usual routines and simply be present. To watch the sunset without hurry. To breathe the fragrance of wild herbs. To walk barefoot across warm grass. To give thanks for the beauty that surrounds us and for our own place within the great web of life.

A Personal Reflection

While the symbolic truth of this special time is always true, some years it feels like the magical realms are more remote and it is harder to cross the threshold.

This year, the Summer Solstice arrived beneath an unforgiving heatwave. Long before the wheel has fully turned, drought has begun to parch the land, threatening crops, wildlife and the delicate balance upon which all life depends. Nature—including us humans—is under increasing pressure, much of it of our own making, while across the world, violent conflict continues to bring suffering and uncertainty.

Sorrow eclipses my joy. It is difficult to celebrate the abundance of life without also acknowledging its vulnerability. And yet, perhaps that, too, is part of the deeper teaching of Midsummer. To celebrate wholeheartedly while recognising that every gift carries with it a responsibility to protect what we love.

So this year, I find myself seeking stillness rather than spectacle, offering gratitude alongside concern, and adding a simple prayer to the ancient blessings of the season:

May wisdom guide us.

May the Earth be healed.

And above all, may lasting peace return to all.

Happy Summer Solstice.

I love the winter

I love the winter

by | Jan 31, 2026 | Eco-Spirituality, Uncategorized

winter sunset

I love the winter, calm and still,

when the life force withdraws

and sleeps among the roots.

I love the barren, naked trees—

fragile branching silhouettes,

transparent filigree against the sky.

I love the birds

Flocking together,

dancing through the air

seeking shelter in the shrubs.

I love the scarlet rosehips,

A splash of colour in the hedges

when all is grey-on-grey.

Gardening Jobs in December

I love the mud beneath my feet

as it tries to pull off my boots,

and the puddles in the furrows,

mirroring the sky.

I love the remnants of snow,

clinging to the grass,

like crystalline sculptures

of frozen spiderwebs.

I love the winter

I love the leaden clouds

draped across the evening sky

And the glowing winter sun,

 heavenly fire, igniting the horizon.

I love the winter’s timelessness,

frozen in eternity.

But if you listen carefully,

you can hear the murmur of thaw.

Imbolc Awakenings

Imbolc Awakenings

by | Jan 31, 2026 | Seasons

 

Imbolc Reflections: The Return of the Light and the Stirring of Life

Winter is still with us, though it has entered a moody and changeable phase. One day it is frosty, stormy, and inhospitable; a few days later, the sun pops out to tease us with warmth and brightness. And yet, despite winter’s lingering grip, there is one unmistakable sign that something has shifted: the days are noticeably longer now. Light is returning, minute by minute, almost imperceptibly, but with unstoppable determination.

Imbolc marks this subtle turning point of the year. At the beginning of February, it stands midway between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox, heralding the first stirrings of new life, the breaking of the waters. In nature, the snow and ice begins to thaw.

Traditionally associated with Brighid, the Maiden Goddess of light, fire, poetry, and healing, Imbolc celebrates the increasing warmth of the sun and the promise of renewal and fertility of the Earth. Each passing day brings a few more precious minutes of daylight as the sun climbs higher in the sky.

To be sure, it is still winter. Frost may still coat the ground, and cold winds still remind us that the season has not yet released its hold. But if you look closely, signs of awakening are everywhere. Buds swell on bare branches, full of energy and intent. Beneath the soil, last season’s seeds soak up the  moisture, preparing for germination. The sap begins to gurgle and rise again. The wheel of the seasons is turning, even if the movement is slow and largely unseen.

Some plants announce this change bravely. Snowdrops pierce frozen ground, their white bells nodding gently above leaf litter and snow. Winter aconite flashes sudden gold in dark corners of the garden. Dwarf irises and other early bloomers defy the odds, reminding us that life does not wait for perfect conditions. The life force stirs deep within the Earth, and within ourselves.

Imbolc, Candlemas, and the Theme of Purification

Imbolc is also known as Candlemas in the Christian calendar, a festival of light, cleansing, and spiritual preparation. Traditionally, this was a time of purification — both inward and outward — preparing body and soul for the coming cycle of growth.

In the past, this marked the approach of Lent, a period of fasting and abstinence. Heavy winter foods were gradually reduced, allowing the body to cleanse itself and regain vitality after the long months of cold and scarcity. This rhythm mirrored nature’s own process: a shedding of excess, a clearing of space, a readiness for renewal.

Symbolically, Imbolc invites us to do the same. To let go of what no longer serves us. To simplify, to clear, and to make room — not through force, but through gentle attention and care.

 

Plants of Imbolc: Messengers of the Light

Imbolc is deeply connected with plants that signify resilience, purity, and renewal. These plants can be braided into the season as symbolic and practical points of connection.

Snowdrop (Galanthus nivalis)
A classic plant of Imbolc, snowdrops symbolise hope, purity, and determination. Their appearance amidst frost and snow marks the first visible sign that winter’s harsh grip is waning.

Hazel (Corylus avellana)
Associated with wisdom, inspiration, and poetic insight, hazel is sacred to Brighid. Hasel is a transmitter of cosmic energies and symbolizes inner knowing and the spark of creative vision that emerges during this liminal time.

Birch (Betula spp.)
A tree of beginnings and renewal, birch is often one of the first trees to leaf out after winter. It symbolises purification, fresh starts, and the clearing out of the old and unneeded.

Almond (Prunus dulces)
In Mediterranean climates, the Almond tree is an early harbinger of spring. Its pinkish white flowers adorn the still barren landscape, a promise of abundance and fecundity to come.

Rosemary (Salvia rosmarinus)
An evergreen herb traditionally associated with memory, clarity, and protection, rosemary bridges winter and spring. Its resilience reflects the continuity of life even during dormancy.

Imbolc as a Time of Vision and Intention

Imbolc is a threshold — a liminal space between what has been and what is yet to come. At this time, a space opens allowing us to pause and look inward. To reflect honestly on our strengths and weaknesses, our virtues and our shadows. To ask ourselves difficult but necessary questions.

What nourishment does your soul need now?
What intentions are quietly forming within you?
How do you wish to give back to life as the year unfolds?
Are you walking your talk?

Imbolc is a time for purification, vows, affirmations, and quiet commitments rather than grand declarations. Seeds — literal or symbolic — are selected, setting intentions. Tend to your inner flame and protect it from harsh winds and careless neglect.

Growth begins long before it becomes visible. The light is still dim, but it is growing steadily. Tend it gently. Soon the sun will rise higher, its warmth growing stronger with each passing day. And when it does, life — both within and without — will surge to fullness once more.

Winter Solstice Reflections

Winter Solstice Reflections

by | Dec 30, 2025 | Seasons

Winter Solstice Reflections: Honouring the Longest Night and the Return of the Light

Winter Solstice Blessings for the Darkest Time of the Year

The Winter Solstice marks the shortest day and the longest night of the year, a sacred turning point in the seasonal cycle. The trees have shed their leaves, standing stripped and skeletal against the sky. All visible signs of life have retreated below ground, withdrawn into roots, seeds, and buds, slumbering until they are awoken by the growing light. Frozen in time, the land lies barren and still. Barely rising above the horizon, the Sun sends only a few pale, hesitant rays of light — more a promise than a presence. The birds have left on their long journeys to milder climes, their songs replaced by silence. The Earth has entered its deep hibernation, holding its breath.

At the Winter Solstice, the Light is Reborn

This season can feel stark, even unforgiving. The darkness is long, the cold persistent, and the days seem reluctant to begin. And yet, it is precisely at this moment — at the very depth of the dark — that we find cause to rejoice. For deep within the Earth, unseen and protected, a tiny spark of light is born. Fragile as a newborn in its crib, the sun-saviour god returns, not in triumph, but in vulnerability. The light does not blaze; it flickers. It asks for patience, trust, and care.

We stand on the threshold of a new cycle, not yet certain how it will unfold, not yet sure whether this tender beginning will thrive. And yet, where there is life, there is hope. The Winter Solstice reminds us that renewal does not arrive with noise or certainty, but quietly — almost imperceptibly — in the darkest hour.

In the old days, the twelve days of Christmas marked a liminal time: a pause between what has been and what is yet to come. The veil between the worlds was believed to be at its thinnest, and spirits could pass through more easily. The same is true of the days surrounding the Summer Solstice, when light reaches its zenith before beginning its slow decline. These moments are thresholds, times outside ordinary time. Otherworldly beings, ancestral presences, and forgotten memories wander among the living, reminding us that reality is layered, and that we are never as separate as we imagine.

Sacred Plants associated with the Winter Solstice and  Christmas:

Follow the links to the Encyclopaedia entry to learn more:

Frankincense (Boswellia spp.)
Traditionally burned as sacred incense, frankincense is associated with prayer, purification, and the rising of light from darkness. Its resin connects the earthly and the divine, making it a powerful Winter Solstice ally.

Myrrh (Commiphora myrrha)
A plant of grief, healing, and protection, myrrh reminds us that darkness is not absence, but depth. It accompanies rites of mourning, transition, and rebirth.

Fir (Abies spp.)
Evergreen through the darkest months, fir symbolises endurance, continuity, and life that persists beneath the snow.

Mistletoe (Viscum album)
Sacred to the Druids, mistletoe grows between worlds — neither rooted in earth nor fully of the sky — embodying liminality and renewal.

Holly (Ilex aquifolium)
Evergreen and thorny, holly is a guardian of the dark season. Its bright red berries are the original Christmas-tree baubles, glowing bright in the monochrome landscape and offering nourishment to overwintering birds.

Winter Solstice Reflections

The Winter Solstice is, above all, a time of reflection. A time to sit with memory, to honour what has been, and to acknowledge both loss and growth. We are called to turn inward, to listen more deeply, and to take stock of the year that is drawing to a close. Not every year is gentle. Not every journey is easy. There may have been grief, uncertainty, or exhaustion along the way. Yet even in difficult years, there are moments of kindness, connection, and resilience to be grateful for — small lights that sustained us through the pain.

In the quiet space of the Winter Solstice, we reflect on gratitude: on love given and received, on care extended to others and, perhaps, finally to ourselves. We remember the importance of being there for one another — of showing up, even imperfectly, in a world that so often asks too much. We allow ourselves to dream, gently and without pressure, about our hopes for the year ahead. Not grand resolutions, perhaps, but intentions: how to live more truthfully, more compassionately, and more in tune with what truly matters.

Winter Solstice - A Turning Point on the Wheel of Time

The Winter Solstice marks a turning point. Though the cold may deepen and winter still lies ahead, the light has begun its return. Each day from now on carries a little more brightness than the last. The promise of a new dawn is already woven into the dark.

may your light shine bright.

Count your blessings and celebrate hope. The Wheel of Time is turning, as it always does. The light is returning — quietly but surely. Let us cherish and protect this tiny flame of hope, tending it with care. And when its fire grows stronger, life will once more stir, rise, and return to the Earth.

Plant Profile: Poppy (Papaver somniferum)

by | Aug 3, 2025 | Plants & People, Plant Profiles, Plants & the Sacred

Poppy Field
Image by NickyPe from Pixabay

The Mysterious History of the Opium Poppy

Opium Poppy Papaver somniferum
Synonyms Opium Poppy, Mawseed, Herb of Joy, Mohn, Klapper-Rosen, Mago, Magesamen, Weismagen, wilder Magen, Magensaph, Rosule

Description:

Opium Poppies are nothing if not showy. Their sturdy stems and large leaves make a stark contrast to their large but oddly flimsy flowers. The delicate petals give the impression of a butterfly that is just about to take off. At the base of the flower sits a prominent, many-rayed stigma surrounded by a mass of stamens. After the flower has been fertilized, the petals drop off, leaving the seed capsule exposed as it swells and ripens like a pregnant belly.

Individual plants grow to between 70 cm, and 130 cm tall. The erect stems and large wavy leaves have a tough, rubbery texture. The leaves are indented and clasp the stem. All green parts of the plant are covered by a greyish-blue waxy substance that is easily rubbed off. Botanists describe this feature as glaucous.

When any green part is cut or wounded, a milky latex oozes out and turns brown as it dries. This substance is known as raw opium.

The seed capsule of Papaver somniferum is almost spherical and has a star-shaped, flattened lid. As it dries, the top shrinks and lifts. Tiny holes are formed underneath the rim, allowing the tiny, white or bluish-black seeds can disperse.

Origin and Distribution

It is difficult to establish with any certainty just where Papaver somniferum originated or who its genetic parents might have been. But, most researchers now agree that the Mediterranean region of Asia Minor is its most likely 'original home'.

From this strategically advantageous position, they spread east into Asia, south into North Africa and north into Central Europe. Today, poppies are even found as far north as Britain. Poppies are popular as ornamentals, and breeders have developed dozens of varieties of different colours and flower arrangements.

The Papaver genus comprises about 100 species that occur throughout the temperate regions of the world. Poppies like to grow in association with corn. In early summer, the related Scarlet Poppy (Papaver rhoeas) can often be seen in cornfields and verges. This species is much smaller, has scarlet-red petals and small, elongated seed capsules. Although the Scarlet Poppy has historically also been used medicinally, its action is much milder than that of Papaver somniferum.

Opium Poppies are not native to the New World. But when they appeared on their shores, Eastern tribes adopted their medicinal uses, which they learned from the Europeans.

Image by Peter Kraayvanger from Cultural History

The delicate Poppy flowers are beautiful to behold. Their papery petals gently waft in the summer's breeze - alas, it is a short-lived beauty. Here one day, gone the next. The fleeting splendour only lasts a few days before the petals fall, revealing a bulging seed pod.

The seed pods hold a myriad of tiny poppy seeds, a familiar item of the kitchen larder. We use them as toppings of bread rolls and bagels, or as cake fillings. Less commonly available is the delicately nutty seed oil, highly esteemed in gourmet cuisines.

But poppy has a secret power, and it flows within its fleshy stems, leaves and unripe seed capsules: its milky latex.

When it oxidizes and dries, the latex turns brown and becomes what the Ancients knew as 'opion'. This substance has been used for thousands of years. In the days of blood and gore, opion was a god-sent pain-reliever. Even today, the most effective pain relievers are still predominantly based on it.

Thanks to its potent analgesic and hypnotic properties, Opium relieves not only physical but also emotional pain. But woe to those who are seduced by it. Taken too regularly, it entraps the body and chains the mind to addiction, causing delusion, apathy, and even death.

Yet, in the words of Paracelsus:

"What is there that is not poison? All things are poison, and nothing is without poison. Solely the dose determines that a thing is not a poison.”

Our age-old relationship with poppies proves the point. Throughout history, it has brought great relief but also suffering and death.

 

Historical record

Archaeological evidence suggests that humans have used poppies since pre-historic times. Archaeobotanists have found charred remains of poppies and opium at Neolithic settlements, burial sites and even in the tombs of Egyptian Pharaohs. The latter were even decorated with paintings of Opium Poppy, Mandrake and Blue Water Lily - all considered magical plants connected to the underworld gods.

The earliest written record was found in Sumer and dates back to about 2000 B.C. It refers to poppies as 'Hul Gil' - the Herb of Joy. From Sumer, the knowledge and use of poppies spread throughout the Middle East to Babylonia, Assyria and Egypt, Persia and Greece.

They are mentioned in the famous Egyptian Eber's Papyrus (1500 B.C.), which recommends them as a remedy to calm incessantly crying babies. Remarkably, this use has persisted until the beginning of the 20th century in parts of North Africa and Europe. It certainly kept children quiet, but it also reduced their natural curiosity, thus dimming their wits.

From Hippocrates to Avicenna, Dioscorides and Galen - all the ancient medical texts mention opium as an effective painkiller and sedative.

Dioscorides offers a detailed description of how to obtain the latex:

"Those who wish to obtain the sap (of the Poppy) must go after the dew has dried, and draw their knife around the star in such a manner as not to penetrate the inside of the capsule, and also make straight incisions down the sides. Then with your finger wipe the extruding tear into a shell. When you return to it not long after, you will find the sap thickened, and the next day you will find it much the same. Pound the sap in your mortar and roll the mass into pills."

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Image by Andy Faeth from Mythology

Poppies were considered sacred to Hypnos, the Greek god of sleep, and they guarded the entrance to his drowsy realm. Hypnos is often depicted holding the seed capsules in his hands and adorning his head. He brought prophetic dreams and soothed emotional pain with forgetfulness.

At the temple of Aesclepius on the Greek island of Cos, poppies were used in a kind of sleep therapy. Aesclepius is a god of healing, but the only medicine he prescribed was a potent brew of opium and other herbs, while the therapeutic recommendations were revealed directly to the patients via visionary dreams.

The Romans identified Hypnos with their god of sleep, 'Somnus', who lent his name to poppies scientific nomenclature. 'Somniferus' comes from the Latin 'somnus ferre', - bringer of sleep.

Poppies had a strong association with the gods of the Underworld. In Greek mythology, they were sacred to Thanatos or Hades, the Lord of the Underworld, and ruler of the realm of the dead. Excessive doses of opium can bring eternal sleep.

But they were also sacred to Demeter, the Earth-Goddess, who taught humankind the art of agriculture and particularly the cultivation of grains such as wheat and barley. Demeter was, of course, inconsolable when Hades abducted her daughter Persephone. Only poppies managed to soothe her pain. Poppies love mingling among the cornfields, and their bulging seed pods, containing an abundance of tiny seeds, serve as a perfect symbol of fertility.

Some scholars believe that opium was a chief ingredient of the secret ritual drink served at the Elysian Mystery rites. Unfortunately, the recipe ranks among the best-kept secrets of the ancient world, so we will never know for sure.

Mythology tells us that poppies sprang from Aphrodite's tears as she mourned the loss of her lover, Adonis. In ancient times, her birthplace, the island of Cyprus, was a major centre of poppy cultivation and trade.

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Folk Magic

Poppy's association with the goddess of love is also reflected in its relaxing aphrodisiac properties. Opium was very popular in folkloristic love magic. During the Middle Ages, it was the ingredient of choice for love charms, philtres and potions. Poppies were also tasked with predicting the fortunes of lovers. To learn the identity of a future spouse or divine the outcome of a love affair, the inquirer would write his question on a piece of parchment and place it inside a poppy seed capsule. The seed pod was then placed under the pillow until a prophetic dream would reveal all.

Naturally, love associates with fertility. The belly-like seed pod full of seeds makes an apt symbol not just of fertility, but also of prosperity. On New Year's Eve, giving gifts of poppy sweetbread served as tokens of prosperity blessings, while the seed capsules were used as a fertility charm.

Invisibility was also considered one of the poppy's magic powers. For this purpose, it was included in a magic potion. This use is probably linked to the myth of Persephone. It is believed that Hades' wore a cap of invisibility that resembled a poppy seed pod when he abducted Persephone.

Yet, poppy seeds are also said to be anti-demonic. If one found such nasty creatures hard on one's heels, all one had to do to get rid of them was to toss some poppy seeds in their direction. Apparently, demons and vampires are compelled to count everything. A handful of scattered poppy seeds would keep them busy long enough to allow you to escape.

opium as a pharmaceutical drug
Image by vaidosa from Pixabay

From traditional herbal medicine to potent pharmaceutical drug and addiction

 

Opium was widely used in the ancient world, but it was Andromachos, the personal physician of Emperor Nero, who popularized it. One day, Nero challenged Andromachos to create a true panacea, a remedy that would ease all pain and diseases. The physician came up with a potent potion consisting of about sixty different plants and substances, including opium, which he called 'Theriak'. Later, Galen refined the brew and renamed it Galene. It became so popular throughout Europe that it rose to the status of a miracle cure. But the potion was expensive, and some ingredients were difficult to obtain, which led to adulteration.

During the Middle Ages, medicine became 'heroic' - in other words, unsympathetic, and patients were expected to simply bear their pain. The use of opium as a painkiller declined. But eventually, Paracelsus revived it by creating a stripped-down version of the original Theriak recipe, which proved extremely effective and soon surpassed even the success of the original. He compounded his concoction into pill form and called it 'Laudanum Paracelsi'.

 

 

Laudanum

He had managed to make his painkiller even more effective by the simple addition of lemon juice. The acid subtly changes opium's chemistry and enhances its anodyne action. For a long time, Laudanum was a celebrated panacea, believed to be effective for every ailment except leprosy.

The somewhat hyperbolic reputation meant that it was often in short supply. But it also pricked scientific curiosity and inspired numerous experiments. It even gave rise to the groundbreaking invention of the hypodermic needle. In 1656, Sir Christopher Wren first employed a syringe to prove the theory of blood circulation. He injected a dog's hind leg with a solution of opium, and sure enough, the drug rapidly took effect over the dog's entire body.

In 1680, the English Doctor Thomas Sydenham revised Paracelsus' potion once again. His aim was to purify the raw drug and rid it of impurities that seemed to cause 'sickness' when taken in large quantities. He added sherry wine, saffron, cinnamon and cloves to Paracelsus' Laudanum and renamed it 'Sydenham's Laudanum'. It was no more effective than the original, but it kicked off a new wave of enthusiasm for opium-based products. Soon every chemist seemed to market their own blend. Venice Treacle, Mithridate, London Laudanum and Dr Bate's Pacific Pills all became popular household names. But the available raw opium could barely keep up with the demand.

Laudanum was as popular as aspirin is today. Physicians routinely prescribed twice-weekly preventative dosing. Alas, sometimes too much of a good thing proves, well..., too much.

 

 

Overprescription and Addiction

It was at this time that overprescription led to the first cases of serious opium addiction. The problem was compounded by the fact that Laudanum was even overprescribed for children. But the problem with an addictive substance such as opium is that frequent dosing increases the body's resistance, and larger amounts are required to get the same results.

In 1700, Dr John Jones published a book called 'The Mysteries of Opium Revealed'. In the course of about 400 pages, he extolled the properties of opium. Describing its uses and effects, he also reported on its pleasant side effects and symptoms of addiction. Although his work was clearly biased and likely to have been influenced by his own intimate relationship with the subject, it did contain a grain of genius. Jones was the first to intuit that opium actually imitated substances that are already present in the body. But it took another 275 years before scientists discovered these substances, which subsequently became known as endorphins.

 

 

Morphine

Debate and experimentation continued. In 1799, Friedrich Sertürner, a young German pharmacist's apprentice, observed that the effects of opium seemed to vary considerably from batch to batch. He became convinced that this must be due to the varying presence of an active constituent in the raw opium. After only four years of experimentation, he managed to isolate such a substance. In allusion to the Greek god of sleep, he called 'morphine'. But he wrongly believed that this purified compound was free of the unpleasant characteristics of opium. He had assumed that morphine was safer because only a tiny amount of it was necessary to induce far stronger effects than those of raw opium. But neither he nor anyone else at the time realized that it was also far more addictive. Soon, several pharmaceutical companies started to churn out morphine by the boatload. At the same time, Wren's earlier invention for injecting opium was perfected and morphed into what we now know as the hypodermic syringe. The improvement was celebrated as a great success, since the administration of morphine via a syringe tripled its efficacy.

The story of opium epitomizes the risk of relying on science to solve all our problems. Sometimes the solution to one problem engenders new ones that we only fully grasp much later.

(The history of poppy also has a very interesting, dark and thought-provoking political aspect, which, however, is beyond the scope of this article. Those interested in this plant and its impact on world history should read up on the opium wars - the consequences of which still linger.