This month I’ll be hosting my first blog party for the UK Herbarium bloggers and anyone else who fancies joining in. I’ve chosen the topic ‘Leaf and Blossom, Bark and Berry: My Favourite Tree Medicines’.
I chose this topic for two reasons. Firstly, and most simply, because I have a great love of trees, they were my closest companions when living in the country and have kept me sane whilst living in the city. Secondly, I wanted to honour the fact that many of our favourite herbal medicines are from trees. From Hawthorn to Birch, Cherry to Peach, Linden to Oak, we use many parts of trees in our healing, including berries, leaves, twigs, barks and blossom. For us here in the UK we’re mainly harvesting blossoms and some barks at the moment but our friends in New Zealand will be using entirely different parts. Some lovely essential oils also come from trees including Cedarwood, Sandalwood and, my favourite, Neroli. You can choose any part of any tree to write about and the topic is fluid so feel free to include shrubs in the definition of trees. We can also be creative with our idea of what is medicine, I know for me there is nothing more healing than a walk in the woods so please don’t feel limited to writing about a tree part and it’s medicinal uses, you can be as imaginative as you like with this topic. Whether your medicine is a tree essence, a healing syrup, a blend of oils, a story, or a simple expression of the benefit we get from trees through words or pictures, we’d love to read what you have to say.
If you have your own blog then add your post before June 20th and email me the link at email@example.com -I’ll post all the links here on the evening of the 20th.
If you don’t have a blog but would like to join us anyway you can email your piece as a word document to Debs at the UK Herbarium on debs at herbal-haven dot co dot uk and she will add it to the UK Herbarium blog as a guest post.
Trees by Ruth Fainlight
Trees, our mute companions,
looming through the winter mist
from the side of the road,
lit for a moment in passing
by the car’s headlamps:
ash and oak, chestnut and yew;
witnesses, huge mild beings
who suffer the consequence
of sharing our planet and cannot
move away from any evil
we subject them to,
whose silent absolution hides
the scars of our sins, who always
forgive- yet still assume
the attributes of judges, not victims.