The custom of taking the earth's bounty and offering it up in a sacred place has gone on for millenniums. And I shall do the same today.
I have gathered roses and black-eyed Susan's from my garden because I have nourished them and helped them grow.
I don't have an orchard but I do have a crab apple tree, a thing of joy that lifts the spirit when it blossoms in the spring and then yields berries than can sustain the body in the form of jellies and preserves in the summer.
I walked through fields this morning, aware that what at first glance appears to be a weed, is truly a gift, an offering from Mother Earth. I picked Queen Anne's Lace ( wild carrot) because the root can be eaten and my ancestors knew the root was high in vitamins. I cut down chickory. What looks like a pretty blue wild flower has a root that can be converted into a drink. At the beginning of the 18th century Polish agronomist Krzysztof Kluk wrote: "The roots are kept over the winter by burying in sand in the cellars. The roots were cut into chunks, dried in the oven and used in place of coffee....the roots of this plant are a much respected medicine: it opens, cleanses, loosens phlegm and fortifies the stomach and lungs. The most common way of ingesting it is through an alcoholic beverage. For the lungs, it is taken with sugar."
That this Polish custom of taking plants to church to be blessed has is its roots in pagan times does not disturb me. Instead, I feel a sense of continuity, a part of something that has been going on for as long as man has roamed the earth. There's a feeling of gratefulness.
Everything is gift.
One of the biggest moments in my life was being able to sign for my very own library card. When I'm not reading, researching and writing I'm riding my bike, sewing or gardening. I love flea markets, folk art, and traveling to Poland.