Eastern Red Cedar (Essential Herbs for Witches)

*Notes from the Hekate kits which were released October 23’.

Latin name: Juniperus virginiana

Planet: Sun, Saturn

Element: Fire

Parts used: foliage, wood, essential oil

Astrological Association: Leo

Energy: Masculine

Magical properties: Longevity, protection, preservation, strength, wisdom, perseverance, renewal, transformation, balance, connection to the divine through nature, return of stolen goods, defense.

Healing properties: Fever, cough, skin conditions, respiratory issues

Eastern Red Cedar is not actually a true cedar, it’s a juniper, as its latin name, Juniperus virginiana, indicates. Naturalized in Europe, Asia, and North America, Eastern Red Cedar is present in all temperate regions of the northern hemisphere and stretches into parts of the southern hemisphere. This hardy tree has deep roots and tolerates poor rocky soil, salt, heat, and wind, and is drought tolerant.

Medicinally juniper has been used in bathing, sometimes as a scourge, to alleviate rheumatoid arthritis and to relieve depression symptoms and exhaustion. It’s also been used to heal open wounds. Juniper is warming and pungent and affects the liver and kidneys. Its bitter action stimulates the gallbladder and liver and it aids in digestion. Juniper is also used for respiratory issues, urinary tract infections, and skin ailments like psoriasis and eczema. The warming effect of juniper makes it helpful in breaking fevers. Eastern red cedar is an abortifacient and should not be used by pregnant women.

Juniper berries have been used to flavor food, beer, and notably gin, and in Ireland the unripe berries are tinctured with whiskey and used as a general health tonic.

As for juniper’s use in folklore and witchcraft, around the Mediterranean and Aegean seas, it was planted to protect a home from evil spirits and malicious men. It was sometimes built into a new house as a structural beam or to fill cracks between stone to drive away illness and evil spirits. Branches were hung above doors to repel witches.

Because it is an evergreen, it’s also used in fertility rites and the berries are sometimes used as an aphrodisiac.

Shamans in Siberia burned and inhaled the smoke of juniper to induce trance, and because of its high thujone contain, it can indeed induce altered states. Thujone does build in the liver over time so care should be taken to limit smoke inhalation to occasional use.

Burning juniper as a smudge was common in Native American rituals for purification and to cleanse sacred ritual space. Cherokee natives believed that the wood of this cedar held the spirits of their ancestors. In other native ritual practices, it was believed that messages were sent to the Creator when it was burnt ceremonially.

In Scottish folk magic, juniper is used to ‘sain’ livestock and homes during Beltaine and Samhain. Saining is done by lighting bonfires and driving cattle between them.  These fires would be lit from sacred Neid fires and extinguished home fires would be relit with this fire.  People also hopped over these fires to rid themselves of negative spirits. Juniper (lubhar beinne) was used, and to a lesser extent, mountain ash or rowan (caorran).  The cattle byre was sained, and the lintel over the byre was anointed with wine or human urine. Homes were also sained with burning juniper and “in such quantities to fill the whole house with smoke.”  Juniper would have also hung at windows to ward off witches and evil spirits and to rid the house of pests and diseases.

According to Scottish folklore, juniper needed to be harvested in a particular way, like all magical plants.  It was pulled by the roots, taking 4 branches between 5 fingers while an incantation was repeated.  Today we should probably refrain from yanking bushes from the ground and taking a branch or some berries after asking permission should suffice.  The branches can be dried and burned or the berries can be burned on a charcoal disc, or dip the branch into sea salted water and sprinkle a bit on yourself and your magical working space.

While we generally think of juniper as a plant of the Sun, it does have older Saturnian associations perhaps because they are very long lived, but maybe also because of their often gnarled wood and spiky foliage, giving them a dark, ominous aspect. Like both yew and cypress trees, Easter red cedar is common in older cemeteries in the southern united states. This may be because its evergreen leaves have come to symbolize ‘eternal life’, but through the ancient Greeks, we have an association with juniper as a plant of Hekate, perhaps because she led the procession of the dead. Through Hekate, it is also associated with Medea, a Hekatean priestess.

I choose to substitute Eastern red cedar for the yews, cypress, and cedar we traditionally see aligned with Hekate because ERC happens to grow in abundance in my bioregion and has a long history of use in sacred rites across the world. Eastern red cedar is a plant of protection and is excellent for banishing, inspiring courage and strength, purification and release.

Tit for Tat: Nontraditional Offerings

I have a personal rule when petitioning a deity or spirit or ancestor to help me accomplish a thing. The bigger the ask, the bigger the offering. Whatever we offer, it’s a sacrifice.

Of course I do the usual things; flowers, favored food, particular alcohols and beverages, tobacco, incense. All of these things may be welcomed, but I believe that when I’m petitioning a deity or spirit to do a bigger task or to guide me on deeper work, my offering shouldn’t be low effort if I expect them to work on my behalf. My assumption is that deities too get bored with sameness, and if I’m trying to get their attention, I need to offer something that will delight them or intrigue them.

That isn’t to say that small offerings aren’t effective, but if I’m petitioning Athena to help me see justice in a court case, for example, I want her to know I’m serious and that I’m willing to dig deep to have her on my side. I’m pulling out all stops to get her to help me, commensurate to my ability to provide offerings. In other words, if all I’m able to do is buy Athena a bunch of grocery store flowers, that’s enough because that’s the best I can do. But if I’m able take that further and grow and nurture a garden of flowers dedicated to her, I’m going to do that, because I want her to see me making an effort. I want her to know that this petition is important to me and I’m willing to work to get her help.

Big effort offerings don’t have to cost a lot of money and they don’t have to be ostentatious. We’re not talking about sacrificing babies and we’re not emptying our bank accounts. The amount of effort is the point here, and our willingness to go beyond the typical is what we’re aiming for. I think long term commitment is important too.

One of my favorite offerings to Hekate is a yearly donation to Coyote Project. 10% of every sale of my Coyote candles goes to them to help educate and impact legislation on coyote killing contests in the United States. Dogs are sacred to her and according to Apollonius of Rhodes, the barking of hounds signaled that she was near. Ovid tells us that black dogs were sacrificed to her, but I don’t offer animal sacrifices, and it feels appropriate to make offerings to her instead to protect this species of canine. I also make food donations to my local animal shelter monthly. A key aspect of these donations for me, is that I commit to ongoing support to the Coyote Project and my local shelter indefinitely rather than just once.

A few years ago someone asked me what an appropriate offering would be to Hera to help with some marital issues. Rather than offer the typical flowers and incense, I suggested they give up something. I suggested they give up cigarettes or alcohol or some other vice. It’s a unconventional offering, but it works two-fold: she’d be giving up something detrimental to her health and maybe to her relationship, and she’d also be treating her own body as an offering. In other words, her body becomes a temple to Hera.

Here are other offerings to consider that go beyond the wine, flowers, incense routine.

• Commit to a fitness or health regime.

• Volunteer in your community.

• Prepare a dumb (silent) supper.

• Learn a new skill and practice it in their honor.

• Write a poem, play, or music as offering.

• Spend time learning about them.

• Prepare a ritual wine or mead and use it in your offerings.

• Make art depicting them.

• Sing songs or recite their hymns.

• Make revelry and dance and laugh and howl at the moon.

• Grow a garden of plants dedicated to your deity.

• Give up something, i.e. soda, liquor, excess spending, red meat, unhealthy relationships.

• Clean a local park or stream.

• Commit to prayer or meditation everyday.

• Dedicate a perfume or scent to them and wear it daily or during ritual.

• Practice nature stewardship.

• Make a pilgrimage to sacred sites.

• Build a dedicated altar outside.

• Ritually clean your altar space regularly.

• Take a ritual bath and anoint yourself with perfumes and oils.

• Donate time or money to charities.

This isn’t an exhaustive list; there are many other ways of honoring and petition deity. And offering doesn’t end at the stage where you’re asking for something; it’s just good manners to make an offering of thanks once the petition is granted.

Going Greek

My trip to Greece is just a little over 2 months from now, and I’m a little nervous about this big solo thing I’ve decided to do. I’m skipping the beaches and islands on this trip, and instead will be exploring Eleusis, then on to Mycenae and the Peloponnese, looking for Pan in Arcadia, then heading up to the northwestern part of the mainland to trek the Pindus mountains and the Vikos Gorge. Then I’ll head east to various tiny villages and down south to Delphi and Mt. Olympus before making my way back to Athens.

I’ve never planned a trip this big and I’ve realized that I may be cramming too much into my short 16 day trip, but all the things are booked and paid for and I’m just going to see what happens. Have you ever done a big solo trip? My family thinks I’ve lost the plot, and they probably are not wrong, but when I was a kid, this is exactly what I hoped I’d be doing when I was 50.

If you’ve been to mainland Greece and you’ve got suggestions for weird out of the way things to do, shoot me your suggestions, especially less touristy mythological-related sites. And what should I look for to bring home to share with friends? Maybe the real question here is how much feta can I eat and how much retsina can I drink?

The artist of this painting is Frederic Edwin Church (1871)

Earl Grey Martini

I don’t have enough fucks to give at the close of this day, so here’s my messy desk and a glorious cocktail. It’s so good in fact that I’m not sure if this or a Sidecar is my favorite but at this moment, it’s this one. This is an Earl Grey martini, and while my desk is a shambles, the cocktail is sublime. Here’s what you need:

2 cups vodka

2 tbsp Earl Grey tea (bags are fine)

3/4 oz Italicus bergamot liqueur

3/4 oz fresh lemon juice

Dash of Peychaud’s bitters

Sugar for the rim

Infuse your vodka by adding your Earl Grey tea and let it steep for an hour. No longer or it’ll be bitter. Strain it. You’ll have enough for later and you’ll be glad.

Pour 2 oz of your infused vodka, Italicus, lemon juice, and bitters into a shaker. Add ice and give it a good shake. Rub a bit of lemon juice on your glass rim and dip into sugar. Strain into your glass and garnish with a strip of lemon zest.

If you can’t get your hand on the Italicus, a bit of simple syrup works fine; it just won’t be as complex.

Happy Saturday. 🍸

Ruby Slipper Cocktail

I love beets. Their barely sweet earthiness hints at something mysterious and evocative of dark rich soil. My son, 16 years old and possessed of a generally adventurous palate, says beets taste like dirt, and refuses to partake in the gustatory delights of this little root vegetable.

Since nothing will induce the boy to eat beets, I thought perhaps an entirely adult treatment was in order for the 3 bulbous orbs languishing in the produce drawer. What’s more adult than a cocktail made with beets? How best to impart the flavor of beets to a cocktail? I might’ve juiced the beets, but I liked the idea of infusing a spirit and decided on vodka. Gin also seemed a good choice, but vodka won out since it’s lack of flavor would let the beets reign supreme.

Infusing liquor is incredibly easy. I simply cut two medium-sized beets into 1/2-inch cubes, skin still on, tossed them into a one quart jar and covered with vodka. I went with a mid-range brand as something pricy would be wasted here. I slapped a lid on, put the jar in a dark cabinet and let the beets do their thing for the next three days, swirling the brilliant red concoction around once or twice a day. The longer the beets stay in the vodka, the more intense the resulting flavor will be. Taste the vodka each day to determine how beety you want it, then strain the vodka into a clean jar. That’s it – beet infused vodka, ready for whatever your imagination can dish up.

If you aren’t a lover of beets, you may be doubtful that a beet-flavored cocktail would be anything less than disgusting. Last week I infused vodka with beets, and think I’ve come up with a cocktail that might change your mind. After three days of infusing, the beet vodka was brilliant ruby red, subtly sweet and just a touch earthy; all the things I love about beets.

Pairing the beet vodka was a bit challenging. Beets are usually paired with walnuts, goat cheese, balsamic vinegar and other strong flavors that can stand up to the beet’s earthiness. I decided ginger would be a nice pairing and here’s what I came up with.

Ruby Slipper
Makes one cocktail

1 1/2 oz beet infused vodka
3 oz ginger beer (I like the really spicy ones)
Squeeze of lemon juice
Ice

Put it all into a cocktail shaker, give it a shake or two and strain into a martini glass. You could also add more ginger beer and serve it on the rocks in a tall glass if you like a more gingery taste. You could also add a bit of homemade ginger syrup if you like a sweeter tipple.

A Recipe for Ginger Syrup

I always buy too much ginger; it’s so cheap at the local Indian grocery and the pieces are enormous. After using a full pound in a batch of fire cider, I still had mounds of it so I made ginger syrup.

It’s great for easing an upset stomach, and we make a homemade version of ginger beer by adding a little to seltzer water. Add it to hot lemon water with a sprig of thyme to soothe sore throats and ease cold symptoms. It’s delicious in lemonade too, and criminally good in cocktails.

To make the syrup wash the whole root and rough chop it. No need to peel it but do remove any weird spots. Add about 2 cups of your chopped ginger to a sauce pan with 2.5 cups of water and 2 cups of sugar. Give it a stir, cover it, and bring to a low boil. Cook for at least 5 minutes to kill any yeast or bacteria, then keeping it cover, allow it to cool for an hour or two. Strain and bottle. It keeps in the fridge for a couple of months but throw it out if it develops mold on top.

You can add a split vanilla been and a few slices of lemon or orange to your saucepan during the boil if you’re extra.

Botanica Obscura 2023

From Coby Michael of The Poisoner’s Apothecary comes the 2nd Botanica Obscura Conference. This year’s event is a week long and features presentations from Thomas Hatsis, Harold Roth, the Seed Sistas, S. Connolly, Eimi OstaraMoon, Amy Blackthorn, and many other herbal and occult notables.

I’ll be among the presenters this year, speaking about two of my favorite topics: Dionysus and entheogens. We’ll look at the role of psychoactive drug use in the Dionysian rites and touch on their place in Ancient Greek cults and religion.

I was delighted to be invited and can’t wait to hear the presentations from all of the other presenters. I’ll share more details as the event schedule becomes available.

Tickets are on sale December 21. Visit www.botanicaobscuraconference.com for more info.

(photo credit: Coby Michael)

SEPTEMBER 1sT

Sherwood Forest Faire 2022

After impatiently waiting for several months to get the word, I’m excited to share that PFH will be a merchant at the 2022 season of the Sherwood Forest Faire. I’ll have all of my wares there, lots of new items, and I’ll be doing candle dipping demonstrations. I’ll have more details to share in the coming months.

Essential Herbs, Resins, and Botanicals for the Witch's Apothecary (part two - Hawthorn)

“I lingered beside the hawthorns — breathing in their invisible and unchanging odour, trying to fix it in my mind (which did not know what to do with it), losing it, recapturing it, absorbing myself in the rhythm which disposed the flowers here and there with a youthful light-heartedness… I turned away from them for a moment… And then I returned to the hawthorns, and stood before them as one stands before…masterpieces… Thus was wafted unto my ears the name Gilberte…unfolding beneath the arch of the pink hawthorn.”

Marcel Proust Swann’s Way

There are more than 280 diverse species in the Crataegus genus, which is in the rose family, Rosaceae. This small thorny tree is native to the northern temperate zone and is found growing  along forest edges, in open woodland, and often as lone trees upon hillsides. It can grow very old and can survive in harsh places. Hawthorn is grown around the world as an ornamental tree and for its medicinal berries, leaves and flowers. It is deciduous with lobed or toothed leaves and clusters of white or pink flowers. These flowers produce trimethylamine, which attracts carrion insects for pollination, and to some people smells like decaying flesh or sexual fluids. The English poet Ted Hughes, (Sylvia Plath’s husband) wrote that the flowers have “a nauseous, sweet aniseed scent.” Others  like Proust apparently, find the scent heady, sensual, and intensely floral. The berries, called haws, look like tiny apples and range in color from red to orange to black, and ripen in September and October, dropping to the ground when perfectly ripe. Birds spread the seeds, causing our little tree to be viewed as invasive in some place. Hawthorn provides nectar, food, and shelter to insects, birds, and small mammals. Some moths and butterflies feed exclusively on the nectar and leaves, and cedar waxwings and thrushes rely on the haws that drop late in the season for winter sustenance. Commercial farming has removed much of its natural habitat.

While the ploughman near at hand

Whistles o’ver the furrow’d land,

And the milkmaid singeth blithe,

And the mower whets his scythe,

And every shepherd tells his tale

Under the hawthorn in the dale.

John Milton

The name ‘hawthorn’ comes to us from the Anglo-Saxon ‘haegthorn or ‘hagedorn’, meaning ‘hedge thorn’, referring to its long use as a hedge shrub planted along field boundaries. These hedges would have been places full of medicinal and magical plants and from this we get the term ‘hedge witch.’ The word ‘hag’ shares the same etymology as the word ‘witch’, and witches were once believed to “ride along hedges which were a visible line between this realm and the next.” ‘Hag’ is also cognate with ‘haegtesse’ and ‘hagzusa’. (Here I’ll direct you to Haw and Thorn’s in-depth blog post that covers the subject nicely.) Hawthorn is sometimes called ‘whitethorn’, which refers to the pale color of its bark in contrast to the darker bark of blackthorn. May Tree is the most commonly used folk name; hawthorn’s blossoms appear early in May, just in time for Beltane, but we’ll come to that later. Other names are bread and cheese, Bara Caws (Welsh for bread and cheese), hagthorn, mayflower, quickthorn, pixie’s pears, cuckoo’s beads, lady’s meat, may bush, tree of chastity, quickset, and chucky cheeses.

Hawthorn is first written about as a medicinal plant during the Middle Ages, although we know it was used by early Europeans, Native Americans, and the Chinese both medicinally and as a food source before this time. and ancient Romans may have used it as a general health tonic. Today, herbalists know hawthorn as a powerful heart medicine, for both physical and emotional heart healing. Leaves, berries and flowers are all harvested for medicine, and they function as a troporestorative (a nutritive restorative that works with a specific organ or organ system), with long-term therapeutic benefit to the heart and circulatory systems when taken for long periods. Hawthorn is also used to regulate blood pressure by both stimulating the coronary arteries and the heart muscle, and dilating and relaxing blood vessels, gently stimulating the heart muscle, and increasing pulse rate, taking pressure off the heart muscle and improving its efficiency. This helps relieve symptoms of stress, angina, chest tightness, as well as regulating irregular heartbeat and palpitations. Susan Weed notes that “consistent, long-term use of hawthorn is especially recommended for aging hearts, weak hearts, damaged hearts and those with hypertension, angina, arrhythmia, heart valve disease, or Reynaud’s disease.” And scientific studies bear the evidence out: The German Commission E, the scientific advisory board that evaluates safety and efficacy of traditional, folk and herbal medicines recommends hawthorn tea and/or tincture for numerous heart ailments.

To this, let’s add hawthorn’s ability to help heal emotionally. We know that heartbreak and grief do physically effect the heart, and herbalists have long known that hawthorn can subtly sooth and heal spiritually in tandem with physically strengthening the heart. In my own experience, hawthorn helps release blocked emotional energy, eases symptoms of stress, tempers anger, gently opens the heart , and promotes well-being. Hawthorn works slowly and deeply and with long-term positive effects with consistent use.

Across the shimmering meadows —

Ah, when he came to me!

In the spring-time,

In the night-time,

In the starlight,

Beneath the hawthorn tree.

Up from the misty marsh-land —

Ah, when he climbed to me!

To my white bower, 

To my sweet rest,

To my warm breast,

Beneath the hawthorn tree.

Ask of me what the birds sang,

High in the hawthorn tree;

What the breeze tells,

What the rose smells,

What the stars shine—

Not what he said to me!

Willa Cather

Hawthorn is the “quintessential English tree, entwined with myth and folklore of Britain,” and no other tree is more associated with the Fae than it. Faeries, wood sprites, dryads, and elementals were believed to reside in the tree, particularly any hawthorn that happened to stand on a lonely hilltop. Perhaps because hawthorns were grown as hedges, i.e. boundaries, to separate fields, they were considered a liminal space, doors between this world and the Otherworld. In Ireland, if you fell asleep under a hawthorn tree, you’d be whisked away to the faery underworld, and in Manx lore, they thought that you’d be granted wishes once in the realm of faery.

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Thought art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer’s lease hath all to short a date.

William Shakespeare

Sonnet 18

Earlier I wrote that hawthorn’s most common nick name is May Tree, and it’s early May blossoms weave close ties with Beltane celebrations. Young people would visit the forest on Beltane Eve, to “bring home the May,” decorating the outside of their homes with the blossoms, and probably enjoying a night of revelry and love making outdoors. On Beltane, a May Queen and a Green Man were chosen to represent the Goddess and God, and were adorned with hawthorn blossoms and greenery. Wreaths and garlands would be made of hawthorn, and there would be drinking, dancing, games, and singing and those who didn’t join in would be cursed with poor crops and misfortune in the coming year. It’s been written that the Beltane Maypole was hawthorn, but because the tree grows crooked and craggy, this may just be modern invention. Besides, so much lore about hawthorn trees says it is bad luck to cut the tree and to do so will bring about the ire of the Fae. A bit of modern lore says that when John DeLorean was building his car manufacturing factory in Ireland, he bulldozed a hawthorn tree that construction workers refused to remove for fear of angering faeries that might reside there. Many Irish people believed that this was the reason for his later troubles and the failure of his car company.

Hawthorn appears in Native American lore in a Chippewa tale that explains why the porcupine has quills. According to the story, a porcupine is hunted by a bear and he places thorny hawthorn branches on his back to protect him from the bear’s attack. When the bear comes to eat him, he is stabbed by the thorns and goes away. Nanabozho, a trickster god, sees how the thorns protect the porcupine, and he puts clay on the porcupine’s back and presses the thorns into the clay to protect him from attackers.

In the Celtic Ogham, the letter ‘H’ represents the hawthorn tree. Interpretations vary but druid author John Michael Greer says its upright meaning is “patience, reserve, retreat; a time of waiting and planning rather than action; obstacles and entanglements that can be overcome; success after a delay…” He gives the reversed letter Huath as “inappropriate action, rushing ahead when patience and planning are called for; a risk of failure…”

I’ll close out folklore with some bits I grabbed from various sources:

• Mixed message of fertility and chastity due to church influence

• Hawthorn trees frequently grow beside sacred springs and wells and are decorated with strips of fabric as gifts to the Fae or to ask for blessings

• In Serbia and Croatia it was used to protect against vampires

• In Ireland it was considered bad luck to bring it into the home

• Underworld connections to Hekate and Samhain

In witchcraft, hawthorn is used for protection, longevity, working with the Fae, communicating with spirits and ancestors. The association with matters of the heart is particularly strong for me, so love and sex magick is how I most often use Hawthorn. I find it to be most effective in matters of healing grief and releasing emotional patterns that no longer serve.

Catherine Yronwode of the Lucky Mojo Curio Company writes “hawthorn berries are protective, especially to Hearth and Home. A tea brewed from them can be sprinkled around the home to shield the premises from evil, or it may be drunk for personal protection.” She also notes that hawthorn berries can be used to “keep a woman from stealing your husband…”, advising that sprinkling them in her path will prevent her from entering your home with the intent to steal your man.

Hawthorn’s thorns are frequently used in protective magick. They can be used when working with poppets, and in witch bottles, and make a handy tool for inscribing candles. The leaves, flowers and berries can be ground and used to make protective incense.

If you work with the Fae, leaving offerings beneath hawthorn trees is a fine way to stay in their good graces. Just be sure that whatever you leave won’t harm any animals that come along and stay away from inorganic materials like plastic. Tying strips of fabric or ribbons made of natural materials, like cotton or linen, is an old way to ask the Fae for a blessing or healing. And finally, according to traditional custom, before taking leaves, flowers, or haws from the tree, you should ask the tree for permission. Only harvest what you can reasonably use, leaving enough flowers to produce berries, and enough berries to provide food to the many animals who rely on the tree to survive.

Hawthorn is generally considered under the influence of Mar, but also with Saturn because of its association with hedges and thereby liminal spaces. It is masculine and it’s element is fire. Hawthorn corresponds to the heart chakra. Deities associated with hawthorn are Cardea (the White Goddess), Flora, the Green Man, Aine, Brighid, and the Faery Queen.

Here are a selection of hawthorn recipes. As with any herbal remedy, please consult your doctor before ingesting.

Hawthorn Berry decoction - Haws are very tough once dried and require a long simmering time to benefit from their medicine. Use 1 oz of berries to 1 quart of water, and simmer 20 minutes. Sip 1/2 cup up to three times a day.

Hawthorn tincture - Fill a pint jar with dried leaves, flowers, and berries and cover with vodka, rum, or brandy. Shake well and keep in a cool place away from direct sunlight. After 4-6 weeks, strain and fill grass dropper bottles. Dosage is 30-40 drops up to 3 times a day. Can be taken in juice or water if you dislike the taste of tinctures.

Hawthorn tea - Simply pour boiling water over 2 tablespoons of flowers and leaves and let steep for 5 minutes. Can be sweetened with honey. You can also add hawthorn to other tea blends. It’s especially nice with oat straw, cardamom, and rose petals.

I also came across a delicious sounding recipe from www.nittygritttylife.com for Spiced Hawthorn and Rose Hip Mead. You can find that recipe here.

Works Cited - 

<Hughes, Ted (1977) Gaudete. Faber & Faber

<https://www.whitedragon.org.uk/articles/hawthorn.htm>.

<https://www.thehazeltree.co.uk/2015/04/25/hawthorn-bride-of-the-hedgerow/>.

<https://druidgarden.wordpress.com/2015/10/30/sacred-tree-profile-hawthorn-lore-medicine-magic-and-mystery/>.

<https://www.rte.ie/brainstorm/2020/0506/1136776-hawthorn-tree-ireland-folklore/>.

<http://cms.herbalgram.org/herbalgram/issue22/article463.html?ts=1600823201&signature=9c5c4405cc55a38464b2c54f31933751>.

<http://www.paghat.com/hawthornmyths.html>.

<https://sacredearth.com/2020/04/26/why-hawthorn-is-your-hearts-best-friend/>.

<http://www.gatheringground.nyc/new-blog-1/2017/10/13/hawthorn-fierce-gentle-protectress-of-the-heart>.

<http://wildfoodsandmedicines.com/hawthorn/>.

<http://www.susunweed.com/herbal_ezine/November08/healingwise.htm>.

<http://www.herbmagic.com/hawthorn-berries.html>. (From Catherine Yronwode)

<https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2014/nov/12/country-diary-windmill-hill-hawthorn-moots-magic-secrets>.

Notable Dates in Witchcraft - October 2020

While by no means exhaustive, here’s a look at October dates that are significant for pagans from around the world. If you’d like to suggest a date I have missed, please let me know. If you’d like more notable dates, holy days and feasts, I recommend shirleytwofeathers.com and hellion.org

10/01 - Full Moon (Hunter’s Moon, Blood Moon, Harvest Moon, Dying Grass Moon)

10/01 - Festival of Chang’e (Chinese) (also Moon Festival)

10/01 - Festival of Fides (Roman)

10/04 - Feast day of Orunmila/Orula (Yoruba, Cuban Santeria, Haitian Vodou)

10/04 - Feast day of St. Frances of Assisi

10/06 - Day of Bad Omens

10/09 - Festival of Fausta Felicitas (Roman)

10/12 - Birthdate of Aleister Crowley 1875

10/13 - Mercury Retrograde begins

10/16 - New/Dark Moon

10/17 - Deipnon of Hekate (Hellenic)

10/18 - Noumenia (Hellenic)

10/19 - Agathos Daimon (Hellenic)

10/25 - Feast day of Erinle (Yoruba, Cuban Santeria, Haitian Vodou)

10/28 Celtic Tree Month Reed begins

10/29-31 Vetrnaetr/Winternights (Norse/Heathen)

10/31 - Samhain (Celtic)

10/31 Blue Moon (2nd full moon of October)

10/31 - Beltane (Southern Hemisphere)

Essential Herbs, Resins, and Botanicals for the Witch's Apothecary (part 1 - Yarrow)

Common yarrow achillea millefolium

Devil’s nettle, thousand leaf, herbe militaris, old man’s pepper, devil’s plaything, nose bleed, old man’s mustard, green arrow, squirrel’s tail, staunchweed, sanguinary; yarrow has many nicknames which is fitting for this herb with a dual nature and a history of use that dates back 60,000 years.

In the Asteraceae family that includes chamomile, daisies, marigolds, calendula, and thistles, yarrow has dome shaped clusters of small flowers with feathery, fernlike foliage. Wild yarrow’s flowers are generally white, but they can also be pink or yellow, especially cultivars. The plant can reach 3 feet and is drought resistant, likes poor soil, plenty of sunlight, and grows throughout North America and Europe. Yarrow flowers from April to September. It has two look alikes; Queen Anne’s lace and the deadly water hemlock.

The common name yarrow comes to us from the Anglo-Saxons who called it gaerwe, and it’s Latin name, achillea millefolium comes from the Greek myth that Achilles was taught by the centaur Chiron to staunch bleeding wounds with yarrow. But long before the Anglo-Saxons were wearing yarrow amulets to protect from blindness, dog bites, and robberies, and Achilles was healing wounded soldiers with it, Neanderthal peoples were using yarrow, likely medicinally, based on analysis of pollens found at El Sidron Spain and Shanidar Iraq. According to the lead researcher at the Shanidar burial site, the man buried there “was not only a very important man, a leader, but also may have been a kind of medicine man or shaman in his group.” The man was evidently ritually laid on a bed of flowers with medicinal qualities that included yarrow, and illustrate that Neanderthals “had a sophisticated knowledge of their natural surroundings, and were able to recognize both the nutritional and the medicinal value of certain plants”, according to another researcher at the site.

Prior to the 15th century, ale was flavored with herbs rather than hops, and yarrow was a common addition. Because of yarrow’s thujone content, these ales may have been psychotropic. Nicholas Culpeper wrote “an ointment of the leaves cures wounds, and is good for inflammations, ulcers, fistulas, and all such runnings as amount with moisture.” Some Native American tribes, including the Shoshone and Paiute, used yarrow as a topical wound healer, to treat saddle sores on horses, for fever, earaches, toothaches, and headaches. Herbalist still use yarrow to treat fevers and headaches and it can help lower blood pressure.

Let’s get to the magical aspects of yarrow. Many of its nicknames refer to the Devil, (Old Man’s Mustard, Devil’s Plaything, Devil’s Nettle) and some folklore says it’s good for both summoning and banishing the Devil and evil spirits. And although it is classified as a Venusian herb, I associate it with the Underworld and with Saturn, too. Harold Roth calls it “tail of the werewolf” and conjectures that its original magical use may be forgotten and that it was once an herb for shapeshifting. It does have a dual nature of hot/cold and dry/wet, so maybe its use as a love herb and herb for the Devil fits. I found one uncredited bit of lore that said that Satan used to walk through villages at night, shaking yarrow at the homes of those he wished to curse. No mention of where or when this occurred. Less enchanting, it does have a funky smell, so the devilish monikers may refer to that.

Most often classified as Venus-ruled, with water as its element, and feminine, yarrow shows up in lots of love magic. In Alexander Carmichael’s Carmina Gadelica Vol. 2, a compendium of Scottish history and lore published in 1900, this love incantation is included:

The Yarrow

I will pluck the yarrow fair,
That more benign shall be my face,
That more warm shall be my lips,
That more chaste shall be my speech,
Be my speech the beams of the sun,
Be my lips the sap of the strawberry.

May I be an isle in the sea,
May I be a hill on the shore,
May I be a star in waning of the moon,
May I be a staff to the weak,
Wound can I every man,
Wound can no man me.

Early Romans called it Venus’ Eyebrows, the most adorable name for a plant I’ve ever heard. It was also used in medieval wedding bouquets and hung over beds to ensure seven years of marriage, and was sometimes called Seven Days Love. In Mrs. Grieve’s A Modern Herbal, she shares a charm for a vision of a future husband or wife:

“An ounce of Yarrow sewed up in a flannel and placed under the pillow before going to bed, having repeated the following words, brought a vision of the future husband or wife:”

‘Thou pretty herb of Venus’ tree,

Thy true name it is Yarrow;

Now who my bosom friend must be,

Pray tell thou me to-morrow’

It’s used in protection and boundary spells too. Those yarrow-amulet wearing Saxons I mentioned earlier also carried it to allay fear and to gain courage. Hung over doorways and strewn about floors, it was said to protect a home’s inhabitants and burning it was said to banish evil spirits.

But yarrow is probably best known as a divination herb. Druids may have used it to divine weather, and in the I Ching, its stalks are used still to divine. In folklore from the Hebrides, holding a leaf to one’s eyes was said to give the second sight and also to see the Fae. Elsewhere, to dream of it after harvesting meant that good news was on the way. I found this sweet love divination charm over on plant-lore.com:

“In Ulster a girl would pick nine yarrow leaves on May Eve, while reciting:
Yarrow for yarrow, if yarrow you be
By this time tomorrow
My true love to see
The colour of his hair
The clothes he does wear
The first words he will speak
When he comes to court me,
and then place the leaves under her pillow, before dreaming of her future husband.”

I like to use yarrow with mugwort. Here’s a recipe for a tea to sharpen your divination skills. Use it before you read tarot, scry, throw runes or any other kind of divination you do.

1 tsp dried mugwort (or 2 tsp fresh)

1 tsp yarrow (or 2 tsp fresh)

Pinch of lavender

In a tea pot, pour one cup of boiling water over herbs. Let steep for 4-5 minutes and strain. Both mugwort and yarrow are bitter, so sweeten with honey if desired.

CAUTIONS - Pregnant women should not consume yarrow. If you are allergic to plants in the Asteraceae family, do not consume yarrow. If using on skin, test in a small inconspicuous spot first. Yarrow is toxic to cats and dogs.

Mugwort - Notes from a coven presentation

As the herbalist for my coven, I often teach both magickal and medicinal herbal classes. Last year at our October coven meeting, I gave this presentation on Mugwort, covering practical information as well as folklore, historical information and witchcraft uses. Normally, I’d provide sources, but I’ve misplaced the notes for this class, so I hope it will suffice to say that I drew from many sources.

Latin name - Artemisia vulgaris

Other names for Mugwort: Cronewort, common wormwood wild wormwood, felon herb, St. John’s plant, chrysanthemum weed, sailor’s tobacco, moxa, Artemis herb, Naughty Man, Old Man, Old Uncle Henry, Muggons.

Often confused with Wormwood Artemisia absinthium. Mugwort leaves are green above and white underneath, with pointed tips and purplish stems. True Wormwood leaves are silvery, top and bottom.

Mugwort in Nature and the Garden

Mugwort is a member of the daisy family (Asteracea) with characteristic disk flowers in panicles, (a panicle is a flower made up of many small flowers in groups, several off the same stem) very small reddish or greenish yellow. Unlike other members of the family Asteracea, mugwort’s flowers and those of its other close Artemesia relatives, are not very showy, but do give off a great deal of pollen.

Mugwort can grow from three to six feet tall on an erect purplish stem. The leaves are feathery, grayish green with silvervy fuzz on the underside and are deeply pinnately lobed. It grows in a bush-like habit.

Mugwort blooms from July to September. It is native to Europe and Asia, but has naturalized through much of the world. Mugwort enjoys weedy areas and waste places where the soil has been disturbed with plenty of sunlight.

Mugwort is very hardy though it prefers nitrogenous soil and lots of sun. It vigorously spreads by an underground root system. Do not overwater mugwort. It is drought tolerant but does not like its feet wet. Planting in a pot will prevent it from spreading.

Harvesting and Preserving Mugwort

Harvest mugwort shortly before it flowers and hang upside down, away from sun, to dry. Collect the root in autumn. I have an herb drying rack that I hang my mugwort on, so any place where air can circulate is fine. I do not recommend drying mugwort (or most other herbs) in a dehydrator or oven, because both methods tend to over-dry, causing the plants to turn brown or grey, and lose most of their scent.

Uses Around the House

-Dried mugwort added to a fire will help keep it smoldering for a long time. The stalks make good kindling.

-The long stems make nice wreathes and garlands

-An infusion is a good all-purpose cleaner and insect repellent.

In the Kitchen

Mugwort has a bitter taste. It was used in medieval cooking to season fish and meat, especially game, and is a traditionally used herb for Christmas goose in Germany. It is also used to flavor rice cakes in Asia.

Before hops was used in beer, mugwort was used for its crucial bitter note and to help keep the beer fresh. For this purpose, it should be gathered before it flowers and dried before use. 

Mugwort is a topical anesthetic with antibacterial and anti-fungal properties.

Fresh crushed mugwort leaves applied to the skink relieves burning, itching and pain, and with continued use, can help get rid of warts.

It is also said that coating your skin with mugwort juice before exposure to poison oak will prevent a rash.

It is said that chewing fresh mugwort leaves will help relieve fatigue and clear the mind. A decoration of the roots was also used for this purpose. 

An infusion of fresh leaves can be used for chronic stomach complaints and to stimulate the appetite.

Mugwort has traditionally been used in Europe to induce abortion. It strengthens contractions and is used in a compress to promote labor and help expel the afterbirth. It is also used to help regulate the menstrual cycle and ease painful menstruation and the onset of menopause. Use with ginger in a tea to soothe a difficult menstruation.

It is used in traditional Chinese and Japanese medicine to make Moxas to cure rheumatism and to correct fetal position prior to delivery. The fluff is carefully removed and rolled into a cylinder which is heated and placed near pressure points to relieve pain. 

Mugwort has been used for entries for mental disorders and epilepsy, as it has mild sedative and antispasmodic properties.

An infusion of the dried leaves and flowers helps expel pin worms.

Mix dried leaves with honey and apply to bruises to fade them.

Infusion - 1 oz dried herb to 1 pint boiling water for 5-10 minutes. Steeping too long will make infusion extremely bitter.

Tincture - Cover dried herb with alcohol and keep in a dark place for 2-6 weeks, shaking occasionally.

Do no continue use of mugwort for longer than one week, breaking for 2 weeks between, to avoid system build up of thujone.

Mugwort and Magic

All varieties of Artemisia are sacred to the goddess Artemis, who give comfort (or death) to women in labor. Also, Diana through association and Hecate, patron of herbalists and midwives. Mugwort is also associated with the moon which in turn is associated with the cycles of womanhood.

Mugwort is feminine, associated with the element of earth, and Venus and/or the Moon and is ruled by either Taurus or Libra.

Mugwort can be used as a sacred smoking herb or burned as a fumigant for protection or divination. It can be mixed with other herbs to smoke in a ritual context and is said to enhance astral projection, lucid dreaming and other altered states of consciousness. Keeping mugwort under your pillow or in your bedroom may encourage prophetic dreams. 

Burning or smoking mugwort is another way to utilize its conscious-altering affects. Burn in an incense burner to aid divination.

A cup of mugwort tea before bed can encourage lucid dreaming. 

It’s also used in protective pouches, especially those related to travel. It is said to prevent delays, and other annoyances related to travel, as well as to protect the traveler from accidents, thieves and other traveling mishaps.

Mugwort stems can be used as impromptu wands.

An herbal wash can be used to clean ritual tools, especially those used in divination.

Hanging mugwort over or on a door will keep unwelcome energies from passing through.

A garland or a girdle of mugwort can be worn while dancing around the midsummer bale fire and thrown into the fire at the end of the night to ensure protection throughout the year.

Mugwort in History and Folklore

The name “mugwort” is said to come from the plant’s traditional use of flavoring beverages. It may have also come from an old word meaning “moth,” alluding to its usefulness at keeping away pests. Another possible etymology is from Old Norse muggi, meaning marsh. 

Wort is an old term for “plant,” especially one of a useful nature.

Roman soldiers put mugwort in their sandals to keep their feet from getting tired.

In Holland and Germany the plant was considered sacred to John the Baptist who presumably wore a girdle of mugwort. The plant is gathered on St. John’s Eve, made into a crown and worn to protect from possession, disease and general misfortune.

Poultry and grazing animals enjoy this plant, and it may be the same Artemisia of Pontos lauded by the ancients as excellent for fattening livestock.

In Wales, mugwort was tied to the left thigh of a woman having a difficult labor. But it was believed that if it was not removed immediately after the birth, she might hemorrhage.

In European folklore, it was said to protect against poison.

It is mentioned in the Nine Herbs Charm, a 10th century English rhyme in the Lacnunga, an Anglo-Saxon medicinal text. The charm is intended for the treatment of poisoning and infection. The numbers nine and three, significant in Germanin paganism and folklore are mentioned frequently in the charm. The poem contains both Christian and English pagan themes, including a mention of the Germanic god Woden. 

“Remember, Mugwort, what you made known,

What you arranged at Regenmeld.

You were called Una, the oldest of the herbs,

You have power against three and against thirty,

You have power against poison and against infection,

You have power against the loathsome foe 

Roving through the land.

And you, waybread, mother of herbs,

Open from the east, mighty inside.

Over you chariots creaked,

Over you queens rode,

Over you brides cried out,

Over you bulls snorted.

You withstood all of them,

You dashed against them.

May you likewise withstand poison and infection

And the loathsome foe roving through the land

‘Stune’ is the name of this herb,

It grew on a stone,

It stands up against poison, 

It dashes against poison,

It drives out the hostile one,

It casts out the poison.

This is the herb that fought again the snake,

It has power against poison,

It has power against infection

It has power against the loathsome foe

Roving through the land.

Now, atterlothe, put to flight now,

Venom-leather, the greater poisons,

Though you are the lesser,

You the mightier, conquer the lesser poisons,

Until he is cured of both.

Remember mayth, what you made known,

What you accomplished as Alorford,

That never a man should lose his life from infection

After maythe was prepared for his food.

This is the herb that is called ‘Wergulu’.

A seal sent it across the sea-right,

A vexation to poison, a help to others.

It stands against pain,

It dashes against poison,

It has power against three and against thirty,

Against the hand of a fiend and against mighty devices,

Against the spell of mean creatures.

There the Apple accomplished it against poison

That she [the loathsome spirit] would never

Dwell in the house.

Chervil and Fennel,

Two very mighty one.

They were created by the wise Lord,

Holy in heaven as He hung;

He set and sent them to the seven worlds,

To the wretched and the fortunate,

As a help to all.

These nine have power against nine poisons.

A worm came crawling,

It killed nothing.

For Woden took nine glory-twigs,

He smote the adder that it flew apart

Into nine parts.

Now these nine herbs have power

Against nine evil spirits,

Against nine poisons and 

Against nine infections.

Against the red poison,

Against the foul poison.

Against the yellow poison,

Against the green poison,

Against the black poison,

Against the blue poison,

Against the brown poison, 

Against the crimson poison.

Against worm-blister,

Against water-blister,

Against thorn-blister,

Against thistle-blister,

Against ice-blister,

Against poison-blister.

Against harmfulness of the air,

Against harmfulness of the ground,

Against harmfulness of the sea.

If any poison comes flying from the east,

Or any from the north,

Or any from the south,

Or any from the west among people,

Woden stood over disease of every kind.

I alone know a running stream,

And the nine adders beware of it.

May all the weeds spring up as herbs

From their roots,

The seas slip apart,

All salt water,

When I blow this poison from your.

Mugwort, waybread open from the east,

Lamb’s cress, atterlothe, maythe, nettle,

Crab-apple, chervil and fennel, old soap;

Pound the herbs to a powder, 

Mix them with the soap

And the juice of the apple.

Then prepare a pasted of water and of ashes,

Take fennel, boil it with the paste

And wash it with a beaten egg

When you apply the salve,

Both before and after.

Sing this charm three times on each of 

The herbs before you prepare them,

And likewise on the apple.

And sing the same charm 

Into the mouth of the man

And into both his ears, 

And on wound,

Before you apply the salve.”

Additional Notes and Warnings

Judika Illes mentions mugwort in her 5000 Spells as a protection for books against vermin, suggesting that the dried leaves be placed between the pages. She also includes mugwort as a protector of animals, saying to hang it in the doorway of barns to prevent evil spirits from attacking farm animals.

Mugwort is considered a noxious week in parts of the United States. Check with your State’s laws before planting.

Pregnant women should avoid mugwort without consulting a physician first. It can be passed through mother’s milk, so should be avoided by lactating women.

Mugwort should not be used for more than one week continuously. Continued use can cause liver damage and convulsions, due to its high thujone levels.

Mugwort flowers can trigger allergies in some.

Fire Cider (A Recipe to Share)

I’ve been making fire cider for my family and friends for years, so it seemed a natural fit to brand my version and sell it alongside other Prairie Fire herbal products. People seem to like our version and find that it helps fight cold and flu symptoms, inflammation, sinus congestion, and aids digestion. And while I make no medical claims, fire cider is a proven antiviral and antibacterial tonic, which is timely during this COVID-19 pandemic. I take it twice daily, everyday, and I seldom get sick. When I do feel a cold or flu coming on, I double up on my dose and symptoms don’t stick around very long.

I’ve decided to share our recipe for those who can’t purchase from us or other fire cider makers at this time. It’s the right thing to do and we don’t lose anything by sharing our knowledge and experiences.

My recipe is a variation of Rosemary Gladstar’s fire cider recipe. If you don’t already know who she is, do look up the doyenne of folk herbalism in this country for decades. She, along with a group of women who make and sell fire cider, recently won a landmark Supreme Court decision against a company who tried to trademark the term “fire cider.” Sometimes the good people do win.

Fire cider is generally aged for at least a month so the raw apple cider vinegar has ample time to extract all of the good stuff from the herbs and vegetables in the mix. We age ours for 6 months to get a really powerful extraction, but it can be made in less. To do that, you’ll want to chop all of your ingredients into very small bits and shake the whole concoction up at least once a day. In two weeks time, you’ll have a very respectable version of your own fire cider. Make plenty when you do make it. It’s an acquired taste, but it’s powerful medicine. If like my son, you find that you can’t handle drinking straight shots of your fire cider, mix it with some juice, water, in a vinaigrette, in soups and stews, or like me on occasion, make a killer Bloody Mary.

• 1/2 cup grated fresh horseradish (the stuff in jars isn’t what you want. I add extra, love it!)

• 1 cup finely chopped fresh onion (white, yellow or purple are all fine)

• 1/4 cup chopped garlic

• 1/4 cup grated ginger (leave the peel on, it’s easier!)

• 2 lemons, juiced

• fresh or dried hot chilies to taste (cayenne, habanero, jalapeño, anything spicy!)

• extras hibiscus flowers, parsley, turmeric, thyme, rosemary, black pepper, echinacea, ashwaganda, tulsi tea leaves, cinnamon, etc. I add a variety of these every time I make it.)

• 1 quart raw apple cider vinegar (or enough to cover your herbs and veg by 3-4 inches)

• raw honey to taste (we use local honey for it’s allergy fighting super powers)

So chop everything up into small pieces, throw it all into a quart sized jar, and cover with the apple cider vinegar. Put the lid on, shake it like crazy, and put it some place dark at room temperature. Shake it everyday. Strain after two weeks or wait the full four weeks if you like. Add your raw honey to taste, stir it really well to dissolve the honey and store it in a clean jar or bottle with a lid. We put ours in the fridge, but it’s fine at room temperature for ages too.

Take it everyday! We have a shot at breakfast and a shot after dinner. I sneak it in wherever I can too. Make extra and give it to friends.

Homemade Gin

A couple of weeks ago, I was brainstorming Yule gift ideas for Ceci and knew I wanted to give a handmade gift. I also knew that Ceci is a gin drinker, so after sneakily peppering her with gin preference questions, I came up with a blend that I think she’ll like. With plenty of juniper berry, bitter orange, grapefruit and cardamom, this will pair nicely with just about anything Ceci likes to mix with gin.

“Homemade” gin is a bit of a misnomer here. I didn’t distill any alcohol, but instead infused a mid-range vodka with herbs and botanicals. I chose Monopolowa, a potato vodka from Poland, because of its clean dryish flavor with mineral notes. It’s also a favorite of mine for making vodka martinis. Here’s what I used for Ceci’s Blend:

• 1 quart mid-range vodka of your choice (I used Monopolowa)

• 1 tbsp dried juniper berries (fresh are fine too)

• 1 tbsp dried coriander

• 2 1-inch strips of bitter orange peel (a regular orange is fine)

• 2 1-inch strips of grapefruit peel

• 2 tbsp dried organic rose petals

• 2 inch piece of cinnamon stick

• 1 tsp peppercorns

• 1 bay leaf

• 2 tsp cardamom pods

Place all ingredients in a quart jar, seal tightly and give it a good shake. Put it in a dark cool space to infuse. Infusion times will vary according to flavor preference, so sample your concoction after 8 hours. If you like it, strain off the herbs and botanicals and make yourself a gin and tonic. If you’d like it a little longer, you can infuse for up to 36 hours, but taste it periodically since some botanicals become bitter when infused too long.

Other things you can add to your gin:

• ginger

• lemon peel

• lemongrass

• sage

• allspice

• cucumber

• chamomile

• lavender (go easy unless you like your gin to taste like elderly Victorian ladies)

• fennel

• rosemary

Infusing times for botanicals varies from 8 to 36 hours, and I chose an 8 hour infusion, since some of the herbs I included are strong flavored and I didn’t want to create something undrinkable.

Elderberry Lore (and a recipe for elderberry syrup)

Elderberries have long been used in folk herbalism but recent medical evidence is just catching up to all of the benefits of the little black berry. Around 400 BCE, Hippocrates called the elder tree (Sambucus nigra) his “medicine chest” and we have evidence of the berry’s use as a remedy all the way back to the Neolithic age. Packed with phenols and plant pigments, elderberries have been proven to boost immunity, lessen inflammation, and prohibit growth of Streptoccus bacteria, and human pathogenic influenza virus.

Known for its fragrant white flowers and deep purple-black berries, the elder tree is steeped in folklore. Anglo Saxons believed that a goddess resided within the tree. Early Danes called the tree Elder Mother or Hylde Moer and hung its leaves over doorways to protect from evil spirits. To cut an elderberry tree without permission from the spirit of the tree was to court bad luck.

Like so many other folk practices, Christianity assigned evil association to the use of the elder tree. Medieval Christians believed that the cross that Jesus was hung from was made of elder; an unlikely bit of lore since elder tree wood is very light and weak in structure.

Gaelic Scots called the tree droman, tramman, or ruis. Ruis, the 13th rune in the Ogham alphabet, is represented by the elder. In the Celtic Tree calendar, November 25th begins the month of Ruis, the 13th lunar month of the year, and it is associated with death, the spirit world, and the dark of the winter months. Scottish tradition says that if you stand under the elder tree at Samhain, you’ll see the Faery King. Another Scottish bit of lore says that rubbing the juice of the tree’s wood into your eyes would allow you to see witches and faeries, although I wouldn’t suggest it.

On the Isle of Man, in a folktale called “Old Nance and the Buggane,” our tree gets another mention:

“There once was an old woman living at Laxey, and her name was Nance Corlett. Clean and neat, her house was, with the

thatch all trim and trig against the winter storms, the tramman tree by the door, to keep of witches, and the little red cocks

and hens wandering in and out of the open door. There wasn’t a word going a-speaking against Old Nance, in all the island.”

Take this bit with a grain of salt, since our sources on Druidic practice are scant at best. According to some non-scholarly sources, the ancient Druids believed that the tree housed the spirit of the White Goddess who was the Guardian of the Underworld, giving our tree deathly connotations. Funereal flints and carvings representing the elder tree have been unearthed in Neolithic long barrows in the United Kingdom, so there is some evidence that the tree was tied to funerary rites.

With cold and flu season gearing up, we’re already taking our daily shot of elderberry syrup, along with fire cider to stave off the nasties. We also make a tasty Elderberry Spice Tea if you’re a tea-lover. Here’s our syrup recipe to share with you.

elderberry syrup

2 cups dried organic elderberries

4 cups water

1 inch piece of fresh ginger root, chopped (you can leave the peel on)

4-5 cardamom pods (use 1 teaspoon powered cardamom if you don’t have pods)

1 vanilla bean, split and scraped

1 stick of cinnamon (use 1 tablespoon of powered if you don’t have sticks)

1 cup raw local honey (or maple syrup if you’re vegan)

1 cup vodka or brandy

1. Combine berries, herbs and vanilla bean in a pot and bring to a boil.

2. Reduce heat and simmer 30 to 40 minutes.

3. Remove from heat and let cool.

4. Strain berries and herbs using cheesecloth.

5. Add honey and vodka or brandy and stir to incorporate.

6. Pour into clean bottle.