by Charlene L. Briggs
Earth Visions Consulting
“In some Native languages the term for plants translates to “those who take care of us.”
― Robin Wall Kimmerer, Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge and the Teachings of Plants
On my herb walks I ask people for their definition of a weed and besides “something unwanted” occasionally someone will quote Ralph Waldo Emmerson’s “a plant whose virtues have yet to be discovered.”
In Emmerson’s 1878 Fortune of the Republic speech, he lauded: “The interest other nations took in our war was exacerbated by the importance of the cotton trade. And what is cotton? One plant out of some 200,000 known to the botanist, vastly the larger part of which are reckoned weeds. What is a weed? A plant whose virtues have yet to be discovered, – every one of the 200,000 probably yet to be of utility in the arts.”
A bowl of chickweed pesto
Had our ancestors not discovered the virtues of the plants we call weeds and had they not employed the creativity and courage to experiment and refine those relationships into herbal traditions, neither Emmerson nor we would be alive to consider the value of these plant allies.
That nature is seen as a commodity, a resource laying in wait ready to be used, apart from us rather than a part of us, is the core of the ecological crisis. Putting Emmerson’s definition of a weed into an ecological context, a weed is a plant whose virtues have long since been forgotten.
Foraging is about remembering botanical traditions and developing relationships with the plants who take care of us. All our ancestors foraged. That innate affinity for relationship with nature is in our blood.
When I talk about foraging, I am speaking about ethical foraging which is an act of reciprocity ~ taking only what we need and what is freely given after we ask and leaving the grandmother plants. We are not the only organisms who forage. Many weeds are part of food webs that serve ecosystems from soil microbes, insects, birds, bees, butterflies, small and large mammals to all biotic and abiotic web-mates.
Approximately 80% of the world population still turns to plants as their primary mode of healing, mostly in the developing nations. Many herbalists, scientists and ethnobotanists are working on rekindling and relinking those broken chains of wisdom, information and experience in the developed world.
I grew up foraging with my father who was a naturalist. I am a soil scientist, ecologist and educator and my foraging walks are empirical and experiential. For me, herbal wisdom is an endless journey whether seeking obscure plants in the landscape with my naturalist husband, processing plants in my herbarium or researching ancient botanical traditions in old book stock.
A bowl full of dandelion cakes
So, who is growing in your landscape? We all know the ephemeral Dandelion, Taraxacum officinale, in the Asteraceae family, with leaves that help tone our kidneys, roots with the prebiotic inulin to feed the probiotics in our digestive tract and compounds that help tone our livers and blooms that help soothe symptoms of a cold.
As for food, the dried roasted roots are touted as a coffee substitute (by non-coffee drinkers). I make a decoction from dried dandelion and burdock root for digestive health.
Dandelion leaves and yellow flower petals make a delicious addition to a summer salad. In her Country Herbal, Lesley Gordon reports that in the early 20th century, at dandelion time in the spring before the flowers popped, park commissioners throughout the US would take down their KEEP OFF THE GRASS signs and “turn the salad-loving Italians loose to improve the public lawns by freeing them of the dandelions.”
In 1968, my father and I gathered a flock of children in town to collect dandelion flowers for a batch of dandelion wine. Those were the days when children could safely forage dandelions in the landscape without the risk of pesticide poisoning.
When my father passed away in 2019, I found a case of dandelion wine under the basement steps. I uncorked a bottle and poured my foraging father, mother and myself a glass, toasted them both, took a palatable sip or two and ceremoniously returned the rest to the land.
Violets, Viola sororia, Viola odorata, Viola tricolor, in the Violaceae family, are beautiful harbingers of spring and have been cultivated for over 2000 years reportedly healing everything from cancer to psoriasis to pain. They were used by the Romans to cure headaches. Hahnemann, father of homeopathy, recommended V. tricolor, pansy, as a treatment for skin conditions and laxative for children. In old England, violet syrup was an important part of the pharmacy stock.
Violet syrup is delicious on anything vanilla and making this beautiful purple confection is part of my spring ritual. It keeps well in the refrigerator and brings a bit of spring into the winter months. Violets are an important larval food source for the great spangled fritillary butterfly, so I make sure to leave plenty in the landscape.
Violet leaves are another nutritious and tasty addition to spring salads and their mucilaginous nature bulks up soups as a cornstarch replacement.
Caution: Buttercups (Ranunculus spp.) share the landscape with violets, so harvesting violets even for an experienced picker, warrants foraging only when in bloom to avoid toxic buttercups.
On that note, foraging has become very popular and with that comes a plethora of AI generated books and online sources. Before foraging, it is critical to learn enough botany for accurate plant identification, including identification of the poisonous plants in your region. A list of seasoned authors can be found on my website and their websites have reputable sources.
I have been poisoned twice on this journey. Once from tainted herbs (know your source and buy only organic and preferably local herbs) and once from homemade ice cream (know what part of the plant is safe, what part is toxic/poisonous and know your chef).
One of my favorite weeds is stinging nettle, Urtica dioica, in the Urticaceae family, who boasts a long history of relationship with humans dating back to the Romans who used nettles preserved in oil to stimulate circulation, which they found particularly useful while visiting their neighbors in colder climates. The process of urtification, deliberate application of nettle leaves on the skin, is still used today for relief from arthritis.
The stings are from acetylcholine, histamine and oxalic acid and will diminish with drying or cooking. The sting is a toxic soup that resides in structures called trichomes, pointy little hypodermic needles along the stem and underside of the leaves. The older the plant, the harder the trichomes and some herbalists believe there is a possibility of them getting stuck in important places like kidneys if ingested. Early in the season before flowering I harvest leaves from the first two nodes.
A bowl of nettle soup
Nettle has a history of being used as a spring tonic and for relief from spring allergy symptoms. Nettles are loaded with vitamins and minerals and the young leaves can be added to stews and soups and made into a mineral rich vinegar. Nettle porridge was a common dish in England in the 17th Century and today we enjoy nettle soup, pesto and hummus.
There are many ways to be in relationship with plants as medicine; infusions, decoctions, tinctures, oils, salves, poultices, compresses, essential oils and flower essences, to name a few. Harvesting, drying, storing and concocting various parts of plants for food and medicine requires expertise, preferably gleaned under the guidance of an experienced herbalist. On my website, you will find my teacher’s websites, recommended books and reference material on the science and art of herbalism.
To reiterate Robin Wall Kimmerer’s message from Indigenous elders, “In some Native languages the term for plants translates to “those who take care of us.” Rather than considering weeds as unwanted plants or plants with unknown value, perhaps we can begin to see them as connections to our ancestors who understood and honored relationships with them.
Outside my herbarium is a foraging garden, a dedicated space where purslane, chickweed, dandelion, burdock, yellow dock, cleavers, plantain, violets… grow intentionally and minimally tended. My remedies are just outside the door.
Meals and Medicines from the Landscape is about foraging weeds. It is about making room for the others with whom we share the landscape. It is about recognizing that these weeds are food and medicine for us and others in the ecosystem. It is about recognizing that just because we don’t know the value of a plant does not mean there isn’t one. Ultimately, foraging is about honoring ancient botanical traditions and an ancestral calling to live in partnership with nature.
The author in her garden
Charlene Briggs is a soil scientist, educator and former professor of Sustainable Community Design and Botanical Traditions in the LA/HORT Department at Temple University.
With certificates in Herbal Medicine and Ethical Foraging from the Chestnut School of Herbal Medicine and The Science and Art of Herbalism from Rosemary Gladstar, Charlene has a life-long relationship and practice with herbs as food and medicine.
Her clinical practice is Botanical Energetics, where she helps others heal from trauma, anxiety and depression as a flower essence practitioner. Charlene is on the International Register of Bach Flower Practitioners and trained in Bach, North American and Alaskan essences.
For more information on her work visit Earth Visions Consulting
