My years are punctuated by seasonal harvests.  These moments, scratting around in hedges, rummaging in the undergrowth and ponds are always some of the most peaceful and meaningful experiences which I treasure.  Throughout each year my eyes scan the hedges and woods, roadsides and fields and of course my garden and other people’s gardens.  I hold in my head a series of mental maps of the area I live in, of what grows where, and at what time of year I need to harvest those particular plants or tree barks. 

As each season approaches, my senses are sharpened to look for particular plants, and I will sometimes stop to check on the growth of specific plants.  It if is tall and healthy enough, I will harvest a few stems, if not I’ll leave it a few more weeks and return at a later date.   I drive around the lanes where I live, with plant names circling my mind, reminding myself of something I may have forgotten and sometimes I’ll discover a new habitat to harvest from and new plants to try.  This will be included into my mind maps.

I love the thrill of spotting something growing I have not noticed before.  If it is in someone’s garden, I will go and knock on their door, start a conversation about who I am and what I do, it will often lead to an invite to harvest from their garden. 

When it comes to the actual harvesting, I aim to do this with utmost care.  I keep in mind Robin Wall Kimmerers’ concept of reciprocity with the land and plants.  Our responsibility as humans to care for the plants, to take what we need, but no more. To tread lightly on the earth, and to protect and give back where we can.

There is a general rule of thumb with wild food foragers to only take a 3rd of what you are harvesting.  For my purposes this often feels like quite a substantial amount, so I am guided by my intuition. If it feels like enough, then it probably is.  I try to place my feet carefully, I try not to disturb the brambles and nettles which want me to keep off their patch.  I am quiet and peaceful, stand for a while to let the birds and animals get used to my presence.   If I can I will spread some seeds, or plant a cut stick of willow to show my respect and gratitude.

Some of the plants I harvest in the summer can be used as they are; yellow flag iris, cats tails, sedges, English rush, soft rush, crocosmia.  Others such as nettle, rosebay willow herb, hemp agrimony and all the tree barks, need some level of processing to produce fibres which can be woven with. 

As a rule, all plants, whether used as they are or processed in some way, must be fully dried before you can use them. Once fully dried, each plant will need varying degrees of hydration to make them pliable enough to weave with.

I run a course in July called Focus on Fibres, which aims to give you 3 days immersion into this world of harvesting, storing and preparing plant fibres for weaving. Each plant has its own characteristics, texture, colour tones and smell.  Each fibre will need to be handled slightly differently, using varying degrees of tension or twist to achieve its best qualities when weaving.   The course is gloriously experimental, usually run from my garden in the company of likeminded people, with a little harvesting excursion as part of the experience.  

I could talk about harvesting for hours, so I will come back to it in another article, with further tales of Spring and Winter Harvests.