By Jane Valencia
Author’s Note: For plant safety basics when foraging, read “Herbs With Kids – Plant Safety Basics and a Few Summertime Remedies” – published August 2023 and available on vashonloop.com
With the rain, cold, mud, and leafless trees, winter seems a bleak landscape for herbal adventure. But nature never leaves us bereft. For kids and kids at heart, January offers its own opportunity to connect with the herbs.
A great way to do so is to head out to the forest, field, shore, or even just down the street, and put on our super-powers of observation and curiosity. Let’s start with ourselves. We’re dressed in rain gear and clothes that insulate and protect our precious body warmth in various ways. We can ask: Why do we need to stay warm? If we’re exposed to too much cold and for too long, what happens to the function and activities in our bodies? What happens when wetness enters the picture? When we plan to be outdoors for any length of time, why do we put aside cotton, and instead wear wool, silk, or suitable synthetic fibers?
Heat moves toward cold sources, and wetness combined with cold pulls away heat. If you’re an Islander with children, you probably know how to dress for warmth and fun, no matter the winter weather. But what about the trees and low-growing plants, exposed as they are to the elements. How do they cope?
Keep noticing and wondering. The deciduous (maples, alders, apple, and the like) have dropped most, if not all, of their leaves. Don’t trees have leaves to get their food from the sun via photosynthesis? Does that mean that the trees (and other plants who’ve dropped their leaves) don’t “eat” during the winter? Do they have other sources for nourishment, or do they just slow down and – in some fashion – “hibernate” until spring? What would an idea like hibernation – which we associate with bears, or even ourselves in a metaphoric way – even mean in a plant’s life?
We might consider too, that when harvesting for food or medicine, we usually harvest from the parts of the plant where its vitality seems most concentrated. In early spring, we might harvest buds, catkins, new shoots or leaves; later on, we harvest flowers, fruits, or seeds. Later still – in late fall or winter (now) – we might harvest from areas of the plant where sugars or nutrients are stored, such as in the roots or inner bark.
Even if greatly reduced or dormant, where do you think the vitality of our plant neighbors lies within them now? If we head outside to a nearby tree, we might ask questions like these: Does this tree seem to be “active” in some way, or perhaps more “sleepy?” Maybe activity is happening in places where we can’t see, such as in the tree’s roots underground?
Settle into relaxed – even playful – inquiry. If these trees suddenly became human, what kind of people would we see? What would they be doing or how might they seem to be feeling, rooted in the earth as they are on this particular day?
Explore other trees, and also shrubs and plants, and wonder about them as individuals or groups, tucked in for the winter. Even with bare branches, dead leaves, broken stems, or empty seedpods, do you sense life in the plant? Do you think they’re dead, having either completed their life-cycles or succumbed to the elements? Or maybe they’ve only died back?
Again, these kinds of questions aren’t necessarily meant to lead to textbook answers, though if your family’s passions lead in that direction, follow along with that fire of interest. You could also make a point to check back with these plants and trees, perhaps every few days or weekly, and see when or if they “wake up.” Is there a decisive moment when when a plant shifts into the mode of spring and new growth? is it gradual? Do all the plants and trees “wake up” at once, do they do so in groups, or just one at a time?
As you wander, noticing this tree or that herb, be on the lookout for glimpses of above-ground life. Obviously, the evergreens retain their needles. If you know Douglas fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii) or Western hemlock (Tsuga heterophylla) trees, you could harvest sprigs of needles to nibble upon, or to make into tea. Simmer four 2” sprigs, or about ¼ cup of needles in 2½ cups of water, covered, for 15 minutes, then strain and drink. Doug-fir and Western Hemlock needles are rich in Vitamin C, and can support immune and respiratory health when drunk as a tea or inhaled (very carefully!) as a steam.
If you are familiar with red alder (Alnus rubra), you might discover buds on the branches. You could try a tiny nibble. What is the taste? Sweet, sour, salty, pungent, bitter? A mixture of flavors? What is the feel in your mouth? Take time tasting that bud, noticing where your attention is drawn in your body, and any responses you have to it. This kind of attentiveness helps us learn the language of plants. More about that another time!
Red alder is immune-supportive, nourishing our lymphatic system, with anti-viral properties. While not tasty (in my opinion), you could include a bud in a tea blend.
On your wander, you might notice a last flower here and there, or some new plants poking forth – a glimpse of spring to come. We’ll leave any tiny herbs alone for now, though if you are a long-time herbalist or forager, you are probably like me, and can’t help but pinch a bit of cleavers or dandelion to eat.
As you and your children head out on your winter wanders, do take time to wonder – about our tree and herb friends. Doing so is not only fun, but attunes you to subtle expressions of life energy in the plants. This perception grows ever more useful as one heads along an herbal path.
Find out more:
What do Trees Do in the Winter – Purdue University website – Extension, Forestry & Natural Resources blog
Eat the Trees! – Linda Runion
My Side of the Mountain – Jean Craighead George – classic middle grade survival fiction, during which young Sam heads out of the city to live off the land.
