Cailleachs Herbarium
Exploring Scottish Folk Practices and Traditions
Wildcrafting & Foraging
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Plant Communication | Animism & Genius Loci | Terroir & Phenomenology.
I have recently been reflecting about a conference I spoke at a while ago. A few people were discussing a problem they felt they had in getting to know plants. What is plant communication, the delegates were asking? What does…
ByScott
Flower Jam – Preserving the May (or any day)
The weather has been hot. Today is no exception. Hot, wet and humid with a wind coming from the south. The breeze brings the heady scent of hawthorn bloom through my open window. The scent of these mingling with the earthy aroma of…
Foraging in July in the Scottish Lothians
“A shower of rain in July, when the Corn begins to fill, is worth a plough of Oxen, and all belongs there till.” Am Mios crochadh nan con – The month of hanging dogs, also known as Am mios buidhe…
Foraging in May in Scottish Lothians
“May, May the merry month of May“. I’m no Julie Andrews but this is the time of year when we begin to feel that summer, Samhradh, has truly begun. Bealtaine proper also fell into May for us this year, with both the…
Foraging in April in the Scottish Lothians
When April weeps, then May will chirp and sing, for April showers make May flowers to spring. Ah April, an Giblean, also known as May of the silly one, Céitein na h-òinsich. òinsich could mean silly one and cuckoo. It’s traditionally…
Foraging in March in the Scottish Lothians
The cuckoo comes in the middle of March and sings in the middle of April and passes away at Lunasa tide when the corn begins to fill March, Màrt, is upon us, the time of earrach geamhraidh, or winter-spring continues…
Foraging in February in the Scottish Lothians
February, Faoilleach, the wolf ravage. Imbolc and La Fheill Bride. The month of two halves. The beginning, a full on winter experience. By the end becoming a little easier going with clear signs of summer on its way. The weather though…
Foraging in December in Scotland’s Lothians
As I get deeper into the woods I hear the cry of a Common Buzzard above me, I think it’s telling me I’m on its turf as it circles me above the trees. I see great tits and chaffinches darting between the evergreens and I rest for a bit in a pine needle covered clearing. I can see the white resin of the Scots pine running down a few of the trunks and have a scratch at it, releasing that fresh pine scent as it sticks to my fingers