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The Beloved who I live with, has a different sensibility about what our yard should look like than I do.  This Beloved finds comfort in order, in straight lines, and in carefully cut and trimmed plants.  Yet, in the over twenty five years in which this Beloved and I have been in relationship, they have also come to understand that I am nourished by the wildness of the wisteria vines and the buzz of bees that annually make our porch sing in the Spring.  I am nourished by the small red tea roses clambering up into the tree entwining with her branches so that red blossoms peer from unexpected places throughout the Summer.  I am nourished by the sweetness of blackberry brambles scrambling over and under the back fence from the neighbor’s yard, brambles with thorns that protect them so that harvesting must be done with full presence and attention in the midst of my rapture as Summer turns to Fall.  And then there are the Dandelions, which in our climate can bloom even in the Winter.  The Dandelions have come to almost fully populate what was once a grass lawn all around the house.  Even in drought years the Dandelions persist with their dark green leaves, brilliant yellow flowers, and whimsical puff balls.  I am most certainly nourished by Dandelions.

Hi everyone! My name is Wendy and I'm an herbalist, writer, mother of 3 humans and many 4 leggeds. I grew up in the Midwest with a Grandmother who encouraged me to play with plants. Doesn't every little girl pretend to make medicine when they were little? Well, I thought we all did. However, I didn't see my life path as being an herbalist or talking about plants and herbs like an addict. So, yes, my name is Wendy, and I am a plant addict.

We are living in a time of transformation. Here we are with winter quickly turning into spring, and while a lot of the human world right now may seem less than positive there is always the opportunity to empower ourselves and use the magic of nature, if She’s willing, to help us and help others find ways to make it through, and even make it better.

While I was reading Sylvia Townsend Warner's Lolly Willowes, a too much neglected classic of witchcraft fiction, I was struck by a rhyme Lolly's Nannie Quantrell had taught her as a child, which she had learned from her grandmother:

If they would eat nettles in March

In 1547 a woman haled before the Inquisition at Navarre to answer charges of witchcraft managed to outwit her captors and escape.

She had secreted her jar of unguent on her person. Before the incredulous eyes of her judges, she transformed into a screech owl and flew away through a window.

The story is not difficult to understand. The active alkaloids of flying ointment are toxic when taken internally. There is escape and escape.

After a long stint in Los Angeles and a life mostly lived in California, I'm finding my first springtime in the country in central Missouri to be indescribably magical. As the flowers begin to bloom and the green begins to return, I am truly shocked to behold all the botanical life that just bursts forth everywhere, all on its own, without the intense watering and cultivation that was so often necessary in my former desert environment. And it seems that so many different flowers, all in one place, are expected to miraculously appear on the scene at various times throughout the year! It's a kaleidoscopic theater of brightness and life.

For example, I recently discovered that a seemingly lifeless shrub right in front of our house had - quite possibly overnight - adorned itself in elegant, delicate, and intensely bright yellow blooms. I've since spied the same blossoms elsewhere in my area. Now that I know that this beauty as forsythia, I thought I'd explore some of her floral magic and wisdom.

To be performed during the Waning Moon