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On sunny afternoons a mild breeze whispers a faint reminder of summer, but the leaves are changing color and nighttime is coming earlier. As the darkness grows and the season changes, it’s almost time to tuck your garden in for the winter—a mundane and sacred act. 
      When frost starts nipping at your plants, cut back perennials that require it in the autumn, remove annuals, and turn over the soil where they grew. Set aside one small branch for ritual. Also, plant any flower bulbs or garlic for the spring. As you do this, honor Mother Earth. Think of how your garden looked in the summer and thank her for the bounty and beauty she provided. Use a stick to draw runes, ogham, or other symbols in the soil or simply write a message such as “thank you” or “blessed be.” Also thank all the creatures that may have called your garden home such as toads, salamanders, snakes, and spiders, as well as birds. Also thank the pollinators that visited, and don’t forget faeries, elves, and other magical beings.
      Autumn leaves are timed perfectly for use as a protective winter mulch around the base of biennials and perennials. Mulching will also prevent erosion from rain and snow melt. Include a few crystals, seashells, or rocks that you collected over the summer amongst the plants as you tuck them in. 
      When all is finished, walk through the garden and speak the name of each plant. Take a bowl of fresh spring water and using the branch you set aside, dip it into the water and then sprinkle it around the garden as you say:

“With rain and sun this garden was blessed,
And now it’s time for slumber and rest.
I bid you fond farewell until the spring,
And dream of the beauty you will once more bring.
As above, so below,
May this garden forever grow.”

As if to defy the waning season, summer sometimes places a crown across the tops of plants in fields and meadows. Rising like the pointed palisades on the rim of a royal diadem, the wild cucumber vine (Echinocystis lobata) lifts its six-inch flower spikes toward the sky. Clusters of small white, star-shaped flowers give the plant a fluffy appearance by day, but in the moonlight, it looks like a great feathered serpent stretching across the landscape. The shape of the bright green leaves is reminiscent of ivy and, like a grape vine, wild cucumber has curling tendrils that help it climb over everything in its path or drape like a festive garland. 
      Its various folk names refer to the fruit: balsam apple, prickly cucumber, and cactus balls. Resembling something from a Dr. Seuss book, the small spherical to oblong fruit is covered in long, thin spines. It’s not surprising that the plant’s genus name was derived from the Latin echinus, meaning “hedgehog.” Although it is related to the garden cucumber, it is not edible—even sans the spines—and while not lethal, it has a bitter taste and unpleasant side effects. 
      That said, the tuberous roots have been used medicinally by the Cherokee, Menominee, and Ojibwa peoples for several ailments and even added to love potions. The Oglala used the seeds for beads. As the fruit decays, it leaves behind a brown, papery network of fibers that have been incorporated into jewelry in Europe. Native to North America, wild cucumber was introduced into Europe in the late nineteenth century as an ornamental to decorate arbors and fences. Like many other plants, it escaped the garden and made itself at home throughout Europe and as far east as central Russia. 
      Magically, the flowers can be included in love spells as can the vine, which also works well in handfasting ceremonies. Although small, the spiny fruit is symbolically protective and can be used to ward off any form of negativity. In addition, the vine can be wound into a circle and hung as a protective wreath on a door.

Even though the daylight hours are slowly waning, the days still seem long as we drift toward autumn. The Gaelic festival of Lughnasadh, also known as Lammas in England, marks the first of the major grain harvests and is a celebration of summer and abundance. The name Lammas comes from the Anglo-Saxon term hlafmass, meaning “loaf-mass,” an event involving the first loaves of bread made from fresh-cut grain.
      Gathering bilberries (Vaccinium myrtillus) on August 1st was a traditional part of the festivities in Ireland. Also known as whortleberries and heath berries, bilberry is easily mistaken for its close cousin blueberry (V. angustifolium). Bilberries are usually darker blue, almost purple when ripe, and smaller than blueberries.
      The places where bilberries, blackberries (Rubus spp.), and other types of berries grow are generally regarded as liminal thresholds where chance meetings with faeries can occur. According to legend, suddenly hearing music while picking berries often leads to an encounter with the fae.
      As a prelude to lighting the Lughnasadh bonfire in Ireland, it was customary to pick bilberries. At the well-known faery hill of Knockfierna (Cnoc Fírinne) in the center of County Limerick, bilberries and flowers were picked on the gentle, craggy slopes and placed on the circular cairn (pile of stones) at the summit of the hill. According to legend, the hill was the home of Donn Fírinne and the cairn, his burial site. Donn Fírinne was one of the Tuatha Dé Danann and a faery king of Limerick (although some sources note him only as a prince).
      You can carry on the Lughnasadh tradition by including bilberries or blueberries in your celebration. Scatter a few berries or place a handful of them with a basket of flowers on your altar. Don’t be surprised if a faery or two join you. Since Lughnasadh is a celebration of the grain harvest and Lammas Loaf (a braided or twisted bread) is usually included in ritual, enjoy it with some bilberry jam.
      Associated with luck and manifestation, include bilberries or blueberries in spells for prosperity and success as well as love and healing. These berries are also an aid for dream work.
      Although not associated with Lughnasadh, a special treat in Scotland was made by mixing bilberry jam with whisky. Often growing amongst the heather, wine was made with bilberries and the flowers of bell heather (Erica cinerea).

The Interrupted Fern (Osmunda claytoniana) is a bit unusual as most ferns go. The first time I saw a row of them at the edge of the meadow, from a distance I thought they looked like a line of aliens coming out of the woods. On closer inspection, I saw that they were very weird, indeed.
      As it matures, this fern develops into a vase shape that reaches three to four feet tall and has fertile and sterile fronds. In the early spring, the upright fertile fronds appear first with a section near the top of the plant with brown spore-producing leaflets. After releasing the spores, these leaflets fall away leaving a gap along the stem. The sterile fronds sprout up around the fertile fronds and create the plant’s graceful shape.
      As usual, I wanted to find out more about this plant I’d never seen before. The species name honors Virginia botanist John Clayton (1694 – 1773) — standard stuff — but the genus proved to be far more interesting and a little obscure. Osmunda is in the Osmundaceae botanical family, which is also known as the Royal Fern family. It was so named because the fertile leaflets, which usually appear at the top of the fronds gives the plant the appearance of wearing a crown. Except for the species in my field, which is interrupted and not crowned.
      The origin of the genus name is not certain, but it is said to honor someone called Osmund, Osmundus, or Asmund. One story associated with it comes from Saxon mythology and is about Osmund the Waterman of Loch Fyne on the west coast of Scotland. According to the legend, he hid his wife and daughter on a small island covered with these ferns to keep them safe during a Viking raid. His daughter is said to have named the fern after him.
      Although Saint Osmund of Salisbury and the Swedish archbishop of Skara, Osmundus, are often cited as potential name sources, so too is Åsmund Kåresson. The names Osmund, Osmundus, Asmund or Åsmund have a Norse/Germanic/Icelandic origin and are composed of the word Os or Ás meaning “god” and mund, “protection.” In terms of the runes, these meanings are found in the Younger Futhark symbol As, and the Anglo-Saxon Os, which are versions of the Elder Futhark Ansuz. This brings us full circle back to Åsmund Kåresson who was the earliest known rune carver in the province of Uppland, Sweden. The eleventh-century Ängby Stone is attributed to him.
      Magically, like most ferns the Interrupted Fern is associated with protection, defense, and security. Allied with the runic interpretation of Osmund, it may suggest special protection from deities. This plant’s energy is an aid for runic study and readings. In spending some time with this fern, I concluded that its interrupted feature carries a message. Life will always throw curveballs that knock us off course and there are times when we need to put things on hold. Life interrupted. However, sometimes they can provide a meaningful break, an interlude and chance to reassess things. Don’t be frustrated by an interruption, instead, find out what it means.

Occurring only days apart, the Summer Solstice and Midsummer’s Eve have become intertwined with overlapping traditions and customs. In addition to celebrating long warm days, protection charms were high on the to-do list at this time of year and often incorporated into bonfire rituals.
      In the British Isles and Germany, the magical plant mugwort was especially useful. Long stems were tied together and worn around the waist, and then thrown into the bonfire, which would protect the wearer from ghosts and magic. The burning mugwort would also carry away bad luck. In Germany, gazing at the bonfire through a wreath of mugwort was believed to ensure good eyesight for a year. In France, both these customs were followed using St. John’s wort instead of mugwort. Wearing sprigs of St. John’s wort and tossing them into the fire was also common in parts of Britain.
      As part of a Midsummer protection spell in Germany, vervain and larkspur were thrown into the bonfire through a wreath of mugwort to give them extra power. For protection on the Isle of Man, people wore chaplets of mugwort during the celebrations and attached leafy stems to the horns of their cattle.
      The faeries were said to be particularly active at this time of year and many customs involved protection from them or were aimed at keeping them from meddling with livestock. There were also many beliefs about methods to make the usually invisible magical beings visible. In Denmark, standing beneath an alder tree at midnight on Midsummer’s Eve was said to enabl a person to see the faery king and his entourage on their way to revels. According to Danish folklore, the fae often lived under alders or in alder thickets.
      Elder shrubs were also a faery habitat and in England adding elderflowers to the Midsummer’s Eve bonfire was believed to allow people to see the fae. A mainstay of medieval gardens, lavender was also said to attract elves with its delightful fragrance and silvery leaves. After all, one of its folk names is elf leaf. Wearing a circlet of lavender flowers and tossing a few sprigs into the Midsummer’s Eve bonfire was said to also aid in seeing elves and faeries.
      What might you see this Solstice? Will you have a Midsummer night’s dream?

Magic that takes place in the garden doesn’t always have to do with plants and you never know what you might find. While weeding around some lilies in my garden the other morning, I did a double take for what I thought at first was a spent flower that had dropped and landed on a leaf. On closer inspection, I saw that it was a moth. Its markings were less than remarkable until he moved one of his wings revealing a splotch of red color and a hind wing eye spot that was very owl like. Unfortunately, I wasn’t quick enough to snap a picture of that.
        Curious about my garden visitor, I did some research and found that it is an io moth (Automeris io) also known as the peacock moth. An earlier name for it was Hyperchiria lilith, which had been based on a series of female moths with reddish-brown forewings. The only link between the moth and Lilith is that in many stories she was said to have had red hair. Even though I liked the little male moth I found, I was liking his species even more.
        The current species name comes from Greek mythology. Io was the first priestess of the goddess Hera. Io is also known as the cow goddess because Zeus turned her into a heifer in an attempt to hide her from the wrath of his wife. Of course, Hera knew everything that was going on in Olympus and elsewhere. Fleeing from the mighty goddess, Io eventually ended up in Egypt where she regained her human form. The Greeks identified Io with Isis. Interestingly, because corn is an occasional host plant for io moth larvae, early twentieth-century naturalist Gene Stratton-Porter called it “Hera of the Corn.”
        At any rate, since moths are mostly nocturnal and elusive, they may go unnoticed for magic. However, because they are active at night they are especially helpful for dream work and contacting spirits. As for symbolism: attracted to a candle flame, the moth represents the soul seeking truth as well as transcendence. It is also regarded as a symbol of knowledge. Associated with the moon, the moth is a perfect symbol for an esbat altar and lunar magic.
       Invite the energy of the moth for spell work, especially for defense. It can aid in understanding omens and messages received through divination. In addition to being considered an oracle, the moth was often regarded as a witch in European folklore. With the symmetry in its patterns and shape, the moth represents balance and can help restore equilibrium when life gets out of whack.

The term gowan was a generic Scottish folk name for yellow flowers. The word is likely to have come from the Middle English gollan, meaning “yellow flower,” which possibly came from a source akin to the Old Norse gullinn, meaning “golden.” For a time in the nineteenth century, the word gowan was also used in reference to daisies. Later they were distinguished as white gowan or yellow gowan. In addition, the yellow flowers were regarded as witches’ gowan, but why?
        Only two flowers were actually called witch-gowan and witches’ gowan: dandelion (Taraxacum officinale) and globeflower (Trollius europaeus), respectively. The other yellow gowans are the meadow buttercup (Ranunculus acris), and marsh marigold (Caltha palustris). In addition to their color, another property they share is sap that is poisonous or at least highly irritating to the skin. The white sap of the dandelion and globeflower was called witches’ milk.
        It seems odd that these flowers were called witches’ gowan because folklore only mentions the dandelion and marsh marigold as being used for protection against witches. Perhaps their toxic sap was enough to link these plants with witches because witches were blamed for anything harmful or inexplicably bad.
        Instead of witches, the yellow gowans were more often associated with faeries, goblins, and trolls. Marsh marigold and globeflower also had the folk name goblin flower. Another name for globeflower was troll flower. Dandelions were called fairy clocks.
        The globeflower is ball-shaped and its petals remain mostly closed making it look like a small, yellow cabbage. In Scandinavia, the plant’s poisonous qualities were attributed to trolls that were said to have meddled with the flowers. According to folklore in the Netherlands, malicious elves used them to prepare poison. Dandelions gathered on Midsummer’s Eve were said to have the power to ward off witches. According to many legends, faeries could tell time with the flowers or the seed heads. In parts of England, seeds floating on the air were called fairies and it was considered lucky to catch one, but if you made a wish and let it go your wish would come true.
        Buttercups were said to be used as basins by faeries. In Ireland, they were traditionally placed on doorsteps and windowsills on May Eve to protect against faery mischief. Unlike their buttercup cousins, the yellow petals of marsh marigold do not overlap into a cup shape. On the Isle of Man marsh marigold was called the herb of Beltane. It used as a charm against faeries and witches on Beltane and as a general protective charm throughout the month of May.
        While these flowers may not have been used by witches in the past, they live up to their old folk name through use in modern witchcraft. Magically, dandelions are an aid to divination, opening awareness and bringing clarity of purpose. They also help in contacting and communicating spirits and spirit guides. Use buttercups in spells to manifest abundance and prosperity in your life. They also enhance dream work. Marsh marigold is instrumental in healing and renewal. Also use them to stoke inspiration or to remove negativity. Globeflower is effective for removing negativity, breaking and warding off hexes, and defensive spells.