Today has brought a gentle rain to the parched hills. It has been a real scorcher in Ireland this summer, as we are under a drought warning and the typically green hills have faded to a crispy yellow.
The rain comes to us like the most precious gift, a soft and steady sprinkling, slowly working its way into the land, quenching her thirst and our own. But around the world, extreme heat is still ravaging communities and landscapes. Our hearts also feel the flames, anxiously responding to the relentless aggression of war and greed.
The study of herbalism has taught me that everything has a season. And that every season brings characteristics or qualities that paradoxically challenge us, while also offering us the potential for wondrous gifts.
Summer opens our hearts. And while this can create feelings of desperate vulnerability and anxiety, it also allows for deep love and radical caring.
The practice of community herbalism and community care is a choice we can make every day. Doing the herbwork, inspired by deep love for our neighbors and the land, offers real protection against the burning inferno of ____________ (your choice fill in the blank: militarized techno-feudalism; hyper-capitalism; corporate imperialism; ecocidal oligarchy, etc.).
The rains today are slow and steady, as is the path we can walk together. When we garden alongside one another, when we create remedies together to share across the kitchen table or in the streets, we are building a community beyond commodity.
Thank you rain. Thank you passionflower and rose. Thank you seaweed and blue vervain.
Herbally yours,
Lorna
P.S. You can view all this monthโs happeningsย inย our newsletter here.













