Our herb walks take place on the first Saturday of each month, right through the year. Though the winter walks may require more imagination and willingness to search for treasures, arguably, they’re the most important times for our wellbeing. Getting out into the cold is one of the best ways to shake the winter blues, absorbing the benefits of whatever sunlight there is to offer.
I’ve been told a number of times by herb walk participants what a wonderful start to the weekend they make. A little bit of perspective change for a Saturday morning to get you into the weekend relaxation and appreciation mode.
The Quickening
Our February walk falls at a beautiful time in the Celtic calendar, sometimes referred to as ‘the Quickening’. It’s now that we look carefully for the peeps of green shoots: they may be small, but they tell a big story. They are our mini-indicators of all the new life that’s stirring into being. They mark the unseen, underground activity of furtling roots, swelling cells and stirring life forces readying themselves to push beyond their winter bundles and reach towards the light.
From now through to Equinox this activity gathers pace. It pays to venture out each day and spot the changes. As the song says, ‘what a difference a day makes’.
Imbolc
The beginning of February sees the festival of Imbolc. This is a ‘cross quarter day’, meaning it is a mid point between two of the four main markers of the natural year (the quarter days). Living in our temperate climes we have an innate recognition of the four seasons of the year: spring, summer, autumn and winter. These correlate to the full cycle of the sun and the vital sustaining power and light it provides.
Summer and winter focus on the zeniths of the Summer solstice and Winter solstice – the highest and lowest extremes of the sun, experienced as the longest day and the shortest day. Directly in between these two are our Equinoxes – in Spring and Autumn. As the name suggests, these are the times when day and night are of equal length. We sense them in our souls as a time of evolving change, often commenting on the perceptible difference in light levels or warmth.
https://robynfrancis.com.au/the-celtic-eightfold-year
Breaking up the year further, we have the cross-quarter days, meaning the whole year is divided into eight periods of about six weeks each. Six weeks is a manageable stretch, even in our busy lives we can usually cast forward to envisage what we may be able to achieve in six weeks, or stoically accept that for the next six week period we will simply bide our time and watch what develops, safe in the knowledge that change will surely come, it always does.
Imbolc, at the start of February, is the mid point between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox. It is a time associated with the first signs of growth, often marked by snowdrops and connected in mythology to St Brigid, the Bride.
Candlemas
The Christian tradition responded to the same seasonal cues as its pagan predecessors, often adopting these key turning points in the year within their own celebrations. For religious communities, especially monasteries, Candlemas is celebrated on the 1st or 2nd of February and brings a final end to the Christmas and Epiphany season.
It is a ceremony of purification, linked to the purification of Mary, mother of Jesus after giving birth, and celebrated by the lighting of candles. While snowdrops, being white flowers with drooping heads, are typically revered as emblems of potential death, and therefore not brought indoors, the exception was Candlemas when monks would strew their altars with snowdrops.
As we set out on our February herb walk, we were particularly ‘eyes-peeled’ hoping to spot the first few snowdrops of the year.
Perennial ‘wink’
First plant to catch our eye however was Periwinkle. It’s folk name always makes me think of it giving a cheering ‘wink’ from the hedgerows. Certainly its clear blue colour and playful five-petal form provides a welcome greeting as it peeps out on a cold day.
But don’t be misled by my fanciful wonderings. The name periwinkle actually comes from the Old English word ‘perwince’ which itself comes from the Latin name ‘pervinca’, likely from the verb pervincire, which means to ‘bind’ or ‘entwine’. A reference to how the plant winds through hedgerows, over fences and across the ground.
[If ‘periwinkle’ makes you think of a shell or sea snail, you’re right too – the name is the same for both the sea creature and the plant, but from different derivations. The sea shell likely combines the Latin ‘pina’ (meaning ‘mussel’) and Germanic ‘wincel’ (meaning ‘spiral shell’)]
Back to periwinkle the flower, latin name Vinca minor … it is an absolute treasure to find, with many uses, a truly purposeful plant.
Binding
The creeping nature of the plant produces long tendrils, very useful for binding – whether practically (such as around a bundle of sticks) or decoratively (such as making a wreath).
Medicinally, the binding was also used to help with cramps. Simply wrap your periwinkle around the affected part.
Astringent and Anti-inflammatory
Before you read on, please be aware that periwinkle is not recommended for internal consumption, especially without medical advice. The commentary here refers to folk remedies used in the past, though studies on this plant do show its potential.
Periwinkle is considered a drying herb, it was therefore resorted to in the past to help staunch haemorrhaging. For this a tonic of periwinkle would be made by boiling the herb in water (ten leaves and ten flowers boiled in water) or prepared as a ‘solar infusion’ (by being left for three hours in sunlight) and sipping through the day.
Studies have shown periwinkle flower extracts in alcohol may help both orally and topically with wound healing and psoriasis. There is a folk tradition in Palestine of its use for this purpose.
Alternatively, the anti-inflammatory properties of periwinkle could be brought out by macerating the herb in oil. This could then be used directly, or blended with wax to make an ointment to treat inflamed skin.
Inflammation is recognised as a significant factor for most of us as we age. Anyone over the age of forty is likely to have some aggravation due to inflammation. Most treatments have some basis in the natural world, so it’s good to be able to identify the helpful plants, and there are a quite a few plant allies when it comes to inflammation.
Modern herbalism
Many of the old folk uses of plants have fallen out of use, and even knowledge, as we are able to pop to the chemists on the high street, visit the doctor or order remedies online, inspired by tik tok influencers or wellbeing podcasts. There’s likely as much reason to follow traditional approaches as some of the modern ‘miracle cures’, we make our own choices.
However, the most rational approach is to look for scientific studies of plants and their uses. These will typically seek to understand the active compounds in the plants. While a pharmaceutical approach will isolate these compounds to form a patentable drug; a herbalist’s approach will be to use the plant in its more whole, natural state in a preparation designed to bring out either the oil soluble or water soluble compounds.
The Madagascan form of periwinkle, Catharanthus roseus, has been studied for its potential in antimicrobial, antiprotozoal and anti-cancer applications as well as use in diabetes and wound healing. Our Vinca minor is related to this, however, to date there are insufficient clinical trials to be able to provide recommendations for specific dosages, whichever form of periwinkle is used.
Among the 130 or more alkaloids found in periwinkle, vinblastine and vincristine are the most well known, they are used in chemotherapy to treat Hodgkin disease, lymphocytic leukaemia and other cancers. Having had this treatment against a lymphoma, I am certainly very grateful to the little winking periwinkle, even though my vincristine dosage had to be lowered due to the numbing effect it had on my fingers.
Ref, https://www.drugs.com/npp/periwinkle.html
Love potion
We can’t leave our dive into the beneficial associations of periwinkle without also referencing its beautiful associations too. Especially as we approach Valentine’s day, its benefit as a love charm could come in handy.
Periwinkle was once known as ‘sorcerer’s violet’ such were the claims made about its potency as an addition to charms and love potions. It was also believed to have the power to exorcise evil spirits.
Culpeper, in the 17th C, told us ‘the leaves of the lesser periwinkle, if eaten by man and wife together, will cause love between them’. If you’re looking for something a little less fatal to cement your attraction, try Lady Wilde’s 19th C suggestion of a sprig of mint – hold this in your hand until moist and warm, then take the hand of the one you love and ensure their hand closes over the herb to be sure you’ll remain together.
Herb walk talk
You can see how, with so much interest in one little plant, our herb walks don’t do much to increase your step count, but we do cover much ground in terms of the topics we explore with all the various prompts for conversation.
Strolling along past blackthorn’s spiky skeletons – no sign of budding yet in this well-trimmed hedge – conversation ranged over thorns, flowering times (blackthorn has larger thorns, flowers before the leaves come out and bears sloes in autumn; it’s ‘sister’ in the hedgerow, hawthorn – aka ‘mayflower’ – has leaves before its white spring blossoms and bears haws in autumn) nettles and natural skincare.
Passing by pine trees – great for a stimulating, health-boosting tea – we looked up at balls of mistletoe, here in an ash tree. Mistletoe was considered sacred because it cannot grow on the ground, it will only grow on its host plant. It is relatively common on apple trees, not unusual on the ash – as we’d found – but most prized when found on oak, the father of the forest. To harvest mistletoe, Druids will deck themselves in ceremonial white robes and use a golden sickle, taking care to ensure the mistletoe globe falls onto a white sheet – it would lose its potency if it touches the ground.
Peaking out on Peak Lane
We rounded off our walk by making the descent down Peak Lane. Here we truly benefited from having small people on the walk with us. The comfy seat of a pushchair is just the right height for observing whatever may be peeping through hedge banks alongside the road.
So while I was sky-gazing, waxing lyrical about ivy, little squeals from further on excitedly told me the first snow drops had been spotted. It takes a beady eye – if we’d been driving up the lane we’d certainly have missed them – but at this slow amble, with the keenness of our youngest friends, the snowdrops bowed their heads to greet us.
As February progresses drifts of snowdrops become a more common sight along our lanes and in our gardens. Enjoy them while you can, heralds of spring hope, they will soon be gone. By March there will be a whole new unfurling of spring plants to go out and seek. I hope you’ll be with us then.
See you next time
Our March herb walk will take place on Saturday 1st March. Keep an eye on the calendar pages to find out our starting point, which will be a suitably seasonal place in Cam or Dursley. We’ll meet at 10am and be out for an hour. All welcome.
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