St. John’s Wort, Bringing Memories
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The beauty of getting to know the names and habits of plants is that they become friends. St. John’s Wort, for example, is an old friend of mine, and her blooming in June triggers a rush of memories, gratitudes, and some longing.
Over a decade ago, my mother crossed over. She was youngish; only 7 years older than I am today. At the time, she stewarded a piece of property that she loved dearly in Willow Creek, California, and had planted a lavender farm there. It’s so lovely to tell you this story. Thank you for reading.
Every year, my mother would invite me to join her for the lavender harvest. I would begin in the morning and work through much of the day, sweeping more and more stems of lavender into growing bundles with my outstretched fingers then stacking the bundles in a cart. We hung them high in the barn loft to dry, distilling their oils.
The St. John’s Wort offers me this memory, even more clearly than the lavender, which I find curious. I enjoy lavender, don’t get me wrong. For mom, this dear plant was a game changer. Working with lavender seriously mellowed her out. But when the day’s work was done, we’d all go down to the river, and there, “weedy” St. John’s Wort would wave a golden hello.
I gratefully gathered bundles of the herb on those riverbanks to ferry north with me. I laid them across our sleeping bags and totes in the far back of our old Volvo stationwagon, where they felt the open air of windows cracked, since air conditioning was not in our budget. The children were young then, sweating in their car seats.
St. John’s Wort was one of our free and radical medicines. I dried it and trimmed the flowers, which turned olive oil nearly magenta upon infusion. Teaming with lavender, plantain, and other herbs, I crafted salves in the winter for gifts and personal use.
When you view the photo above, enlarge it to explore the leaves if you can. See the pin pricks of light that shine through? That is how I was taught to identify this plant. St. John’s Wort lets the light in, helping lift depression for many, and promoting healing in so many ways.
Which plants stand sentinel by your fond memories? How does you feel when you welcome these beings each year as they take their place in the light?