Yesterday the sun came out and we flung the patio doors open as if they had never been closed. We spent the morning out in the sunshine, feeling the soft sunlight and all of its benefits on our skin, our arms, our faces - apricity.
At once we can feel spring and summer stretching out in front of us - long, warm evenings watching shooting stars and bats swooping around the garden. Weaving community with like-minded folk around the fire. I hope to relive some of those moments again this year.
But a closer look at the garden reveals that winter is not over yet. There are frogs hibernating under dark rocks, hoary, frosty mornings lining the newly built raised beds with a layer of cold white fluff, a greenhouse that needs to be cleared but I can’t quite get out there to do it. Most days are grey and rainy, the ghost of last years nettles stand sentry around the rosebush.
Despite all this, the quickening - when spring is awakened by Brigid in the first cold days of February has happened - there are budding daffodils, purple crocuses and tiny wee garlic shoots. And although there is no stopping spring once she has sprung, I almost feel like we are on the cusp of being released into this new season, like a horse waiting for the stable door to be opened, a dog being held back by its collar before it can run freely across a field.
I am planting a few seeds (spinach, sweet peas), but holding back on tomatoes and such so they don’t get stunted or leggy in our unheated greenhouse. I am wanting ever more to write and create but feeling somehow restricted. Mars, the planet of action, my own sign, Aries’ ruler is in retrograde until Sunday, which I am taking as a sign from the universe that things will ‘go direct’ and burst forth into life after just a few more days of winter’s rest.
I am craving green-ness, strong tea and the nettle’s return. It has inspired the extract below from my book, Earth Child, which I am writing today in the sunlight shining through the window.
A herb for March - Nettle
Nettle is a herb of fire. Rich in iron, nettle is considered to be a tonic for the blood. Nettle contains many vitamins and minerals as well as containing antihistamine, anti-inflammatory and anti-bacterial properties. Nettle tops can be used cooked as wilted greens or in a nourishing soup at this time of year. Be sure to collect them from a place free from pesticides or better still, if you can devote a patch of growing space to them you will be rewarded with soup in the springtime, seeds for energy balls in the autumn (just a pinch will do, they can be quite the stimulant!) and tea all year round. Nettle tops make a great pairing with lemon balm and mint for a refreshing garden brew. Nettle is not recommended for use in pregnancy.
I write, in the hope that it won’t be too long until I am feeling the sun on my face and maybe the odd sharp sting of nettle as I harvest the first few tops.
I would love to know how you are feeling at this mid-point between Imbolc and Ostara - the Spring Equinox. Is it still very much winter where you are? Can you feel the pull of energy from a burgeoning Spring? (Or are you holding onto summer or giving way to autumn in the southern hemisphere?) Let me know in the comments below.
I am also craving greenness, doing my best to stay appreciative of winter offers. Thanks for sharing Kayleigh!
The weather is reflecting winter but the energy of spring is birthing. The birds are singing more frequently and the bark’s colors are returning to life.
The heaviness of winter has become a blanket to rest and be cozy in but it’s not handling me down when it’s time to move about.
Nettles are amazing. I have associated them with fire before. Maybe me think of the way they sting when they are alive. It also reminded me that there are some that get stung more often than others. My spiritual teacher would break out in hive just transporting the tray to me. I work with them a lot and would just stung until I was aggressively trying to be. I stoped growing them though because they’re poisonous to cats and dogs and we have pets and strays that play in our gardens.