There is a Goddess of the Sun at our feet, here to heal the land and everyone who lives near her. Dandelion is among the first of...
|By Steven Martyn| It’s happened a few times that folks have thought that I am the Sacred Gardener. Well, maybe on a good day the Sacred Gardener...
|By Megan Spencer| Cattails are often referred to as the “supermarket of the wilds”. This plant is incredible; in that at anytime throughout the season, there is...
|By Steven Martyn| About a week ago, we were making chicken soup. For us, soup is not a thing, but a living process. It starts by growing...
|By Steven Martyn| I suppose I should be writing about Imbolc, but it scares me to be writing about the first stirrings of spring when winter has...
seeding earth wisdom since 1989 | In everything we do we aim to honour the ancient agreements with Nature. These agreements, which enabled our ancestors to survive and allow us to be here now, have largely been forgotten by western culture. We are re-membering Earth culture—sharing visions and teaching skills of traditional living—indigenous skills, herbalism, permaculture and sustainable building. As the seeds of wisdom inside us are watered and awaken, our connection grows and a more meaningful dimension is revealed. The World literally comes alive.
There is a Goddess of the Sun at our feet, here to heal the land and everyone who lives near her. Dandelion
is among the first of the lovely plant people to show their face in the spring. Goddess of the Honey Bee. Jester, and antidote to civilization. She has followed the devastating path of colonialism and cleared lands from her Eurasian homeland to all corners of the world. Healing and bringing joy and balance to the raped over land, and bringing balance and function to our bodies in the same way. Enabling our bodies to both absorb food and eliminate toxins with ease. Read More
|By Steven Martyn|
It’s happened a few times that folks have thought that I am the Sacred Gardener. Well, maybe on a good day the Sacred Gardener might be you or me. But for sure it’s someone we’re all striving to be.
Many of us have come to a place of understanding that we must live in harmony with the Earth. We come to this truth like pilgrims to a holy relic, from all walks of life, following many pathways to get there.
To realize this truth of living well with the Earth, we need the traditional knowledge of the land and of our ancestors. We can’t live in the past but we need to go back to find something we lost. Read More
|By Megan Spencer|
Cattails are often referred to as the “supermarket of the wilds”. This plant is incredible; in that at anytime throughout the season, there is a part of cattail that is edible. From the starchy roots to make flour, to the flowering tips to make a tasty ‘kabob’, there is always something to eat. Starting in the spring, we dig up the roots to make flour, and pull the centre of the shoots out to eat the hearts. This is a simple, satisfying harvest. Cattail doesn’t have any plants that it easily gets confused with, so it is usually easy to identify.
Cattails have a lightness to them, and a taste reminiscent of cucumber. They live in flowing water, and are water cleansers, pulling all the nutrients (and toxins) from the water and fixing them into their bodies. Because of this, it is important to make sure that your Cattail harvests are not in roadside ditches or downstream from any source of pollution.
Cattails are like our intestines, liver and kidneys, and they act as the “fat” of the land holding vast amounts of nutrients. Their cool, watery nature, specifically the slimy coating between the leaves, acts just like aloe; soothing, disinfecting and healing burns, cuts, bites and rashes. Like the inner part of aloe leaves, it’s also excellent for your complexion, and all edible parts are soothing to the stomach and intestinal tract. Read More
|By Steven Martyn|
About a week ago, we were making chicken soup. For us, soup is not a thing, but a living process. It starts by growing vital chickens, vegetables and herbs, and harvesting them in a good way. Once made, the soup has a life of its own with many incarnations until the last dregs of a unified version is eagerly lapped up by our dog, Sophie.
Making the soup starts with roasting one of our chickens and some vegetables in a clay cooker. Then we boil the bones, with lots of sea salt and our homemade 32-herb-infused apple cider vinegar, on the wood stove for the better part of a day and night. In the morning I strain the bones and scraps out of the milky stock and add back in all the roasted garlic and vegetables, potatoes and chicken. We also add lots of fresh rosemary and parsley from the greenhouse, as well as dried marjoram, basil and poor man’s pepper.