Tag: herb lore

Myrtle Folklore and Magical Properties
Plants and Herbs · Witchcraft

Myrtle Folklore and Magical Properties

J.Leave a comment

So, something funny happened.

Two years ago, I purchased a set of three elderberry starts. (Not quite saplings, since they were still very tiny.) I planted them, looked after them, and then pretty much let them do their thing once they got established. When I noticed buds on one, I was very excited — it was a little early for a baby elderberry to put out flowers, but so what? Elderberry flowers!

Except…

A close-up of a cluster of hot pink crepe myrtle/crape myrtle flowers.

Don’t get me wrong. They’re beautiful and vibrant. They’re just also extremely not elderberries.

Couldn’t be farther from elderberries, actually. This small tree is a stunning example of a Lagerstroemia — also known as the crape (or crepe, or crêpe) myrtle.

While I was looking forward to experiencing my first home-grown elderberries this year, I am willing to settle for a very pretty crape myrtle. This tree isn’t native to this area (in fact, there are no Lagerstroemia species native to the US), but it’s very common in the southeast and the seeds have become a food source for birds like goldfinches, cardinals, and dark-eyed juncos, among others. While I’m far more in favor of planting native plants, the fact that many native species of birds have shifted to using crape myrtle seeds as a winter food source is a very big (and legitimately fascinating) deal. If left unchecked, crape myrtles can produce a lot of seeds and will multiply prolifically. If native bird species are taking to crape myrtle seeds as a winter food source — and even seemingly preferring them to commercial bird seeds — that’s a good thing. It allows these birds to take the place of their natural predators and may keep volunteer crape myrtles from becoming a problem.

But enough about my myrtle problems. Here’s some more neat stuff about myrtles in general.

Myrtle Magical Uses and Folklore

Crape myrtles (Lagerstroemia) are native to parts of Asia, Australia, and the Indian subcontinent, and they’re somewhat distantly related to what we usually consider myrtles (Myrtus). Same with lemon myrtles (Backhousia citriodora), which are found in Australia.
Myrtus species can be found in the Mediterranean, western Asia, India, and northern Africa. Lagerstroemia, Backhousia, and Myrtus are genera in the order Myrtales.

There are also bog myrtles (Myrica gale), which are found pretty much anywhere in the northern hemisphere where you can find bogs, and bayberries (like Myrica pensylvanica, M. carolinensis, M. californica, and a whole bunch of others). These are wax myrtles, part of the order Fagales, and are actually more closely related to beech trees.
(Vinca, also known as “creeping myrtle” or “lesser periwinkle,” is not related to myrtles. It’s also a bit of an invasive nightmare here.)

For the purpose of this post, I’m going to focus on members of Myrtaceae.
(Wax myrtles, you’ll get your turn. Promise.)

A botanical illustration of Myrtus communis, the common myrtle.
n208_w1150 by BioDivLibrary is licensed under CC-PDM 1.0

Common myrtle (Myrtus communis) is used as a culinary herb and medicinal plant. Figs, threated onto a myrtle skewer and roasted, acquire a unique flavor from the essential oils present in the wood. The seeds, dried and ground, have an interesting, peppery flavor often used in sausages. As a medicinal plant, it’s been used to treat scalp and skin conditions, to stop bleeding, and to treat sinus problems. (Unfortunately, there’s limited evidence that myrtle really does much for that last one.)

Lemon myrtle (Backhousia citriodora) is also a culinary and medicinal plant. As a culinary herb, it’s used to flavor any dish you might flavor with lemon: desserts, fish, poultry, or pasta. It’s especially useful for flavoring dairy-based dishes, since the acidity of actual lemon juice tends to ruin the texture of milk products.
Medicinally, the oil has some pretty significant antimicrobial activity. The leaves themselves are also very relaxing.
(I’ve had the dried leaves in tea, where I find it really shines — it’s got a delightful citrusy flavor with a bright, subtly sweet taste, and it absolutely knocks me out.)

In ancient Greece, the myrtle tree was a sacred tree for Aphrodite and Demeter. Seeing one in a dream or vision was considered good luck if you were either a farmer or a woman. It was also connected to the minor deity Iacchus, for whom there isn’t really much information — he was often syncretized with Dionysus, and Dionysus was all about wreaths and garlands. He could also have been a son of Dionysus, a son of Demeter, or a son of Persephone.

There are also three ancient Greek origin stories for the common myrtle. In one, an athlete named Myrsine outdid all of her rivals. In retaliation, they killed her and the goddess Athena turned her into a beautiful myrtle tree. In another, a priestess of Aphrodite broke her vows to get married (either willingly or unwillingly, depending on the version). Aphrodite then turned her into a myrtle tree, either as a punishment (for willingly breaking her vows) or as protection (against the husband who abducted her to marry). In the third version, a nymph turned herself into a myrtle tree in order to avoid Apollo’s unwanted advances.

Pink crape myrtle flowers on the branch.
Photo by Griffin Wooldridge on Pexels.com

In Japan, crape myrtles are known as sarusuberi (百日紅). Their striking flowers are often found in traditional artwork and make very striking bonsai.

Crape myrtles don’t have much history in old grimoires or European magical systems, purely because they weren’t really around centuries ago. When you’re reading about largely European folk magic, ceremonial magic, mythologies, or herbal medicine, they’re going to be talking about Myrtus species, not Lagerstroemia. That said, crape myrtle flowers are associated with general positivity, love, and romance.

Lemon myrtles don’t have much history in European magical systems, either. Like crape myrtles, this doesn’t mean that they don’t have value. In modern western magic, lemon myrtle is usually considered a solar herb and all of its attributes: purification, positivity, luck, and protection.

As a plant of Aphrodite and Demeter, common myrtle makes a good offering for either of these deities. (This isn’t always the case — sometimes, when a plant is sacred to a god, it means don’t touch that plant.) Since these goddesses are shown wearing wreaths of myrtle, it’s not a terrible idea to weave a myrtle wreath and either wear it while doing devotional work, or place it as an offering to one of them.

A hand holding a sprig of myrtle, showing the plant's leaves and berries.
Photo by Furkan Films on Pexels.com

Common myrtle is also very strongly associated with love and marriage. In Eastern Europe, myrtle wreaths were held over the heads of a marrying couple (now, people use crowns instead). All the way across the sea, in Appalachia, one method of love divination involves throwing a sprig of myrtle into a fire. If you watch the smoke closely, it’s said to form the shape of your true love’s face.

Myrtle is more than a love and marriage herb, however. It’s also considered protective. As mentioned in myrtle’s Greek origin stories, two of them describe women turning (or being turned) into myrtle trees in order to escape men. In England, it was also thought that blackbirds used myrtle trees to protect themselves against malevolent sorcery.

Common myrtle is associated with Venus and the Moon. Lemon myrtle is associated with the Sun.

Using Myrtle

If you have access to dried common or lemon myrtle as a culinary spice, you’re in luck — these are ideal ingredients for kitchen witchery. Combine them with other ingredients that match your intention (for example, make a delectable chamomile and lemon myrtle tea for luck, just be ready for a nap first), ask the herbs for their help, and you’re good to go.

Lemon and common myrtles have a high concentration of essential oils, so they’re good for infusing. Place some of the dried leaves in a carrier oil, like sweet almond or jojoba, and allow them to sit in a warm, dark area. Shake them regularly, and decant or strain the oil after a month or so. You’ve made an oil you can use for anointing, dressing candles, you name it.

If you want to use common myrtle for love divination, brew a cup of myrtle tea and read the leaves. You can also toss a branch of fresh myrtle into a fire and read the smoke.

I wouldn’t recommend planting myrtle trees if you live outside of their native range, but, if you’re in the southeastern US like me, you probably have access to loads of them anyway. You can find lemon myrtle in tea and spice shops. Same with common myrtle. Crape myrtle grows by the roadsides here as a landscaping plant. (If you’re me, you might even think you’re planting an elderberry start and end up with a crape myrtle instead!)

Even if you can’t grow myrtles yourself, I recommend experiencing their delightful colors, flavors, and aromas at least once. Each myrtle species and relative has their own fascinating folklore and history of use,

Ivy Folklore and Magical Properties
Plants and Herbs

Ivy Folklore and Magical Properties

J.1 Comment

Ah, ivy.

In the US, few outdoor plants are as divisive. There’s the very romantic ideal of an old, ivy-covered brick building in the Northeastern US, but also English ivy is invasive here. It’s a low-maintenance ground cover, but will also crowd out just about everything.

I wrote about vines in general a little bit ago. As I write this, I’ve just come back indoors from taking a walk around the yard and checking on how my plants’re doing. I was scoping out the raspberry canes when what to my wondering eyes should appear by a sneaky tendril of English ivy, creeping its way under the deck. With those two things in mind, I figured now might be a good time to do a deeper dive into one very specific vine: Ivy.

Ivy Magical Uses and Folklore

The ivies make up the genus Hedera. There are 12-15 distinct species within this genus, all native to Europe, eastward to Asia, and southward to northern Africa. The one that most English-speaking people think of when they hear the word “ivy” is common or English ivy, Hedera helix. (Pothos, Epipremnum aureum, is sometimes called “devil’s ivy” but is not related to Hedera. Neither is poison ivy, genus Toxicodendron.)

A dense growth of ivy covers a wall, surrounding a green door.
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

In the Ogham alphabet, the few ᚌ (gort) is said to represent ivy. The Bríatharogaim for gort is “sweetest grass,” “suitable place for cows,” and “sating of multitudes.” The word “gort” also stems from a Proto-Indo-European root meaning “enclosure.” Some Ogham readers interpret gort as “field,” rather than “ivy,” which seems to be closer to its traditional sense. When the Ogham is conceptualized as a purely tree alphabet, gort becomes ivy. This few is associated with growth, prosperity, and the winding path toward enlightenment. On the flip side, it’s also connected to the word “gorta,” meaning “hunger” or “famine.”

In Irish folk stories, ivy is often described as surrounding the entrances of caves or secret doorways. Interestingly, in this context ivy is concealing these entrances from the outside world — either as a narrative flourish to give the text some more flavor, or as a deliberate guardian and barrier between the Otherworld and this one. In some tales, ivy is a protective plant against the fae.

In ancient Greece, ivy was connected to the God of wine, frenzy, and agriculture, Dionysus. He’s often pictured with a crown of ivy as a representation of his exalted and immortal status. In one tale, it’s said that he wore an ivy wreath to curb the effects of drinking wine — while grapes are a summer vine, ivy is a cooling, wintery evergreen. Thalia, the muse of comedy, was also depicted as wearing an ivy crown.

In Egypt, ivy was a sacred plant to Osiris. Similarly to Dionysus, ivy was connected to the concepts of immortality and rebirth.

The idea of buildings covered in ivy comes from the belief that this plant could protect one’s home and family from evil, as well as bring in good luck. This belief is also where ivy door wreaths come from.

While people often overstate the effectiveness of using indoor plants to remove pollutants from the air, research has shown that ivy may help reduce numbers of airborne mold spores. More study is needed to determine how effective this would be in the average home, as well as how many plants it’d take to cause an appreciable drop in mold spores.

English ivy is considered toxic, and consumption can cause gastric upset, pain, and vomiting. Some people are allergic to ivy, and may experience severe reactions. That said, this plant has historically been used medicinally to treat respiratory issues and extracts can still be found in some modern cold and cough remedies.

As an evergreen, ivy is often used for decoration during the winter holidays. It has a perpetual connection to the sun and springtime since it never loses its color, even during the depths of winter.

Magically, this plant is associated with fertility, abundance, protection, and good fortune. Some also use it to enhance divination or improve psychic abilities.

Using Ivy

If you’re in the US, do not grow English ivy outdoors. If you’re going to grow it, pot it and keep it inside. While English ivy can be controlled with careful pruning, it can easily get out of hand and grow prolifically enough to starve and weaken trees by weighing down their limbs and blocking sunlight from reaching their leaves. It also has a habit of escaping and ending up where there isn’t anyone around to keep it pruned, damaging native forests. IWithin its native range, ivy provides food, shelter, and an increase in the biodiversity of forests. Outside of that range, it is mainly a way to slowly kill trees and turn every available surface into more ivy.

Ivy growing on a tree trunk.

If you really, really want to grow ivy in your garden, look for varieties that are considered non-invasive where you live.

Historically, the easiest ways to use ivy have been to have it near or on your front door, or even just to wear or carry a sprig. You could do this by tucking a fresh sprig in a pocket, a buttonhole, or even a hair clip whenever you go to do something that requires some extra luck and protection.

Traditionally, ivy was used to protect against supernatural entities and malevolent witchcraft. This makes it a good candidate for including in any spells, jars, or sachets intended to break or protect against hexes, jinxes, or curses.

If you do decide to keep English ivy in your home, whether live and potted or fashioned into a wreath or garland, keep it away from pets. While it does have medicinal properties, this is only when properly prepared by a skilled herbal practitioner. Otherwise, it’s considered toxic to dogs, cats, and humans.

Ivy is a beautiful little plant with a long history of symbolism behind it. As with many plants of considerable power, it needs to be treated responsibly — stay mindful of ivy’s place in (or outside of) your local environment and build a relationship with it accordingly. Whether you’re able to safely grow ivy outside, or must keep it confined to a pot indoors, this plant is a very handy and capable magical ally.

Lemon Folklore and Magical Properties
Plants and Herbs

Lemon Folklore and Magical Properties

J.1 Comment

Lemons have a rich history of folklore and magical use. In the US, it’s one of the quintessential summer fruits — owing, at least in part, to its cooling properties.

A lemon hanging from a lemon tree branch.
Photo by Samer Daboul on Pexels.com

Lemons can do more than cool you down on a hot day, though. They’re also integral to the “lemon cure” that made its way around Pinterest and other social media spaces. This involved cutting a lemon into slices, salting it, and placing it in your home to (depending on the source) remove or detect negative energy. This idea didn’t come out of nowhere, either. Lemons have historically been used to counteract evil, fight disease, and much more.

Lemon Magical Uses and Folklore

Nobody knows for sure where lemons (Citrus x limon) came from. Experts theorize that the first lemons were grown in India, and genetic studies show that they’re a hybrid between citron (Citrus medica) and bitter orange (Citrus x aurantium). Bitter oranges, in turn, are likely a cross between pomelos (Citrus maxima) and mandarins (Citrus reticulata). The name “lemon” stems from the Persian word “līmūn,” which referred to citrus fruit in general.

In American folklore, lemons were (and are) considered fruits of positive energy and purity. There are tales of lemon trees that would only bear fruit when a pure-hearted soul approached or cultivated them, and hanging a lemon above one’s front door is touted as a way to keep evil at bay.

In India, shopkeepers would hang lemons, chilis, and charcoal above their shop doors. This is a specifically designed to repel Alakshmi, a deity of misfortune and poverty. She is a dualistic figure to Lakshmi, and represents the fall that comes after pride, or the negative force that comes after increasing wealth. Her presence is said to cause malice, jealousy, and ruin.

A jar of lemon tea, sitting atop a yellow and white napkin on a wooden table.

Meanwhile, in Greece and medieval Europe, lemons were associated with luxury — after all, they had to travel a long way to get there and required very specific conditions to grow. This gave them additional connections to abundance and prosperity.

Medicinally, lemons have been used to combat illnesses like sore throats and upper respiratory infections. Historically, their juice and preserved peels were used to aid digestion.

Today, lemons are commonly used as the base for the citrus pomanders commonly seen in the US around the winter holidays. Take a lemon, stud it with dried clove buds, and there you go — a pretty, festive, and wonderful-smelling pomander. These objects weren’t always holiday decorations, however.
Their origins are quite a bit darker.
Before the germ theory of disease was developed, people believed in miasma theory. Bad smells were thought to be the culprit when it came to all kinds of sickness, and people would wear or carry pomanders to ward them off. These were usually little sachets, rings, or metal cages containing fragrant ingredients that the user would hold up to their nose in order to keep from breathing in bad odors.
While citrus pomanders are often associated with Colonial-era crafts, few American colonizers would have been able to afford to wear or decorate with perfectly good food. Decorations like this were really more of a thing around the 1900s. Some confusion arose in the 1930s, when the Rockefellers helped restore parts of Williamsburg, Virginia. The residents were told that, to preserve the town’s Colonial-era museum-like quality, they weren’t allowed to decorate for the holidays since this wouldn’t be period-appropriate. Residents eventually struck a compromise in which they were allowed to decorate in a turn-of-the-century style that used fruits and greenery instead of blinking lights.
Hence, the citrus pomander as a questionably-authentic Colonial-era holiday decoration.

Overall, lemons are strongly associated with cleansing or repelling evil and attracting prosperity. The concept of prosperity is often expanded to include all good things, including fertility. Lemons are also frequently employed as catalysts in luck formulas. Lemon blossoms, in particular, are considered a powerful attractant for positive things.

Interestingly, lemons are somewhat contradictory when it comes to love — lemon blossoms are generally a romantic ingredient, and there are also traditions that involve using lemons to secure a partner. (For example, one Sicilian-American tradition involves a woman stealing a lemon from a St. joseph altar in order to get a husband.) On the flip side, as a sour fruit, lemons are used equally as often to end a relationship and drive away an unwanted suitor. Lemons are also used for mental clarity, which is generally an antidote to the twitterpated feeling of being in love!

Using Lemons

A lemon cut into thin slices, sitting on a wooden cutting board.
Photo by RDNE Stock project on Pexels.com

One of the easiest ways to use lemons is in the lemon energy cure, as described at the top of this post. Take a good, firm, fresh lemon, and cut it into slices no more than a quarter inch thick. Sprinkle these slices with salt, and place them in the most high-traffic areas of your home — places like living rooms and dining rooms. Give the lemon a few days, then give it a look over. If it’s neatly dried, then all’s well. If it’s soft, mushy, discolored, bad-smelling, or moldy, repeat the process with a fresh lemon.

Some practitioners don’t even bother with the whole cutting and salting thing. Instead, they place whole lemons wherever necessary. If the lemons dry up, everything’s good. If they mold or decay, it’s time for a thorough cleansing and some new lemons.

Lemons are also good to add to floor, door, and window washes to remove bad or stagnant energy. Squeeze the juice of a fresh lemon into a bucket of fresh washing water and mop your home from back to front. Give your doors and windows a wipe down with the water as well.

In general, lemons are a good thing to keep around where people (especially guests) congregate. You never know what kind of energy other people are bringing in, so keeping some fresh lemons where you usually socialize is a good way to counteract any kind of negative energy that pops up. Pick up a pretty bowl from a thrift shop, add some bowl fillers and a few lemons, place it somewhere inconspicuous, and nobody’ll be the wiser.

Mugwort Folklore and Magical Properties
Plants and Herbs

Mugwort Folklore and Magical Properties

J.2 Comments

The other day, after attending the drum class I wrote about yesterday, I was waiting in the herb shop to stock up on some things I need for teas, oils, and the like. I overheard the customer in front of me talking about mugwort, and, since it’s an herb I use often, I maybe kind of eavesdropped a little bit. What followed was a really interesting conversation about herbs, dreams, lucid dreaming, dream recall, and trance work.

It was so nice to get to talk about herbs with someone outside of a purely medicinal context, that I figured that this was a good week to talk about one of my absolute favorite plants: mugwort.
(And, if you were that person, I’m so sorry for being an eavesdropping weirdo but I also had a really fun time talking to you about herbs.)

Mugwort Magical Uses and Folklore

An old statue depicting Artemis alongside a stag.
Photo by V Marin on Pexels.com

Okay, I know the name “mugwort” leaves a bit to be desired in English — it’s not exactly the most phonetically pleasing word — but its scientific name is rather beautiful: Artemisia vulgaris. The “vulgaris” in this instance means “common,” like the “wort” in “mugwort” roughly translating to “plant.” Mugwort is a very interesting, very magical, and very common plant.
The “mug” in mugwort may come from its use as an insect-repelling herb. The Old English word “mygg” is where we get the modern word “midge.” Another possibility is from its use as a flavoring herb in brewing. The “Artemisia” in Artemisia vulgaris, naturally, comes from the lunar and woodland goddess Artemis.

Mugwort was an important herb to the ancient Greeks and Romans. Soldiers and travelers would place sprigs of it into their shoes, in order to ward off fatigue.

Mugwort is very commonly included in herbal blends for dreams, psychic abilities, divination, cleansing, protection, and banishing. Like so many other herbs that are used for cleansing and banishing, this may stem from mugwort’s use as a pest repellent — it can literally banish the evils of disease brought by insects, ergo it must be useful against other evils as well. (See also: Pennyroyal.)

In Christian mythology, mugwort is associated with John the Baptist. It’s said that he carried mugwort with him to ward off evil. As a result, people would wear garlands of the herb on St. John’s Day (June 24th) and toss them into fires to ensure protection for the next year.

In some shamanic practices, mugwort is a representation of ancient wisdom. This plant is often visualized as a kind of crone figure, and used to facilitate a connection to ancestors.

A close-up of a young sprig of mugwort.
Photo by Lauri Poldre on Pexels.com

Medicinally, mugwort was (and often still is) used to help ease difficult periods, treat menstrual irregularity, and as a mild pain reliever and anti-inflammatory. Mugwort is also used in the acupuncture practice of moxibustion, in which pieces of mugwort are placed at the end of acupuncture needles and burned.

Mugwort is also part of the Nine Herbs Charm according to one source, along with plantain, lamb’s cress, fumitory, chamomile, nettle, crab apple, chervil, and fennel. In this charm, mugwort is honored as the “oldest of plants,” strong against both poison and an unnamed force that travels the land. (This may be either a personification of evil, a venomous serpent, or a specific disease, but it’s referred to simply as “the loathsome thing.”)
The Nine Herbs Charm is a beautiful piece of poetry that combines Pagan and later Christian influences in a way that passes down important medical knowledge. The charm concludes with the recipe for a healing salve made by powdering the herbs, mixing them with old soap, mixing this with lye to make a paste, and combining it with boiled fennel. The charm is sung several times during the process — three times to each herb, then over the patient’s mouth, ears, and the wound being treated.
This is not only a magical consideration, but a practical one as well. It’s considered important to declare one’s intentions in adding an herb to a magical mixture, but the number of times the incantation is sung may correspond to how long it takes to powder and mix everything correctly. Singing it once while powdering an herb, for example, may yield a coarse consistency that doesn’t properly blend. Singing it three times, on the other hand, gives you the exact length of time needed to properly powder and mix the herbs. It’s like having a portable kitchen timer that not only tells you the recipe, it tells you what each ingredient is for and makes sure you do it right.

Mugwort was also used like hops before hops were a thing in brewing. Hops didn’t really achieve widespread use until the 15th century — before that, brewers used mugwort. It’s still used in food and teas for its unique flavor, which is like a bit astringent and savory, with a really interesting resinous character. Kind of like a mix between celery, mint, and eucalyptus.

Using Mugwort

While mugwort isn’t native to the US, it’s not exactly hard to find here, either. It does have a number of lookalikes, so you’ll want to get the help of a seasoned forager to make sure that you’re correctly IDing it. Start by looking for it in ditches, by roadsides, fields, and other places where the ground has been disturbed.
(Of course, if you’re foraging mugwort in order to consume it internally, avoid any that’s growing within ten feet of a roadside. In general, it’s better to avoid foraging near roadsides at all because the soil and plants there are contaminated by vehicular pollution. Leaving the plants in place ensures that you’re not consuming any of this pollution, and also allows them to remain and continue bioremediation.)

A large clump of mugwort, absolutely thriving next to a drainage ditch full of water.
Mugwort growing beside a drainage ditch in the Norton Marshes by Evelyn Simak is licensed under CC-BY-SA 2.0

Of course, as with many other plants, I advocate for growing mugwort if you want to develop a relationship with it. However, if you’re in the US or another area where mugwort is a problem, I recommend either growing it in containers, or trying a related native species. (Like Artemisia douglasiana, California mugwort, in the western US.)
If you’re looking for mugwort’s medicinal properties, stick with A. vulgaris or other Artemisia species specifically used in herbal medicine. Different species may not have the same active compounds in the same concentrations, and some may even have some not-very-desirable qualities as well.

An old botanical illustration of a member of Artemisia.
The “Absinthe” on this illustration suggests wormword, Artemisia absinthum. However, the pointy leaves with green tops and silver undersides indicate mugwort.

Once you have some, using it is pretty easy:

  • Dry the leaves and add them to dream pillows along with herbs like lavender or chamomile. Squeeze the pillow and inhale the scent before dropping off to sleep.
  • Add dried mugwort to incense and light it before card reading, scrying, or other forms of divination.
  • Powder it fine and combine it with protective herbs, then sprinkle them in the corners of your home or around the border of your property.
  • Rub fresh mugwort on a black candle and burn it to banish a person, entity, or situation.
  • Dry whole sprigs of mugwort, tie them into bundles either alone or with other cleansing herbs, and burn to purify spaces and prepare them for ritual work.

You can consume mugwort as a tea or flavoring agent in breads, soups, poultry dishes, or beverages. However, high consumption of this herb does come with some unpleasant side effects like muscle spasms. If you’re looking to tap into mugwort’s psychic, trance, or dream benefits, you should still avoid consuming more than you’d normally get in an herbal tea, and avoid doing so for more than two weeks at a time. More isn’t always better.

If you’re pregnant or seeking to become so, avoid consuming mugwort. One of its chief medicinal uses has been to treat menstrual irregularity by stimulating uterine contractions. So, unless a qualified herbal practitioner says to use it, it’s best to avoid mugwort in these situations.

The mugwort of European folklore may not be from the US, but its invasive and resilient nature means that its probably here to stay. If you want to enjoy the long magical, mythological, culinary, and medicinal history of this herb, I recommend growing it in a container or purchasing the pre-dried herb to add to teas, incenses, sachets, or other preparations.

Vine Folklore and Magical Uses
Plants and Herbs · Uncategorized

Vine Folklore and Magical Uses

J.Leave a comment

Hello!

Close up of a purple passionflower.
Photo by kiwiicat on Pexels.com

My passionflower is loving this weather, though the rest of the plants here seem less than enthused about the whole thing. It’s not only encompassed half the porch, it’s climbed nearly up to the roof and sent out several tendrils along the lawn. If it didn’t also put out beautiful flowers and a ton of fruit, and act as a cozy little haven for sleepy bees, I’d be tempted to cut a bunch of it down.

That got me thinking — if I did, what would I do with that much passionflower? I can only tincture so much of it. Could I weave it into baskets? Turn it into rope?

Vines, in general, have a long history as religious symbols, the subject of legend and folklore, and magical ingredients. If you, too, are experiencing a sudden flush of viny plants that you don’t know what to do with, folklore may have some ideas for you.

Vine Magical Properties and Folklore

In the Ogham writing and divination system, the letter muin (ᚋ) is commonly interpreted as “vine,” and usually portrayed as either grape or ivy. However, grapes are not native to Ireland and, even when they were introduced, they never really took root there (pun intended — Ireland is not a great place to try to grow grape vines). The word “muin” also doesn’t have anything to do with vines. Instead, it refers to a thorny thicket. This has made muin one of the most controversial and seldom-agreed-upon parts of the Ogham.

The ancient Greek deity of wine, orchards, frenzy, fertility, and religious ecstasy, Dionysus, is also intimately connected to vines. (And I do mean intimately.) Not only are grape vines his domain, he is also regularly portrayed as wreathed in ivy vines. Here, the evergreen nature of ivy represents the gods’ immortality. It’s also connected to fertility and sex.

Dionysus isn’t the only one to wear an ivy crown, either. Thalia, Muse of Comedy, is also portrayed as wearing one.

In Egyptian legend, Osiris is associated with the ivy, again, because of the plant’s connection to immortality and rebirth.

There’s a Persian (now modern day Iranian) legend that tells of the origin of wine. Long, long ago, a bird dropped some seeds by a King’s feet. Intrigued, the King had the seeds planted and cared for. The seeds became sprouts, the sprouts became vines, and the vines grew heavy with grapes. Overjoyed, he had the delicious grapes picked and stored in his royal vaults.

However, grapes don’t stay fresh forever. The vault was too damp for them to dry into raisins, and too warm to chill them. Instead, the grapes began producing a dark liquid which everyone assumed was likely a deadly poison. Before the old grapes could be cleaned up and thrown away, one of the King’s wives attempted to end her life by drinking some of the grape “poison.” When the King found her later, she was far from deceased — in fact, she was dancing, singing happily, and apparently thoroughly enjoying being the first person in recorded history to ever get absolutely rocked off her tits on wine. With this evidence that the liquid was not poison and, in fact, seemed to make people quite happy, the King named it “Darou ē Shah” — The King’s Remedy.

No word on what happened to his wife, however. Therapy being in short supply thousands of years ago, one can assume she either eventually found some actual poison or developed an absolutely staggering drinking habit.

English ivy climbing a white wall.
Photo by Madison Inouye on Pexels.com

Ivy is about more than ecstasy, wine, sex, and living forever, though. One look at the growing behavior of many vines can show you exactly what else they’re good at: binding things. Even the beautiful, gentle passionflower vines climbing my front porch do so due to grasping tendrils of surprising strength and tenacity. Some vines, English ivy in particular, also get a reputation here for damaging property and killing native trees.
Depending on the context, vines are then equally as restrictive as they are freeing. Sometimes, vines are heavy with grapes and the promise of wine, intoxication, inspiration, sexual desire, and ecstasy. Sometimes, they’re ivy vines, evergreen and symbolizing enduring life and lush greenery during the winter months. Other times, they are the vines that grow around things, binding and restricting them like ropes.

Ivy is also associated with protection and healing. This may be due to its connections to immortality and rebirth. Grapes, on the other hand, are associated with fertility, money, and all things connected to the concept of abundance. Briony, on the other hand, is both money and protection. Placing money near a briony vine is said to cause it to increase.

In the tale of Sleeping Beauty, vines (sometimes) play a key role. In the Disney version, Aurora is cursed, pricks her finger, falls asleep, yadda yadda yadda, vines grow and cover everything. In an older telling, it was a dense hedge of climbing roses. One yet older version of the story (Sole, Luna, e Talia) also has Sleeping Beauty-
You know, I’ll just let Giambattista Basile tell it.

“crying aloud, he beheld her charms and felt his blood course hotly through his veins. He lifted her in his arms, and carried her to a bed, where he gathered the first fruits of love.”

Yeah. When that fails to wake her, he pulls his pants up and rides off to his castle and his already existing wife, the Queen. Sleeping Beauty only awakens again when one of the twins she subsequently births tries to nurse and accidentally sucks the splinter from her finger.
(As if that weren’t enough, the Queen gets fed up with the King’s infidelity and tries to have the children cooked and fed to her husband.)
Interestingly, vines aren’t prominent in the assault version of Sleeping Beauty — they become more important the further you get from that version, and the closer you get to Disney’s much more sanitized telling. It’s as if the presence of the vines in the story both bind Sleeping Beauty in her castle and protect her from the King.
No vines? Not even a climbing rose? You’re in for a bad time.

Using Vines

Vines make beautiful decorations for the home and altar. Evergreen ivy is commonly brought indoors during the winter months as a decoration, tied with swathes of ribbon, hung with bells or other ornaments, you name it.

Vines can also be used to bind things. Hollywood has portrayed magical bindings in some… interesting ways. For example, “binding” a witch à la The Craft.
This, however, is silly.

Bindings can go one of two ways: a person, thing, or situation may be bound (in the sense of binding someone with rope) to keep them/it from causing harm or otherwise interfering with you. You can also bind something to yourself. For example, a really great job that you just got, happen to enjoy, and want to make sure that you keep.

In this case, the binding is a form of sympathetic magic. You take a representation of the thing you wish to bind, and effectively tie it up with what you have on hand. (This may be vines, if you want to enlist the vine’s help and magical associations, but can also just be household twine in a pinch.) There are plenty of chants and incantations you can recite while doing so, but I find that it’s most effective if you speak from the heart — inform the subject why they are being bound, and what you hope will come of it. Put it in a jar or box, close it tightly, and keep it somewhere safe so you can undo the binding when the time comes.

To bind something to yourself, you’d use a representation of yourself (like a photo or lock of hair) and a representation of what you wish to bind to you. Wrap both objects together with the vines or string, again speaking from the heart while you do so. Place the objects in a jar or box and keep them somewhere safe.

Bindings aren’t the only type of sympathetic magic that vines are good at, though. Plant a vine (preferably not an invasive species — there are loads of native vines) along with a representation of something you wish to grow. Ask for the vine’s help, and declare that, as the vine grows, so shall grow the thing you desire. Take good care of that vine, and keep an eye on its growth.

While every species of plant has its own magical uses and depictions in legend and folklore, vines are in a class of their own. Each one has their own unique properties, but vining plants also have plenty of common ground.

Angelica Root Folklore and Magical Uses
Plants and Herbs

Angelica Root Folklore and Magical Uses

J.Leave a comment

Recently, my Handsome Assistant experienced a minor vehicular mishap. He was on a motorcycle, so things could’ve been a lot worse, but his injuries weren’t too serious and he’s recovering well.

When he first got his bike, I made him a safe travel charm that he’s kept with him everywhere he rides. He’s dodged the “serious motorcycle accident” bullet, and it could use a refresh. This got me thinking about protective charms in general, which, naturally, led me to what’s probably one of the strongest of them all: angelica root.

Seriously. It’s probably a little too good at what it does, but more on that below.

Angelica Magical Properties and Folklore

An old botanical illustration of angelica. The caption at the bottom reads, "Angelica aquatica radice odoratissima floribus ex alboflavescentibus. Ital. Angelica maggiore odorata. Gall. Angelique."

Also known as wild celery, masterwort, and archangel, angelica (Angelica archangelica) and celery are related as members of the family Apiaceae. Angelica archangelica is native to far northern Europe and Russia. Another species known as angelica, masterwort, or purple-stemmed angelica (Angelica atropurpurea) is native to wet areas in the eastern US.

The name angelica derives from the plant’s blooming period. Its flowers typically appear around Michaelmas, the feast of the Christian Archangel Michael.

In both Western European folklore and the Hoodoo tradition, angelica is associated with protection, particularly from evil spirits. It’s also occasionally used to break hexes, jinxes, or curses, depending on their nature.

Purple-stemmed angelica (A. atropurpurea) has a long history of use as both a sacred and medicinal plant by Indigenous people of the southeastern US. It could calm anxiety, ease back pains, soothe stomach trouble, and treat parasites in children. It’s also used in healing ceremonies and as a purification herb. This puts purple-stemmed angelica in the same group as many other purification herbs the world over — namely, herbs that both drive off evil or unwanted energy, and get rid of physical parasites or pests.

Angelica is also sometimes associated with luck, love, and psychic abilities. This may be because it’s so good at keeping unwanted interference at bay — combined with other herbs more directly suited to these purposes, it can keep one’s magical path clear.

On the other hand, angelica also has a reputation for being a bit too good at what it does. According to the (no longer extant) Pooka Pages’ “Concerning the Magical Properties of Herbs & Oils,” angelica may also keep away some things that you do want. If you’re attempting to use it to help you attract something into your life, it’s a good idea to keep this in mind — sometimes, those things aren’t without risk, so angelica may not be the best choice.

An angelica relative, A. sinensis, is also known as lady ginseng or dong quai. It grows in cool, mountainous areas of east Asia, and has a long history of use in Chinese medicine.

Using Angelica

Honestly, there are few protective charms more convenient than a whole angelica root. They’re sort of lumpy and oblong, but firm, compact, and easy to stash in a pocket, bag, sachet, or any other container. I’ve never had one that was crumbly or messy, either.

Hold it in your dominant hand, tell it what you’d like it to do, project this thought, request, or energy into the root, thank it for its help, and you’re good to go. You can also anoint it with an oil, if you’d like.

You can hang a whole angelica root over your front and back doors to keep unwanted forces out or bury a root at each corner of your property.

A budding wild angelica plant (Angelica sylvestris).

Soak an angelica root in water, then add the water to a floor or door wash, sprinkle it in corners of a room, or pour it along the borders of your property to ward off evil and strengthen magical boundaries.

Angelica roots also make lovely additions to protective oils themselves. Put it in a neutral carrier oil and let it infuse in a cool, dark, dry area, shaking it regularly. If you want a stronger fragrance, add essential oils just before you bottle the finished product. For this, you might want angelica root pieces rather than the whole root — it’ll have an easier time transferring its fragrance to the oil if it has more surface area.

Since the roots are fragrant themselves, and hold other fragrances well, they’re great additions to potpourri or other scented herb mixtures.

You can also eat A. archangelica stems and roots. However, you may not be able to find them in your local grocery store, and they can be challenging to identify in the wild. They have several poisonous lookalikes, so you should never consume anything that you’ve only tentatively identified as angelica. Unless you’re an expert forager yourself, get an expert forager’s opinion first. As the saying goes, you should be as confident identifying a wild edible as you would be identifying it in a grocery store. Otherwise, don’t eat it.

Angelica may not be the most versatile magical plant, but it’s one worth knowing. It’s one of the best at what it does, sometimes to the point of being too effective. It’s one of those herbs that I find it’s better to have on hand and not need, than to need and not have on hand. Whole roots aren’t too expensive, and you can use them to steep in water for magical baths, washes, or asperging, infuse them in oil, or use them whole as protective talismans.

Mushroom Folklore and Magical Uses
Neodruidry · Plants and Herbs · Witchcraft

Mushroom Folklore and Magical Uses

J.Leave a comment

I like mushrooms. Not so much culinarily, but aesthetically and conceptually.

There are thousands of identified mushroom species, but experts estimate that the number of actual species out there is anywhere from two to three times what we’ve managed to identify. Others say it could be in the millions.

Mushrooms have a long history of use in spiritual and magical practices around the world. Giving the folklore and uses of every known species is outside of the scope of this post, but I thought it’d be interesting to give an overview of some of the most unique, recognizable, and significant kinds.

Mushroom Magical Properties and Folklore

People typically consider mushrooms and toadstools two different things, but there isn’t really a hard line between them since these are folk names. According to various sources, mushrooms are edible, and toadstools are inedible. Or else mushrooms are edible and umbrella-shaped, while toadstools are inedible and have round caps. Or toadstools are inedible and large-capped, etc.
This can be particularly confusing because there are several species of variable edibility — some are considered edible only when cooked. Some need to be leached with water to be edible. Some are only poisonous if consumed with alcohol. Some aren’t considered edible, but aren’t really poisonous either.

Amanita muscaria, the iconic red- (or tan- or yellow-) capped, white-spotted mushroom, is also called “fly agaric.” This is because it was sprinkled in milk and used as a poisonous bait for flies and gnats.

A small Amanita muscaria growing in some leaf litter.
Photo by Guy Dwelly on Pexels.com

Sami shamans traditionally have a unique way of processing A. muscaria. The mushrooms are fed to reindeer, and the psychoactive components are passed in their urine. Instead of the potentially dangerous mushrooms, the shamans use the urine to access fly agaric’s powerful qualities.

While it’s natural to associate psychoactive fungi with the spirit world, they aren’t the only mushrooms said to serve as a gateway. The famous fairy rings of Western European stories are circles or arcs of fungi (with or without visible mushrooms) that, were you to enter one, could bring you either good luck or incredible danger.

In Egypt, mushrooms were associated with immortality. In Japan and China, they have similar connotations due to their use as medicinal foods for increasing strength and longevity.

In Slavic mythology, the guardian deity of forests, Leshy, can appear as a fully vegetation-based entity. He may appear as anything from a sacred tree to a mushroom. Mushrooms are also associated with the earth, water, cattle, and underworld deity, Veles.

In Lithuania, mushrooms were said to be the fingers of Velnias, a deity of the dead. He would reach up from the underworld, beneath the soil, to feed the poor.

This isn’t the only association of mushrooms with charity, either. In one Christian myth, God and Saint Peter walk in a rye field. Peter takes a handful of rye and begins to eat it, but God scolds him for taking food that isn’t meant for him. Peter spits the chewed rye out, and God says that a mushroom will grow there as food for the poor.

Interestingly, the dead and the underworld seem to have the strongest connection to mushrooms around the world. The Sidhe of the Celts and the Alfar of the Germanic people were both associated with burial sites, and the beliefs surrounding them may be the last vestiges of ancient, indigenous ancestor worship. This would immediately associate fungal phenomena like fairy rings with the dead.

A trio of small brown mushrooms growing from a tuft of moss.
Photo by Johannes Havn on Pexels.com

So, on one hand, edible mushrooms are gifts from the dead to feed the living. On the other, the inedible ones will allow you to meet the dead!

This connection continues with the crane bag of Manannán mac Lir. In addition to being a God of the Sea, Manannán is also a guardian of the underworld. The crane bag is a bag he fashioned from a crane skin that contains several magical tools. According to many Ogham readers, these tools are indicated in the forfeda — the four additional letters at the end of the Ogham alphabet. Iphin (ᚘ) is the crossed “bones of Assail’s swine.” These were pigs that could be slaughtered and eaten and would regenerate again.
Robert Graves theorized that these swine were metaphorical, and the bones were not bones at all — they were the stems of mushrooms, discarded once the caps had been eaten or used in ritual. Since mushrooms are just fungal fruiting bodies, and picking them doesn’t harm the actual organism in the soil, it made perfect sense that they would “regenerate” so they could be consumed again.

Because mushrooms seem to spring up out of nowhere after a rain, they’re also thought to represent fertility.

Mushrooms in general are associated with the element of Earth. Planetarily, they’re associated with the Moon. The fly agaric, specifically, is associated with the element of Air and the planet Mercury.

Using Mushrooms

First, I want to say that “there are old mushroom foragers, and there are bold mushroom foragers, but there are no old, bold mushroom foragers.”

If you aren’t an experienced mushroom hunter yourself, and don’t have access to one willing to take you in the field and help you positively ID mushrooms, do not attempt to harvest them yourself. There are way too many poisonous lookalikes out there, some of which can only be differentiated by spore prints or tiny, easily missed differences in appearance.

A cluster of small, thin, white mushrooms of uncertain type.
Photo by Chris G on Pexels.com

That said, simply touching a poisonous mushroom is unlikely to elicit a toxic response. However, it can still give you an allergic reaction, so you should still probably not do that.

Now, with that out of the way…

Unless you have access to a reindeer or a shaman, you should probably stick to the non-entheogenic varieties. I would also avoid commercially produced edibles intended for microdosing muscimol (a psychoactive compound). While not all brands are suspect, it seems some haven’t quite got the science figured out yet and several people have become extremely ill (and possibly even died) from using them. I wouldn’t use them myself and I don’t want bad things to happen to people, so I can’t recommend you do, either.

Also, if you drink alcohol, be careful which mushroom species you work with. Some are considered edible — delicious, even — but contain a compound that reacts with alcohol to cause some very unpleasant symptoms.

Otherwise, mushrooms are a suitable offering for deities of the dead and of forests. They’re also a good ritual food for workings relating to these deities or concepts.

You can place dried mushrooms in objects like charm bags, sachets, or spell jars, but with a bit of caution — they’re basically like sponges and will pretty readily absorb moisture and get gross if you aren’t careful to keep them dry. Other than that, go to town.

Whether you enjoy eating fungi or not, they’re fascinating organisms that form the foundation of life on Earth. Without them, other plants couldn’t grow. They’re a gift to the living from dead and decayed things, and, as such, are deserving of reverence.

Vervain Folklore and Magical Uses
Neodruidry · Plants and Herbs · Witchcraft

Vervain Folklore and Magical Uses

J.Leave a comment

Vervain (Verbena officinalis) is a prominent herb in European folk and ceremonial magic. Its roots also extend to American Hoodoo.

Though most old grimoires mean V. officinalis when they refer to vervain, there are actually about 80 species in the genus Verbena. In my area (and all of the continental US, and fair bit of Canada) we have Verbena hastata, also known as blue vervain. While it’s not the same plant, you’ll often find V. hastata labeled simply as “vervain” in metaphysical contexts.

Lemon verbena, Aloysia citrodora, is also a member of the Verbenaceae family. However, since it’s a somewhat more distant relative, I wanted to limit this post to V. officinalis and V. hastata.

Vervain Magical Properties and Folklore

Vervain is sometimes called “the enchanter’s plant,” since it’s one of the most versatile herbs in European magic. Even outside of Europe, it was (and continues to be) considered a plant of considerable medicinal and spiritual significance.

As John Gerard wrote in 1597,

Many odd old wives’ tales are written of Vervain tending to witchcraft and sorcery, which you may read elsewhere, for I am not willing to trouble your ears with supporting such trifles as honest ears abhor to hear.

Magically, it’s used for purification, protection, divination, peace, luck, love, and wealth. It’s a pretty solid all-purpose herb that is often added to formulas to increase their power.

The name vervain comes from the Latin “verbena,” which refers to leaves or twigs of plants used in religious ceremonies. This, in turn, came from the Proto-Indo-European root “werbh,” meaning to turn or bend.
I have also seen the origins of the word vervain given as a Celtic word “ferfaen,” meaning to drive stones away. However, I haven’t found strong evidence for this origin — all attempts to look up “ferfaen” only yield articles claiming it as the word origin of “vervain,” and most of them only give “Celtic” as the language of origin. One source did cite the Cymric words “ferri” and “maen” as a possible origin, with the word “maen” mutating over time into “faen” to eventually yield “ferfaen.” (Upon further searching, I was not able to find the word “ferri,” though I did find “fferi,” meaning “ferry.” This would give the word “ferfaen” a meaning closer to “ferry away stone(s).”)
Nonetheless, the etymological sources I looked at gave “verbena” as the origin of vervain, not “ferfaen.”

A close-up of vervain flowers.
Photo by Tom Fisk on Pexels.com

Pliny the Elder credited vervain with quite a lot of magical properties. According to him, it was used to cleanse and purify homes and altars. He claimed the Gaulish people used it in a form of divination, and that Magi said that people rubbed with vervain would have their wishes granted, fevers cooled, friends won, and diseases cured.
Interestingly, he also pointed out that vervain was considered a bit of a party plant, for when dining-couches were sprinkled with water infused with vervain “the entertainment becomes merrier.”

While vervain is strongly associated with the Druids, they didn’t leave a whole lot of records of their activities behind. What we do know is largely through sources like Pliny, and it’s likely because of writers like him that vervain became strongly connected to the ancient Druids.

For the best potency, vervain should be gathered in a specific fashion. It’s best cut between the hours of sunset and sunrise, during the dark moon. Like many other herbs harvested for their leaves, it’s best to cut the leaves before the flowers open. After cutting, it’s best to offer some fresh milk or honey to the plant.

Vervain is thought to be the origin of the name “Van van oil.” While the van van oil recipes I’ve seen don’t include vervain or vervain oil, it’s possible that the Verbena family loaned its name, nonetheless. (In that case, it was most likely lemon verbena, vervain’s citrus-scented South American cousin.)

Vervain is also one of those contradictory herbs that is simultaneously said to be used by witches, but also effective against witchcraft.

In the very distant past, bards would use brews of vervain to enhance their creativity and draw inspiration.

Medicinally, vervain is an emetic, diuretic, astringent, alterative, diaphoretic, nervine, and antispasmodic. According to Hildegard of Bingen, a poultice of vervain tea was good for drawing out “putridness” from flesh.

Using Vervain

Soak some vervain in water, then use the stems to asperge an area, person, or object that you wish to cleanse. It’s also an excellent addition to ritual baths for this purpose.

A cup filled with dried herbs.
Photo by lil artsy on Pexels.com

Sprigs of vervain are also worn as protective amulets, specifically against malevolent magic. Tie a bit with some string, put it in a sachet, and carry it with you. Tuck a sprig of it in the band of a hat. Use a small bud vase necklace and wear a bit of vervain like jewelry.

Planting vervain around your property is said to ward off evil and guard against damage from bad weather. If you choose to do this, please select a variety of vervain native to your area — in most of the US, V. hastata is a safe bet.

V. officinalis is often used medicinally, V. hastata is considered both medicinal and edible, but avoid consuming it if you’re pregnant, trying to become pregnant, or are breastfeeding. Talk to a qualified herbalist if you have any chronic conditions, or routinely take any medications. Avoid consuming a lot of it, since it is an emetic. It’s also important to be sure that the herb you’re working with is really V. hastata or V. officinalis — there are plenty of Verbena species that don’t offer the same benefits.

Vervain is a powerful plant, as long as you know which member of Verbenaceae you’re looking at. If you have the ability to grow a native vervain, by all means do so — these plants are tall, with interesting-looking flower spikes. They’re also easy to dry and store, ensuring that you’ll always have a stockpile of this powerfully magical plant.

Zucchini Folklore and Magical Uses
Plants and Herbs

Zucchini Folklore and Magical Uses

J.Leave a comment

It’s that time of year!

Have you been visited by a Zucchini Fairy yet? It’s a little early, but I have it on good authority that there have been a few of them about.
Zucchini Fairies are magical creature known to visit neighborhoods where at least one person has planted zucchini. Overnight, a Zucchini Fairy scopes out these gardens and, the next day, all of that person’s neighbors wake up to boxes of unasked-for zucchini on their doorsteps.
They’re very mysterious creatures. In fact, nobody’s ever seen one. All that’s known about them is that they are most definitely not the neighborhood zucchini-grower attempting to get rid of some of the absolutely outrageous number of vegetables that their plants put out.

Ahem.

Three zucchini on a wood table.
Photo by Angele J on Pexels.com

Honestly, zucchini are really great plants for beginning gardeners. They’re both prolific and easy to grow, so it’s not hard to end up with an absolute buttload of fresh zucchini. You can make them into noodles (aptly named “zoodles”), roast them, slice them thin and fry them, or even bake them into desserts. If you’re more magically inclined, you can also tap into their metaphysical properties.

Zucchini Magical Properties and Folklore

The zucchini we have come to know and love was developed in Italy in the 19th century but did not originate there. It’s one of many plants that came from the Americas and underwent generations of selective breeding to arrive at its current form. Because the modern zucchini is relatively new, there’s not a lot of traditional herb lore around it.

In some areas, locals warn that you should never leave your car windows open during zucchini season. You may return to find your car packed full of it (probably by Zucchini Fairies).

(On a related note, August 8th is official Sneak Zucchini onto Your Neighbor’s Porch Day. I’m not doing zucchini this year, so, if you live near me, yas better strap in for some pumpkins instead.)

While squash is one of the Three Sisters in the traditional foodways of many Indigenous American cultures, that involves other species of squash and not what we picture when we hear the word “zucchini.” Combining corn, beans, and squash creates a food ecosystem in which each plant is fed, supported, and protected. In some Indigenous agricultural practices, each of the three plants is believed to be looked after by one of the Three Sister Spirits. These Spirits are three siblings who were never apart in life — so now, the Three Sister plants much always be planted together, eaten together, and celebrated together as sustainers of life.

If you intend to eat zucchini more or less as-is, seasoned growers suggest picking it when it’s between 6-8″ in length. When it becomes larger, it can get a bit seedy and lose its tenderness. Don’t worry, though — the bigger, tougher zucchini are still delicious when grated and made into breads, cakes, or fritters, so they don’t need to go to waste.

A zucchini ripening on the vine, with the blossom still attached.
Photo by Karolina Grabowska on Pexels.com

Due to its prolific nature, zucchini is commonly used in magic for fertility and abundance.

Zucchini is associated with the element of Earth. Practitioners who use the masculine/feminine energy dichotomy also associate this plant with “feminine” energy.

Using Zucchini

It’s possible to pick zucchini leaves or flowers to use in things like sachets or jar spells, if you wish. You can also batter and fry the flowers, which are delicious.

Personally, I prefer to leave the leaves and flowers where they are. I find the leaves unpleasant to touch, and the plant needs them more than I do. The flowers also provide food and shelter for pollinators — at night, squash bees like to crawl up inside them just before the flowers close. It gives them a safe, cozy little sleeping bag to curl up in.

As for the vegetables themselves… They’re not exactly the kind of thing you’ll be tucking into your dream pillows or anything (though that mental image is hilarious). So, in lieu of all that, here’s a fantastic recipe for egg-free, dairy-free, nut-free zucchini bread. It also uses cinnamon, which is considered a magical catalyst and love/money herb. Project your intention into the batter as you mix it, and you’ll have a delicious loaf of abundance and prosperity magic when you’re done!

Easy and Tasty Vegan Zucchini Bread

Dry Ingredients

  • 1 cup white einkorn flour (or use regular wheat flour)
  • 1/2 cup whole grain einkorn flour
  • 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1 teaspoon cinnamon
  • 1 tablespoon ground flaxseed
  • A whole bunch of chocolate chips, walnuts, or anything else you’d like to mix in (optional)

Wet Ingredients

  • 1/4 cup avocado oil (or other oil or fat source of your choice)
  • 2/3 cup maple syrup
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 1 C grated zucchini

Directions

  1. Preheat your oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.
  2. While that happens, whisk or sift together your dry ingredients.
  3. Add your wet ingredients and mix thoroughly. (If you’re using regular wheat flour instead of einkorn, you may wish to add a little extra oil, maple syrup, or a few tablespoons of a milk of your choice — einkorn typically requires less liquid than regular flour.)
  4. Spread the batter in a well-greased loaf pan. Bake for 50-55 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
  5. Allow to cool, slice, and serve. I like it with a little of the Date Lady’s chocolate spread.

Whether you’re visited by the Zucchini Fairy, are your local Zucchini Fairy, or purchase your zucchini from the grocery store, these versatile vegetables are a great way to inexpensively pad out pretty much any recipe you can think of. Breakfast? Zucchini muffins. Lunch? Zoodles and pesto. Dinner? Roasted zucchini as a side. Dessert? Chocolate chip zucchini bread. Focus on the abundant, fertile, and prolific nature of these amazing plants, and invite their energy into your life.

Hen and Chicks Folklore and Magical Uses
Plants and Herbs

Hen and Chicks Folklore and Magical Uses

J.Leave a comment

Do you have little to no success with plants?
Do you want to get into gardening, but lack confidence?
Hoo boy, are hen and chicks succulents made for you.

Members of the genus Sempervivum, these succulents are also known as “live forever” or “houseleek.” They have the plump leaves of your average succulent but can thrive in growing zones 9-4. I have one that I stuck in a pot on my deck and did literally nothing for — not even water — and it’s filled the pot, put out tons of little green pups, and is flowering like there’s no tomorrow.

A top-down view of a Sempervivum plant in a pink pot. In the center of the photo, several pink flowers and buds are visible.
A close up of that plant’s first flowers. In the background, you can kind of see other buds emerging on their talk stalks.

Along with their easygoing nature, hen and chicks plants have some interesting folklore and usages in magical disciplines.

Hen and Chicks Magical Properties and Folklore

Let’s look at their common names first. “Hen and chicks” derives from their most notable method of reproduction — in addition to producing seeds, they send off little offsets in the form of round rosettes which give the impression of a large mother “hen” plant surrounded by baby “chicks.” They’re called “live forever” because they’re evergreen and very difficult to kill. Lastly, the name “houseleek” has no relation to the other plants known as leeks. Instead, the word “leek” comes from the Anglo-Saxon word “leac,” meaning “plant.”

As for why they’re called something that literally translates to “house plant,” there’s an excellent reason for this. Hen and chicks plants were (and are) frequently grown on houses. (When I lived in California, the house I stayed in had some lovely Sempervivum growing on the roof.) This practice originated with the belief that these plants helped to ward off fire and lightning strikes.

These plants are also associated with prosperity, health, and luck. Possibly as an extension of their fire- and lightning-protective connections, some cultures grew Sempervivum on roofs as a way to ensure the health and wealth of a house’s occupants. In Wales, these plants are still sometimes grown on roofs for luck.

(Of course, if you live in the US and have an average modern shingle roof, you may not want to grow plants there. Excess moisture could cause problems, and using your roof as an ersatz garden could void your warranty. Sempervivum are great for green roofs, however.)

As for warding off fire and lightning strikes, there are a few reasons for this. Some species of Sempervivum grow fine, snow-white hairs on them, that look a bit like fine wool or thick cobwebs, and their growth habit can make them resemble a jutting, sculpted beard. This is reflected in the German name “Donnerbart,” or “Thunder beard.” These plants are connected to various thunder deities, like Thor and Zeus.

Sempervivums clinging to a rock face.
Photo by Honglei Yue on Pexels.com

The other reason behind it is that Sempervivum can act less as a protector than as an indicator. These plants can thrive in very dry areas, but they still need some moisture to stay plump and green. The presence of healthy hen and chicks plants generally indicates that conditions aren’t conducive to combustion.

Houseleeks are also used to ward off attacks by malevolent magic.

Medicinally, Sempervivum plants are used similarly to Aloe vera. Topically, it is sometimes a treatment for cuts, burns, or warts. This herb was also considered a very useful treatment for diarrhea, while larger doses were a powerful emetic. Traditionally, it’s considered a very cooling herb.

Elementally, Sempervivum is associated with Fire. It is also connected to all thunder deities.

Using Hen and Chicks

From everything I’ve seen, Sempervivum‘s protective and lucky magical attributes are best employed by simply growing them. Give them a sunny spot and some well-draining soil in the right growing zones, and they’re pretty much good to go. (Of course, if you intend to use your hen and chicks plants in this fashion, it’s good form to ask them for their help.)

While these plants aren’t native to the US, I have noticed that they seem to be a favorite of small native pollinators. So far, I’ve seen three different species of sweat bee. They’re also useful for xeriscaping in especially challenging areas.

As I mentioned previously, you may want to avoid growing them on your roof. Yes, it’s very picturesque and cottagecore, and yes, it’s traditional, but having to pay upwards of five grand to fix or replace a modern shingle roof is none of those things. Plants trap moisture, which roofs need to shed. Their roots can infiltrate minute gaps between shingles, widening them and allowing water in. It may not happen immediately, but growing plants directly on a conventional roof, without any kind of barrier or container between the two, is generally not a good idea.
If you have a flat spot near your roof, like a windowsill, window box, or balcony, stick a couple Sempervivum plants in terracotta pots and put them there instead.

As for using them internally, I don’t recommend it. If you have a minor burn and don’t have a fresh aloe leaf handy, by all means, try applying some Sempervivum goop topically. Using these plants as an anti-diarrheal or purgative has largely dropped off in favor of other remedies, even in alternative medicine.

Hen and chicks plants are adorable, inexpensive, and exceptionally hard to kill. Magically, they’re just cute little protective and luck-drawing charms. If you have the space to devote to one (or a few), they’re well worth their tiny investment of time and money.