Tag: stinging nettle

Taking The Sting Out Of Self-Quarantine: Stinging Nettle

Baby stinging nettle.

So I am definitely in self-quarantine due to possible exposure to COVID-19. It is only a slight possibility, but I feel like acting from an abundance of caution is the move here.

Side note: if you have ever wondered what the Baltimore accent sounds like, you could either come talk to my neighbor Clarence, who is Hampden born-and-raised, or you could simply say these two words out loud: corn teen. That’s what happens when you get the COVID, hon. You go inna corn teen.

As it was rainy and cold on Wednesday (the day of this missive), I asked KWeeks if he might like to meet me at Lake Roland for a no-contact social distancing hike in search of stinging nettle. We found some on our last walk there, but I was not prepared to harvest. Now, any excuse to walk around at a safe distance from all other bipeds was enticing.

Side note, part deux: There was only one empty car in the parking lot when I arrived, and although we did pass a total of four people on our way into the woods, I stepped way aside and held my breath. #SafetyFirst

If you are an herbalist or have even a passing fancy for plant medicine, you know that I should have started tincture making back in January, or last March when everything was popping out of the ground, well in advance of a time when I might actually need them. But today I am thinking of the Chinese proverb:

The best time to plant a tree is 20 years ago. The second best time is now.

So consider my wildcrafted tincture product the second-best time to plant a tree.

Stinging nettle is a powerhouse of a wild plant. If you forage only one plant, let it be this one. Just be careful – wear gloves to protect yourself during harvest.

KWeeks and I walked in the damp, empty woods and talked about how awful everything is. I found massive patches of nettle, which is great because I will return to harvest more for nettle pesto the next time it rains.

Another bonus of rainy woods is the lack of danger noodles. KWeeks and I saw two on our last foray to Lake Roland, a big one and a smaller one, and I am not a fan. So cold and damp + no people + no snek = fear-free foraging.

When we parted ways, I returned home and cleaned and roughly chopped most of the stinging nettle, packing it in a pint jar before covering it with an assortment of whiskeys.

This lovely human I found on the YouTube validated my choice of lower-proof whiskey but did point out that it will take six to eight weeks to fully extract the medicine of the plant – double what my last post said.

It’s ok. I am a learning robot and can make changes accordingly.

I started to dry the remaining handful of stinging nettle dry in the oven on a rack and will let it finish in my studio. Stinging nettle is good for wheezing and lung issues – perfect timing for a pandemic. It’s good for tea, but you can also smoke it – an excellent choice for the wavering former smoker that is me.

In nine days, with no symptoms, I can hold the hand of KWeeks again and walk in the sunshine. Until then, it’s rainy walks for me only.

May You Live In Interesting Times: Stinging Nettle

Small but mighty: stinging nettle.

Today Khristian Weeks and I went for a long walk at Lake Roland. Which was great, except it seemed that many other people had the same idea for a long walk before the rain comes tonight.

And then halfway through our walk it struck me that our bodies have become weaponized with this virus. I didn’t really want to be close to people out walking, and any time anyone sneezed it felt dangerous.

Another walker passing by commented that it sure is a shitty time to have allergies. #heard

But then there is the other side of this, the positive things that are beginning to emerge from this ongoing (and much longer than we think, IMVHO) crisis. The U.S. has figured out that yes, we can help everyone, from the poor to the elderly to the uninsured, if we put our mind (and our priorities) to it.

Companies like &pizza are leading the way when it comes to putting workers before profits (and supporting hospital workers), and even nature is beginning to take a deep breath without the constant corrupting influence of humans.

Maybe we are even beginning to appreciate some of the things we have taken for granted. Freedom of movement. Comfort. Toilet paper.

Calm the fuck down on that last one, people. Good lord.

Anyway.

Towards the end of our walk, I spied a little spiky plant next to the path – stinging nettle. Long reviled as an evil weed, this plant is arguably one of the most nutrient-dense plant foods available in the wild. Not only is stinging nettle delicious as food, cooked to remove the sting, but the root extract also helps to relieve allergy symptoms. There is not a ton of research on this, but some studies have been promising. Proceed with caution, as it can also, ironically, cause allergy symptoms.

Stinging nettle is also anti-inflammatory and can be used in tea to treat joint pain.

So this little plant seems to sum up our current global crisis. Yes, there are barbs that must be dealt with, preferably gently and with great care, but in the end there may be innumerable benefits if we can just bring ourselves to look past the prickly outside (and since the virus itself looks spiky, this is also a skillful metaphor. I had the phrase “very skillful metaphor,” but decided it was more obvious than skillful and so eliminated the “very”).

And there we are. Today’s missive, literally from the field.

Wash your hands, don’t touch your face, and cough into your elbow. And take an allergy pill before you go for a walk.