Feature Articles

 

Walking with the Bones

by EagleSong, C.C.H.

A golden-crowned kinglet flits through the bones of the salmonberry. Flying must be so much easier when leaves are but memories of summer past. While it may be easier to fly through leafless branches, it also increases vulnerability. Winter exposes stark structural aspects in the garden. When the winds of time blow the leaves away, we are faced with "dem bones." The inner form is now apparent, what the garden is built upon is now seeable. This is a wonderful time to walk outside.

As you button up your coat and snuggle your muffler around your throat, prepare to enter that naked, exposed place: that place close to the bones. Dawn or dusk is a great time to do this "walking with the bones" exercise. Take a moment to stand in the gateway, the place between. Behind you, feel the warmth and comfort of inside; before you, feel the elements. Is it cold, sunny, wet, windy? Now tune up your eyeballs to see what you see every time you walk outside, only today take time to look, to really look at the bones around you. You don’t need to go far from home; take a moment to really see what’s right out your front door.

Are there small, thin, twisted skeletons where the winter wren hides; do you hear its song? Can you see through half-dead blackberry leaves to the tangled structure inside? Keep walking, looking, listening. Are there small bushes with brightly colored bark, maybe red- or yellow-twigged dogwoods? They love the winter chill intensifying their colors as if to shout their skeletal joy. Do you see any fuzzy-barked trunks, sumac possibly? Do the branches come out of the trunks alternately, or are they opposite one another? Maybe they’re whorled all the way around like pines. How do your limbs attach to your trunk? Are there flowers or catkins on the branches? What is the quality of the light bouncing off the surface of the plants around you?

Now look at the big trees around you. What shapes do the bones imply? Pyramidal, columnar, rounded or irregular? Do the branches droop? Get up close to a large-trunked tree. What patterns are there? Are the different colors other life forms, lichens or mosses possibly? Get even closer; do you see tiny creatures, bugs? Imagine what the kinglet sees as its tiny feet grasp bark and branch and its wee beak bites here and there.

It’s winter; the dance moves more slowly, but is still going on around us and within. Step back and look at the wholeness of the winter scene before you. Now the skeletons are visible, but in them are the buds of tomorrow’s springtime swelling. Soon the leaves will burst the casings that protected them through the cold, dark days of winter.

I look back at the garden as I move through the gateway to the warmth and comfort inside. A shiver runs through me; is it the thrill of spring or the chill of winter? The last remaining bones in the garden have been cut back. The tough-stemmed perennials and tall sunflowers held their own while the chickadees and sparrows diligently worked the last seeds from the calyxes. Now the garden’s bones go back to earth as the base of young compost grows under the alders.

Inside, I think about the season as I sip steaming chicken soup. I see how vulnerable people’s health becomes in winter. Colds, flus, aches, and pains seem to seep in as if we are as naked as the trees. I want to understand health and nature. What is immunity, I ponder? I turn to Webster’s, where I read "a condition of being able to resist a particular disease." It goes on to state "esp. through preventing development of a pathogenic microorganism or by counteracting the effects of its products." This works in the Western germ theory model, but falls short of the possibility of a living system geared to adaptation in varied circumstances. We know that microorganisms do not cause all disease, so how can we enlarge the definition to cultivate a more rounded vision of immunity?

Let’s look at immunity as an organism’s ability to distinguish itself from something else, and recognize this discernment as an internal system for monitoring and responding to various inputs in a way that preserves the integrity of the organism. While this definition includes rejection of pathogens, it also contains the ability to absorb and integrate beneficial inputs.

The immune system, then, is a pivotal place to build health. It is about vibrancy, vitality, and expression. It uses the mechanisms of exclusion, inclusion, digestion, assimilation, and integration to expand an organism to its full potential. Therefore, anything that enhances the unique expression of you, with harm to none, will generate immune health.

Your immune system is enhanced each time you clarify and define yourself. Take walks in the brisk winter air, hone your skills of observation, fine tune your inner landscape, and participate in the world around you, and your immune system is exercised. Choose foods and herbs that are generative for your personal constitution, protect your integrity, and strengthen, yes, your immune system! We begin to see that immunity isn’t just getting the right shots at the right time; it requires participation and response-ability to daily life and to the chapters of our extended and changing lives in a changing world.

Echinacea is an herb people associate with the immune system. Many people use echinacea at the onset of symptoms of illness, so it is still a "this for that" action in a pathogenic framework. This system works, and can be employed in an acute episode to good effect. Sometimes a cold or flu is nothing more than the immune system getting a little exercise. The signs that this is so are: 1) The symptoms come on quickly; 2) There may or may not be fever; and 3) The situation resolves relatively fast. If it moves deeper into the body and lingers on or reoccurs, that is a signal that the immune response is slow and could use strengthening. Herbs, foods, and practices that offer deep, long-term benefit to the whole system and are able to positively influence physiological processes can be used to good effect in chronic circumstances. They can also be used to avert such circumstances!

Here is a recipe for an old standby, chicken soup, with an herbal twist. Integrated into the diet on a regular basis, (three or four times a month) it nourishes the body’s ability to fend off disease and maintain integrity. Chicken broth is a time-honored convalescent food; freeze some to have on hand as needed.

Chicken Soup with a Twist

1 old stewing hen or whole organic chicken, cut in pieces

1 carrot, cut into 1-inch chunks

2 stalks celery, cut into 1-inch chunks

1 onion, quartered

4 cloves garlic, chopped

2 sticks astragalus herb

4 shiitake mushrooms

1-2 T white wine or wine vinegar

Add the following ingredients after skimming:

4 T dried nettle leaf

2 T dried dandelion root

2 T dried burdock root

Put everything but the last three herbs in a cooking pot with four quarts of water, bring to a boil, skim the foam that comes to surface, then lower heat, add the herbs, and simmer, covered, on slow fire for three to four hours. Crock-Pots and wood stoves do this well. Remove from heat, de-bone meat, and set aside. Strain herbs from broth and compost them. Return broth to heat, season with salt and pepper, add a few fresh vegetables, and cook until almost done; return all or some of the meat to the soup, finish cooking, and serve. If you wish to keep the broth simple, reserve the meat for another meal. This soup hits the spot after a chilly winter outing.

Chicken broth is a great base for many dishes, such as rice pilafs, beans, or sauces. It is a lifesaver anytime you need a quick and tasty meal without sacrificing deep nourishment. By expanding the recipe, enough broth can be made at one time to freeze for several meals. We make broth every other month and freeze it in one-quart containers.

Like winter, illness often brings vulnerability a step closer. It strips our leaves and reveals the structure underneath. The inner form becomes transparent, so we are able to see what might need pruning to encourage strength, a branch or system that would benefit from nourishment, a vision or hope that could use support. We get a glimpse of the inner landscape and realize the gift in each breath, day, and year we have to share with this world. Maybe we slow down a little and let the broth simmer while we enjoy the birds in naked winter limbs. We make adjustments and look to the swelling buds of our hopes and dreams and commit ourselves to joie de vivre once again!

Be well in the turning from winter to spring.

EagleSong, C.C.H., director of RavenCroft Garden in Monroe, Washington, is a nationally recognized herbal educator. She is dedicated to keeping herbal wisdom within reach of all people and connected to the healing wisdom of nature. P.O. Box 229, Startup, WA 98293; (360) 794-2938; <ravencroft@earthlink.net>.