Foraging for flowers in June brings the delights of elder, agrimony, meadowsweet, limeflower, daisy and rose.
One of the greatest joys of June is that it is when so many of our native plants fully come into flower. While the blackthorn preceded spring and hawthorn heralded its arrival, trees like the elder are now bursting into bloom producing flat cymes of yellow-white florets that smell of honey.
One of my favourite foraging spots is a beautiful coastal wildflower meadow where a narrow deer path around the edge winds its way between a forest of elder trees. When in full bloom, the air is so heady that with each breath you inhale pure elderflower. Protected from the deer by a skirt of spiky gorse, this fragrant corridor is sheer delight and a sensory heaven! I always make a mental note to also return in the autumn to harvest their juicy purple-black berries.
Elder (Sambucus nigra)
Elder (Sambucus nigra) is a member of the Moschatel family (Adoxaceae) along with the guelder rose (Viburnum opulus). It’s an ancient sacred tree, named after Hylde Moer — the elder or earth mother. Lady Elder, Hyldor, Hulda, Lady Ellhorn — there are many names for the old crone in the green-dress whose permission must be sought before cutting elder wood lest misfortune befall you.
The sweet-tasting flowers are mainly used for a wide variety of culinary treats and medicinal cures. Most commonly known is elderflower cordial, however, this is the tip of a gourmet iceberg. Think elderflower sorbet, ice cream, cheesecake, white chocolate tart, Turkish delight, vinegar, mead or sparkling wine as well as drying it gently for teas.
Medicinally elder has a particular affinity with the respiratory tract to which all its parts refer: the leaves and berries (which must both be cooked), the flowers, the leaf and stem, and the strange gelatinous mushroom shaped like an ear that loves to grow on it — the wood ear (Auricularia auricula). The flowers with their volatile notes address and decongest the upper respiratory tract — the eyes, sinuses and nose. Hay fever sufferers in particular find elderflowers relieve inflamed eyes and running noses when taken regularly, often in combination with the diminutive eyebright (Euphrasia officinalis), which also first appears in June. Elderflowers are also antiviral against cold sores, so infused in oil with dyer’s alkanet (Alkanna tinctoria) then hardened with beeswax to make a protective rosy-red lip balm.
Later in the year, elderberry supports the throat, tonsils and protects against influenza, stimulating the immune system. The cooked leaves have been shown to be antiviral against COVID-19 in studies, while the wood ear moistens and protects lung tissue.
Agrimony (Agrimonia eupatoria)
Apart from the Scottish Highlands, common agrimony (Agrimonia eupatoria) also flowers now in apricot-scented, yellow spires — giving it the nickname ‘church steeples’ in some parts. The name agrimony comes from the Greek word argemone meaning ‘cataract of the eye’, although I more often prescribe it as a gently spicy, warming tea to settle IBS or an upset stomach that needs both mild bitters and a calming disposition.
The serrated edges of its opposing leaves, with micro-leaves between them, put it firmly in the rose family (Rosaceae) alongside cousins like wood avens (Geum urbanum) aka ‘clove root’ in the Colurieae tribe, and meadowsweet (Filipendula ulmaria) in Ulmarieae. The latter tends to flower toward the end of June and into July in huge, fluffy drifts of honeyed, creamy flowers.
Meadowsweet (Filipendula ulmaria)
Meadowsweet blossom can be used in cordials and desserts in much the same way as elderflowers. But do ensure the flowers are fully open as the unopened buds have a mild ‘wet bandage’ flavour from its salicylic acid compounds. These were discovered in 1835 and developed into aspirin (acetyl-salicylic acid) in 1899. The name aspirin (a-spirin) being coined after meadowsweet’s first botanical name Spiraea ulmaria. As ‘mead wort’ it was popular for flavouring mead, after all what better flower to flavour your alcoholic, fermented-honey drink than one with a hangover cure already built in?
Four thousand years ago, in the Bronze Age, graves were covered with meadowsweet flowers which researchers attributed to sentimental floral tributes. However, there are many other flowers to choose from and most grave goods had a practical purpose. The deceased may have suffered from joint aches and pains — possibly arthritis — or acid reflux. A meadowsweet decoction would have helped ease musculoskeletal pin and rebalance stomach acid. It helps to heal the gut and, unlike aspirin, does not harm the gut lining. On an even more practical level, it might even have been used on graves to reduce the speed of decay. The salicylates in contains helped food to keep fresh — no doubt useful in mead production too!
Wood avens (Geum urbanum)
Wood avens might easily be overlooked as its tiny, insignificant yellow flower is easily missed. Yet it follows along the path trailing through every beech wood I’ve ever visited. It makes sense that it likes paths as, after flowering, its fruit (an achene) is covered with little hooked hairs that grasp fabric or fur on any passer-by. If you loosen the soil around it you can slice off a few of the lateral white side roots, about as thick as a biro insert, without damaging the main root (always ask the land owner’s permission before digging up a plant.) Chewed, or made into a tincture, the side roots taste strongly of cloves, due to the presence of eugenol, which will remind you of your dentist’s mouthwash.
After chewing for a while you’ll find it has mildly anaesthetised your gums too. Wood avens is a warming, astringent herb that was traditionally used to quell diarrhoea and dysentery, as well as relieve a toothache. I love making it into a syrup by laying the roots into white sugar, adding a few each foraging trip. When the jar is full and the sugar has extracted all the flavour, I gently melt it into a syrup and serve it with vanilla ice cream.
Limeflower (Tilia spp.)
The small-leaved lime (Tilia cordata) and large-leaved lime (Tilia platyphyllos) are collectively known as linden or limeflower and are no relation to the citrus fruit. T. cordata is native to Britain and its ancient name the ‘pry tree’ reflects its holy status as a prayer tree. Linden flowers right at the beginning of June with clusters of creamy-yellow starlike flowers held above a long, pale-green bract. I pick the whole head and dry them gently for therapeutically calming teas, leaving plenty for the bees. Like sage (Salvia officinalis), when drunk hot as a tea they encourage sweating to relieve a fever, but when drunk cool will relieve sweats and hot flushes. They are in the Malvaceae family where marshmallow (Althaea officinalis) is found and the early leaves are delicious, mucilaginous and soothing.
Daisy (Bellis perennis)
By the summer, the common daisy (Bellis perennis) delights in invading every lawn that isn’t assiduously mown. It is indeed the ‘day’s eye’ opening to greet the day and closing at night. It will also close up when the stems are pushed into a panna cotta as an edible decoration and put in the fridge, then unfurl as they are taken out to serve. Daisy makes a fantastic alternative to wild arnica (Arnica montana), which is now on the IUCN Red List in several European countries. Just infuse a jar full of daisies in sunflower oil for a month, then strain, stir in melted beeswax (20% by weight) and pour into ointment jars to set. Perfect for all household bumps and bruises.
Rose (Rosa spp.)
Livening up the hedges, various wild roses produce their flowers in June. Our natives dog rose (Rosa canina) and the eglantine or briar rose (Rosa rubiginosa). There is also the more recent introduction to council-planted roadsides, the Japanese rose (Rosa rugosa), which quickly goes feral. Although many of the wild roses have lightly scented petals (Japanese rose is strongest smelling), their fragrance can be captured in a clear spirit such as vodka. I only infuse the petals for 24 hours and then replace them with fresh ones, gradually building up the aromatic strength. When it’s ready it’s hard to know whether to sip it — a teaspoonful diluted in a little water — for a headache, or to splash it behind your ears on a romantic, starlit night. My great-great grandmother passed a small wooden box down the generations. Inside are two glass-stoppered bottles and a faded note in spidery writing from my great-grandmother. It says “Mother kept these on her dressing table. There was brandy in one and rose tincture in the other. For those difficult days”. Even the smell of roses goes a long way to relieving a headache, averting a migraine or lifting the heart and spirit.
Gather and dry the petals to use in teas — especially to relieve period pain or menopausal mood, or add them to your bath to cool rashes, prickly heat, sunburned or itchy skin. Simmer them to make rosewater or Turkish delight. Use them fresh with butter cream in a summer sponge cake. If you have any left over combine with spices to make your own Ras el Hanout blend. In late summer collect alexanders seed, dried hogweed seed, dried magnolia petals or a tiny amount of sweet flag root and some wild angelica seeds. Toast the seeds and then grind everything together to make a truly wild spice mix.
