The Hedgerow Harvest
Autumn has finally arrived after a week-long heatwave and no rain until last night. This morning, the skies were grey, drizzle fuzzing the view across the paddocks and the breeze had a distinct nip to it. The landscape and my garden, which were looking brown and crispy, shriveled and droopy, in equal measure, has perked up and there is once more a flush of green across the hills. Trees across the region have begun their fiery Autumnal blush and I’m looking forward to the mushroom blooms that will soon flourish after these welcome rains.
Everywhere I look, blackberry brambles, crab apples and hedgerow berries like haws, elderberries and rosehips are ripening, ready to be harvested and made into delicious pies or jellies and jams. The dandilions are proudly displaying their fluffy seed puffs and I’m looking forward to rambles in the Autumn landscape, foraging the seasonal bounty.
I adore foraging, especially on the edges of my town and pine forests at this time of year. There’s nothing as peaceable and enjoyable as gathering plump and sweet blackberries, tart crabapples, juicy wild plums, deep red haw berries and rose hips, and earthy mushrooms in a basket, under a clear Autumn sky, rugged-up against the cool breeze, with the warm sun on my back. There is such joy in finding, eating and sharing delicious sweet morsels with my children, or spotting toadstools in the forest and imagining Baba Yaga or the witch from Hansel and Gretel is nearby. It’s fun to feel the frision of old fairytales and folktales, and otherworldly things drawing near.
In celebration of this, my favourite season, the season that feels most magical and enchanted, let’s explore the history and folklore of the hedgerows and their harvests.
Hedgerows
Hedgerows are liminal places, living fences of tangled wildness, in contrast to the ‘civilised’ and domesticated landscapes that they often bound. They serve as property boundaries, field borders, livestock barriers, and wildlife havens and can be seen crisscrossing the countryside throughout the British Isles, part of the agricultural landscape for centuries. In Britain, their use can be traced back to the Bronze Age and they gained prominence during the Enclosure Acts of the 18th century when they were used to divide open fields and commons into individual plots.
Typically, hedgerows are composed of a variety of plants that provide nectar from flowers in Spring, shelter and shade in summer, and fruit (many edible but some poisonous) from late Summer to Autumn. They include shrubs like hawthorn, blackthorn, and hazel, and trees such as crab apple and elder. The undergrowth might contain brambles, ferns, herbs and a carpet of wildflowers – each species contributing to a dense and diverse ecosystem.
Folklore is rich where hedgerows thrive. They are often associated with mythical creatures and tales of old. In folklore, hedgerows are often regarded as the veils between worlds, marking the boundaries between the civilized and the wild, the mundane and the magical. They are said to be inhabited by a variety of creatures, from fairies and spirits to witches and even dragons. In some tales, they are portals to other realms or times.
Hedge witches are said to use the plants found in hedgerows for their medicinal and magical properties. These women were said to maintain the balance between humans and nature, using their knowledge of herbs to heal and protect. These women were called wisewomen, healers, and henwives in their positive form, or witches in the perjorative form. The hedge witch has taken a form of her own in modern times as even now, there are people who identify as hedge witches or follow #hedgewitch on social media.
In the colored fairy books of Andrew Lang (The Red Fairy Book, The Blue Fairy Book, etc.), there is a figure who has always intrigued me: the Hen Wife, related to the witch, the seer, and the herbalist, but different from them too: a distinct and potent archetype of her own, an enchanted figure beneath a humble white apron. We find her dispensing wisdom and magic in the folk tales of the British Isles and far beyond (all the way to Russia and China): a woman who is part of the community, not separate from it like the classic "witch in the woods"; a woman who is married, domesticated like her animal familiars, and yet conversant with women's mysteries, sexuality, and magic.
Terri Windling, Hen Wives, Spinsters, and Lolly Willowes.
Hedge Plant Lore
There are many folktales and folklore specific to each plant that frequently inhabit the hedgerow. Folklore about the richness of the hedgerow harvest and weather divination for the coming Winter is also common throughout Europe. An old English saying describes this belief: Many haws, many snows or, Many haws, cold toes. 19th century English poet, John Clare, wrote a lovely poem about the joys of the Autumn season and one of the verses mentions this weather lore:
The Thorns and Briars, vermillion hue. Now full of Hips and Haws are seen; If village prophesies be true. They prove that Winter will be keen.
A verse from the 19th poem, Autumn by John Clare
Hawthorn
The hawthorn tree (Crataegus spp) is commonly found in hedgerows, and is believed to be especially sacred. I wrote about its association with May Day celebrations and The Good People (AKA the Sidhe, the Fae and the Faeries), in this article Beltane - Part 4: Earth, published in October, in the lead up to Beltaine. Haw berries are small red fruit that aren’t particularly palatable but make lovely jams an jellies. They are also used in Western Herbal and Traditional Chinese Medicine to help with cardiac issues such as irregular heartbeat, congestive heart failure, high blood pressure, and chest pain, as well as for digestive ailments.
Blackthorn
European folklore is rich with tales and symbolism surrounding the blackthorn tree, known scientifically as Prunus spinosa. This thorny shrub, native to Europe, plays a significant role in myths and legends across various cultures. In Celtic mythology, the blackthorn is often associated with dark aspects of magic and the otherworld. It is said to be a tree of ill omen, connected with the dark side of the year when days are short and nights are long.
The tree's hard wood was used to make cudgels and walking sticks, known as shillelaghs, which also were also believed to possess magical power. The Cailleach was known to carry a staff made of blackthorn that she would strike against the ground to bring Winter to the land. I wrote about in one of my first articles, The Winter Queens: Hags, Witches, Sovereigns and Goddesses of Winter.
In some traditions, the blackthorn is also linked to protection. Its spiky thorns were thought to ward off evil, and it was often planted near homes for this purpose. The tree's fruit, sloes, are steeped in folklore as well. These sour berries are traditionally picked after the first frost, which is said to sweeten them, and are used to make sloe gin—a practice that continues to this day.
Elder
Elder trees (Sambucus spp) are also steeped in myth and their dark purple berries have been used for centuries to ward off evil spirits and heal ailments. According to English and Scandinavian legend, the elder tree was home to the Elder Mother, a spirit who watched over the forest. It was believed that before cutting down an elder tree, one must ask the Elder Mother for permission, lest they risk her wrath. A common phrase for woodsmen before cutting down an Elder tree was:
"Old girl, give me some of thy wood and I will give thee some of mine when I grow into a tree."
Charlotte Sophia Burne (2003) Handbook of Folklore, Kessinger Publishing, ISBN 978-0-7661-3058-6
In Scandinavia and Slavic countries, it was believed that the elder tree could drive out evil spirits. Danes also believed that standing under an elder on Midsummer's Eve allowed one to see the Elf-king and his host, which is similar to a Scottish tradition where it was said to happen on All Hallows Eve or Samhain. In England, it was believed that the elder tree could never be hit by lightning and that elder bark or twigs could protect their bearer from rheumatism. Farmers placed crosses made from elder on their cow-sheds and barns to protect their animals from evil.
In herbal medicine, elderberries are celebrated for their immune-boosting properties. They are packed with antioxidants and vitamins that can help fight colds and flu. A syrup made from these berries is a common remedy for respiratory infections and has been used for generations to promote health and wellbeing. Elderberry flowers can be made into a cordial for a refreshing drink but beware, all parts of the elder tree, including the berries and flowers, are poisonous and contain cyanogenic glycosides. Cooking the berries and flowers denatures their toxicity.
Crab Apple
Crab apples trees (Maulus spp, particularly Mauls Sylvestris) are the wild ancestors of the domestic apple and are found across Eurasia along with regional folklore. The small, tart crab apple fruits are often associated with magic and healing as well as traditional herbal medicine. It is also the only ancient apple tree that is indigenous to Britain - the domesic apple was introduced to the British Isles by the Romans.
According to legend throughout Europe, crab apples were considered a symbol of love, fertility and marriage. In Ireland, crab apples were used in love divinations during Samhain. In Slavic regions they were also associated with protection as well as fertility. It was common to plant a crab apple tree in celebration of a new birth, symbolizing a wish for a fruitful life. In Scandinavia, crab apples were connected to magic and were often included in rituals and offerings to deities for good harvests and prosperity.
Crab apples also hold a significant place in the history of brewing ale and cider. They are tart and tannic, making them less desirable for eating out of hand but excellent for fermentation. The high acidity and astringency of crab apples were used to add complexity and depth to both ale and cider, and its high level of tannins was used to preserve the beverage. Apple cider vinegar is also made with a mix of domestic and crab apples.
Crab apples were, and still are used as a base for jams, jellies, due to their high level of natural pectins. They not only preserved the fruit but also concentrated its medicinal properties, making it a valuable resource during the winter months when fresh produce was scarce.
In the realm of herbal medicine, crab apples have been used for their various health benefits. Rich in antioxidants and vitamin C, they were commonly used to aid digestion and treat inflammation. Herbalists would often recommend crab apple remedies for soothing sore throats or as a diuretic to help with kidney problems.
Blackberry
Blackberry brambles (Rubus fruticosus) dot the fields and paddocks all over my region. They are considered a noxious weed, hard to control and vigorous, imported by the British when they first began to colonise this country. I know and believe that they should be controlled as best as possible, though I can’t help but admire them, and I am certainly thankful for their bounty of sweet and delicious fruit as well as the rich folklore about them. European folktales often feature blackberries as symbols of abundance and sometimes caution.
A common folktale from the British Isles tells of fairies who guard blackberry bushes, rewarding those who respect the plants with bountiful harvests. Conversely, picking berries after a certain date, most often Michaelmas on October 29, is said to invite misfortune, as it's believed that the fruit will be blighted by the devil. This echoes folk knowledge about the effects of frost on the blackberries, which often occurred near Halloween/Samhain.
Blackberries were also said to have transformational powers. In Eastern European stories, blackberries often serve as magical agents that can change one's fate. A Polish folktale narrates the journey of a young man who, upon eating a mystical blackberry, gains the ability to understand animals' speech, leading him to uncover hidden treasures.
Brambly Hedge
As a children’s book author, a collector of illustrated children’s books, a lover of all things seasonal and of adventurous little mice, I just have to mention the gorgeous and visually captivating Brambly Hedge book series, written and illustrated by Jill Barklem. Jill’s community of mice live in a hedgerow and enjoy whimsical adventures through the seasons. Each page is illustrated with charming scenes and characters depicted in great detail through luminous waterclour paints. If I had read these books as a child I would have been utterly captivated and having dicovered them now in the middle years of my life, I adore sharing them with the little ones in my life.
Brambly Hedge is on the other side of the stream, across the field. If you can find it, and if you look very hard amongst the tangled roots and stems, you may even see a wisp of smoke from a small chimney, or through an open door, a steep flight of stairs deep within the trunk of a tree. For this is the home of the mice of Brambly Hedge.
From the Brambly Hedge website.
Hedgerows offer a multitude of benefits. They serve as vital wildlife corridors, supporting biodiversity by providing habitat and food for a variety of species. Additionally, they contribute to landscape stability, prevent soil erosion, and enhance water quality by filtering runoff. Their dense foliage also acts as a windbreak, protecting crops and reducing wind damage. They sequester carbon and a also add aesthetic value to the countryside, preserving the character and history of rural landscapes in Britain.
Since 1945, however, hedgerows have been deteriorating and disappearing from the British landscape due to changes in countryside management. Projects are being established around the British Isles to re-establish and regenerate hedgerows. In Australia, native hedgerows are becoming popular and can provide all the benefits of the traditional hedgerow, including delicious edible berries.
As well as creating a haven for wildlife, hedgerows can have a suite of other beneficial effects on the garden and the planet. They’re excellent screens to keep out road noise and certainly capture much more carbon than a barbed wire fence. They also act as barriers to desiccating summer winds and help to keep humidity in your garden, reducing the need to water frequently.
Next week we’ll explore the seasonal celebration of Harvest Home, and if I have time, a bonus edition on mushrooms.
Such beautiful folktales and knowledge! I had read that in America, George Washington tried to get farmers to plant hedgerows which he admired about England's rural landscape. He advocated that it would save wood and create more food, but the farmers preferred the easy split rail fences that are so iconic now. It's such a shame the idea didn't take off here. I love hedgerows as their multipurpose functions.