I am Ash (Fraxinus excelsior), an ancient guardian of the woods. My roots plunge into Earth’s memories, as deep as my crown reaches for heaven’s whispers.
Humans have known me as the Venus of the Forest for centuries. I wear my beauty with the quiet dignity of one who has seen countless seasons turn.
My grey bark, weathered like the stories it holds, shelters secrets of sustenance that few remember today.
In spring, my black buds burst into clusters of purple-tinged flowers. I offer my first gifts: blanched tender shoots. They add a wild freshness to spring salads.
Children once gathered these delicacies. Their laughter mixed with birdsong in the awakening woods.
As summer unfolds, my compound leaves provide more than shade. Each is a constellation of lance-shaped leaflets. Steeped in hot water, they yield a tea that carries the essence of ancient forests in every sip.
My winged seeds, called ‘keys’ by locals, spiral down like dancers in autumn’s breeze.
These keys, pickled in brine, have fed generations across Europe and Asia. Their subtle flavour reminds us of leaner times when every part of a tree was precious.
In late summer, wise ones know to tap my trunk. They collect the sweet manna that sweetens cakes and breads.
I am more than mere sustenance; I am mythology made manifest. My wood has armed warriors, crafted cradles, and kindled sacred fires.
Even now, as modern life rushes by like wind through my branches, I am here. I am ready to share my gifts with those who know how to ask.