Douglas fir – Robin Harford from Eatweeds

I walk through dense oak woods, prolific with acorns.

The sound of them tumbling through trees is rhythmic as rain, echoing the season’s bounty.

The ground crunches. Thousands litter the woodland floor.

At the edge stands a giant Douglas Fir. Pseudotsuga menziesii.

I crane my neck looking upwards. Tall. Magnanimous.

I feel I am in the presence of an ancient being. One that started its journey in the Americas and made its way to these Isles.

Long before it arrived, ancient humans knew it gifted food and medicine.

In times of scarcity, the rough outer bark was peeled back to reveal the sweet cambium layer beneath. This was dried, ground and turned into bread.

Not a yeast risen bread. A flat bread the Scots call Bannock. Heavy. Cooked on hot stones or on a griddle.

In spring the amber sap runs thick. Children would eat it like candy, or mix it into water for a sweet drink.

The young shoots are bright, vibrant green against the older, dark branches.

They taste soft. Citrus. Slightly bitter and astringent.

Culinarians have turned them into pickles. Ancient ones brewed a hot beverage from the leaves and twigs.

Well known in the Americas, it is almost forgotten on these shores.

Yet we are now learning again what the inhabitants of Turtle Island have known for millennia.

The cones contain compounds that fight bacteria and strengthen the body against viruses. The young, green ones that are the most potent.

Crush the needles between your fingers and breathe in the fresh, piney aroma. That’s alpha-pinene.

You might notice your breathing slows and your shoulders drop. Relaxing. Stress relieving.

This is just one of many benefits of befriending these woodland giants.

Always the greatest gifts come when you take time to build a relationship.

Stand close to this giant with its gentle presence. Notice the quiet.

What shifts in you?