Jean M. Roberts's Blog

 Rue:The Bitter Herb of the Medieval Healer

"Bitterupon the tongue, pungent beneath the fingers, and surrounded by a reputationfor protection—rue was a plant that belonged as much to the medieval healer'sworld of mystery as it did to the apothecary's shelf."

Walkthrough an herb garden in summer and you may pass rue without a second glance.

Itsblue-green leaves are delicate, almost fernlike, and its small yellow flowersseem rather modest beside the flamboyant blooms of a cottage garden. Yet forcenturies, rue was anything but ordinary.

Tothe physicians, herbalists, monks, and cunning women of medieval Europe, ruewas a plant of remarkable reputation.

Itwas bitter.

Itwas pungent.

Itwas considered powerful.

And,like so many plants used in medieval medicine, it occupied a fascinating spacebetween what we might call medicine, folklore, and magic.

Forthose of us who love the old herbals, rue offers a glimpse into a world wherethe garden was an apothecary, the hedgerow was a medicine cabinet, and thedifference between a healing remedy and a protective charm could besurprisingly thin.

Ruein the Old English Herbal

TheOld English Herbal belongs to a long tradition of herbal knowledge thatreached England through Latin texts and was eventually rendered into thelanguage of Anglo-Saxon England. Its roots lie in the Herbariumassociated with Pseudo-Apuleius, a late antique work that circulated widely inmedieval Europe.

Thesurviving Old English herbal tradition is therefore a fascinating mixture ofinherited classical knowledge and the practical world of early medievalEngland. The manuscript tradition preserves plant descriptions and medicinalapplications alongside other medical material, giving us a window into theknowledge available to English healers.

Rueappears within this tradition as a medicinal herb associated with a variety ofailments.

Theplant was valued for its strong, penetrating qualities and was used inpreparations intended to address problems involving the head, eyes, digestion,and other bodily complaints. Like many herbs of the period, its use wasgrounded in the medical theories inherited from classical medicine, includingideas about the qualities and properties of plants.

Butrue's reputation extended beyond the purely physical.

Itwas a plant believed to possess strength.

Andplants with strength often acquired a reputation for protection.

TheBitter Herb

Ruehas an unmistakable character.

Crushits leaves between your fingers and the plant releases a sharp, distinctivescent. Taste it, and its bitterness lingers.

Medievalherbalists often interpreted these qualities as clues to medicinal power.

Abitter herb might be thought useful for the stomach.

Astrongly aromatic plant might be considered capable of penetrating ordispersing illness.

Aplant that seemed to possess an almost aggressive character could also becomeassociated with protection.

Thisway of thinking may seem foreign to us now, but it was central to medievalherbal medicine. Plants were observed carefully, described according to theirqualities, and incorporated into a system of healing that combined inheritedmedical theory with generations of practical experience.

Rue'sbitterness was part of its identity.

Andperhaps that is why it became one of those herbs surrounded by such a powerfulfolklore.

Rueand the Lacnunga

TheLacnunga offers us a very different kind of glimpse into early Englishhealing.

Thename Lacnunga is Old English for "remedies," although thetitle itself was assigned by a later editor. The collection survives in BritishLibrary Harley MS 585, a manuscript compiled in England around the late tenthor early eleventh century. Unlike a neatly organized modern medical textbook,it is a fascinating mixture of remedies, prayers, charms, and traditions.

Thisis one of the reasons the Lacnunga is so compelling.

Itshows us that early medieval healing was not divided into the tidy categorieswe use today.

Therewas no clear line between medicine and ritual.

Ahealer might prepare herbs for a physical complaint and, at the same time,recite words intended to protect the patient.

Aremedy might draw upon the authority of Christian prayer while also preservingmuch older ideas about the supernatural causes of illness.

Thefamous Nine Herbs Charm, preserved within the Lacnunga, isperhaps the best-known example of this fascinating intersection between herbalknowledge, poetry, ritual, and belief.

Ruebelongs to this broader world of healing.

Evenwhen a particular remedy is practical and botanical, it exists within a culturethat understood plants as possessing histories, personalities, and powers.

Theherb itself mattered.

Butso did the words spoken over it.

ThePeri Didaxeon

ThePeri Didaxeon carries us into another layer of the medieval medicaltradition.

Thetitle is Greek, and the work survives in a later manuscript tradition. Itbelongs to the body of medical writings connected with the transmission andadaptation of Latin medical knowledge in England. Unlike the Lacnunga,with its diverse collection of remedies and charms, the Peri Didaxeon ismore closely connected to the tradition of learned medical writing and theorganization of therapeutic knowledge.

Whatmakes these texts so fascinating when considered together is the movement ofknowledge.

Aplant's reputation could begin in classical medicine.

Itcould be preserved in Latin.

Translatedor adapted into Old English.

Copiedby a scribe.

Passedinto a collection of remedies.

Andeventually find its way into the practical knowledge of those who gatheredplants in gardens and hedgerows.

Thejourney of a herb was rarely a straight line.

Itwas more like a winding path through centuries.

Ruetraveled that path.

APlant of Protection

Beyondmedicine, rue developed a remarkable reputation as a protective herb.

Inlater European folklore, it became associated with warding away illness,misfortune, and harmful influences. Its strong scent may have contributed tothis reputation; plants with powerful aromas were often considered capable ofdriving away what was harmful.

Ruealso became associated with ritual cleansing and protection.

Theherb was sometimes carried, hung in homes, or used in traditional practicesintended to guard against evil.

Itsreputation was so enduring that the plant eventually acquired associations withspiritual protection that survived long after the original medical theories hadfaded.

Thisis where rue becomes especially interesting to anyone fascinated byhedgewitches and cunning women.

Imaginea medieval healer reaching for rue.

Wasshe thinking only of its medicinal properties?

Perhaps.

Butperhaps she also understood that the people who came to her wanted more than aremedy.

Theywanted reassurance.

Theywanted protection.

Theywanted to believe that someone knew what to do.

Ahealing plant could provide all three.

 Ruein the Medieval Garden

Ifwe could step into a medieval physic garden, rue would be easy to imaginethere.

Itwould grow among the other plants gathered for medicine:

Sage.

Fennel.

Betony.

Yarrow.

Plantain.

Angelica.

Hyssop.

Thegarden itself was a living library.

Everyplant had a name.

Everyplant had a season.

Everyplant had a history.

Thehealer knew when to gather it, which part to use, and how to prepare it.

Rootswere dug.

Leaveswere crushed.

Flowerswere dried.

Seedswere saved.

Somepreparations were steeped in water or wine. Others were combined with honey,oil, or animal fats to create ointments and salves.

Thework required patience.

Andknowledge.

Thiswas not the world of the instant remedy.

Itwas the world of observation.

TheCunning Woman's Rue

Ioften imagine rue sitting in the corner of a cunning woman's basket.

Perhapsit is wrapped in linen.

Perhapsa few leaves have escaped, leaving their unmistakable scent behind.

Shemight carry it because she knows the old remedies.

Shemight carry it because her mother taught her to.

Shemight carry it because her grandmother believed it protected the home.

Andperhaps, after generations of use, she no longer remembers where medicine endsand magic begins.

Maybeshe doesn't need to.

Forthe women who practiced healing in the medieval world, the two were oftenintertwined.

Thebody could suffer.

Themind could suffer.

Thespirit could suffer.

Andthe healer was expected to tend to all three.

ANote on Rue Today

Rueis still grown as an ornamental and aromatic plant, and it remains part of sometraditional herbal practices.

However,this is one of those historical herbs where modern caution is particularlyimportant.

Rue contains compounds that can be toxic in sufficientquantities and can cause serious reactions. The fresh plant may also cause skin irritation orphotosensitivity, particularly when the skin is exposed to sunlight. It is notconsidered safe for use during pregnancy and should not be treated as a casualhome remedy.

Thefact that a plant was used medicinally in the Middle Ages does not mean that itis safe to use in the same way today.

Thisis an important distinction when exploring historical herbalism.

Ourancestors possessed an extraordinary amount of botanical knowledge.

Theyalso lacked modern pharmacology, toxicology, and clinical testing.

Theold herbals are valuable records of history and human ingenuity—but they shouldbe approached with curiosity and respect rather than as instruction manuals forself-treatment.

WhyRue Still Fascinates Me

Whatdraws me to rue is not simply its place in medieval medicine.

Itis the way the plant sits at the crossroads of so many worlds.

Classicalmedicine.

Anglo-Saxonhealing.

Monasticgardens.

OldEnglish manuscripts.

Folktraditions.

Protectivemagic.

Thehistory of women who gathered plants and transformed them into remedies.

TheOld English Herbal, the Lacnunga, and the Peri Didaxeonremind us that medieval medicine was not a single tradition. It was a tapestrywoven from many threads—classical learning, Christian belief, local knowledge,inherited folklore, and the practical experience of generations.

Rueis one of those threads.

Bitter.

Pungent.

Beautiful.

Andenduring.

Fromthe Pages of The Midsummer Women

Theseare the details that find their way into my writing.

WhenI imagine a healer standing beside her garden, I don't see a collection ofanonymous green plants.

Isee history.

Isee the generations of women who learned their properties.

Isee the hands that gathered them.

Isee the old books where their uses were recorded in ink.

AndI see the knowledge that traveled from manuscript to garden, from garden tobasket, and from one generation to the next.

Thatis the world that inspires The Midsummer Women.

Aworld where the past is never entirely gone.

Itwaits in the pages of an ancient herbal.

Inthe scent of a crushed leaf.

Inthe shadow of a hedgerow.

Andsometimes, if we are quiet enough, in the bitter green leaves of rue.

UntilNext Time

"Theold herbals do not merely tell us what plants could heal. They tell us what ourancestors feared, what they hoped for, and what they believed might protectthem when the world grew dark."

Perhapsthat is the true magic of the old medicine.

Notthat every remedy worked.

Butthat someone, somewhere, was always searching for a way to help.

Andthat knowledge—like the herbs themselves—was carried forward.

 

THE FREQUENCY

By Randall D. St. Claire

Mystery/ Speculative Thriller/ Thriller/ Suspense/ History 

Publisher: Atmosphere Press

Publication Date: July 21, 2026

SYNOPSIS

He didn’t expect his life to change in a single moment.

He didn’t expect it to ask anything in return.

Bronx Rousselle built his small life on purpose: a pawnshop in northern Minnesota, a few familiar faces, no debts he couldn’t count, no relationship anchors. Friendship, in his experience, always came with a cost—and Bronx never owed much to anyone. Humor helped. If he laughed hard enough at trouble, it often lost interest.

Then something finds its way into his hands. Old. Hidden. Mystical at first glance. Powerful enough to draw attention from people who don’t ask—they take. Curiosity bleeds into pursuit, and luck demands a toll. As it stretches from the American Midwest to the frozen edges of Greenland, Bronx is pulled into a world where survival is measured in seconds—and trust in scars.

But the greatest danger isn’t what’s chasing him. It’s how the journey begins to change him—forcing uneasy alliances.

A woman who carries pain without breaking. Another who will not bend. Men in shadows, where loyalty is uncertain and betrayal waits.

And somewhere between the cold, the fear, and the weight of what he carries, Bronx begins to feel something he’s spent a lifetime avoiding:

Connection. Responsibility. Loss.

The kind that doesn’t let go.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Randall D. St. Claire writes intelligent, character-driven thrillers that live at the intersection of discovery, consequence, and the human cost of both.

His ninth novel, The Frequency, grew from a simple question that wouldn’t let go — what happens when a historic discovery powerful enough to change the world appears destined to fall into the wrong hands? Born in Southern California, he moved to Texas in 1996. Mentored by Patricia Anthony and Carol Woods, he is a past President of the Greater Dallas Writer's Association. 

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REVIEW

 

The short story: I loved it!

My Review: The Frequency is oneof those books that lets you know on page one that if you continue; you are infor a wild ride. And you go willingly, enjoying every moment. Bronx Rouselle isa wounded man, an ex-hockey player, owner of a pawnshop. He doesn’t havefriends, doesn’t want them, would rather find release in a whorehouse thancommit to a relationship. When he’s offered Inuit artifacts and an intriguingmap in exchange for arranging a getaway for a pair of siblings, he grudginglyaccepts, not realizing he’s stepping off a cliff. Danger is on his doorstep,ready to kick it down. The map leads him to Greenland in search of a mysteriousstone whale. What he finds will change his life forever.

St. Claire creates a believable,sympathetic character in Bronx who is forced to tear down the walls he’s builtaround himself, make himself vulnerable, and learn to trust. Will it be McGowanthe cop who plagued his as a hockey referee, S’High-Anne, a teacher turningtricks to pay off her college loans, Dr. Gibbons, a Texas professor far from home,or a battered one-eared wolf?

The action is fast-paced; thedialogue spot-on. I really loved it when the story moved to Greenland. Theharsh landscape, the isolation, the beauty and raw power of nature waswonderfully written. The mystery of the map was intriguing and original. (Don’twant to give away any spoilers!) The resolution was satisfying! All in all agreat book. I think it would make a terrific movie.

I highly recommend this book tolovers of action adventure with a cast of thoughtfully written flawedcharacters.

 

To learn more about the book, look for #LSLLTheFrequency on your preferred social media platform.

 

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FOR DIRECT LINKS TO EACH REVIEWER PARTICIPATING.

  

 

 

Betony: The Herb That Was Said to Heal Both Body and Spirit

"If the hedgewitch could choose only one herb for her basket, many medieval healers believed betony would be enough."

Long before pharmacies lined our streets, there was a saying repeated throughout medieval Europe:

"Sell your coat and buy betony."

It sounds extravagant today, but to medieval physicians, monks, and village cunning women, it was practical advice. Betony was considered one of the finest medicinal herbs in Europe, so highly prized that some writers claimed it could cure nearly every ailment known to humankind.

While modern herbalists no longer regard it as a miracle plant, betony's long history reveals something fascinating about medieval medicine—and why this humble wildflower earned a place in nearly every physic garden.

The Herb of the Monastery

Wood betony (Stachys officinalis), sometimes called bishopwort, is a perennial native to Europe. With its square stems, soft green leaves, and spikes of rosy-purple flowers, it belongs to the mint family.

During the Middle Ages, betony grew in monastery gardens alongside sage, hyssop, fennel, and angelica. Benedictine monks cultivated it not only for medicine but because centuries of tradition had convinced them that few herbs possessed greater healing power.

The Roman physician Antonius Musa, physician to Emperor Augustus, praised betony in the first century. His writings influenced medieval herbalists for hundreds of years, and later authors expanded its reputation until it became one of Europe's most celebrated medicinal plants.

By the time of the Anglo-Saxons, betony was firmly established in English healing traditions.

Betony in Medieval Medicine

To a medieval healer, betony seemed almost limitless in its uses.

Infusions were prepared for headaches, dizziness, digestive troubles, coughs, and aching joints. Poultices were placed over wounds and bruises, while stronger decoctions were believed to ease fevers and restore strength after illness.

Some herbals recommended betony for disorders of the liver and spleen. Others claimed it sharpened memory, lifted melancholy, and calmed troubled dreams.

Though these remedies reflected the medical theories of their time, many reveal careful observation. Betony's gentle bitterness can stimulate digestion, while its mild calming qualities likely contributed to its reputation as a comforting herb.

Perhaps no cure was as valuable as hope itself.

A Sacred Plant

For the cunning woman, herbs rarely belonged only to medicine.

They also belonged to folklore.

Betony was often planted near the doorway of cottages to discourage misfortune. Sprigs were tucked beneath pillows to protect sleepers from frightening dreams, and dried leaves found their way into small charms carried by travelers.

Some believed evil spirits would not enter a house where betony grew.

Others scattered the herb across church floors during festivals, filling sacred spaces with its fresh, earthy fragrance.

Whether these customs offered supernatural protection is impossible to know, but they certainly offered reassurance in uncertain times.

The hedgewitch understood that healing the spirit could be just as important as healing the body.

Betony in the Anglo-Saxon World

Although herbs such as mugwort and plantain receive more attention today because of the famous Nine Herbs Charm, betony also appears in Anglo-Saxon medical manuscripts.

Works such as Bald's Leechbook and Leechbook III include remedies using betony for ailments ranging from headaches to digestive complaints. These collections reveal a fascinating blend of practical herbal knowledge, Christian prayer, and older folk traditions.

For the Anglo-Saxon healer, there was no clear boundary between medicine and faith.

A healing herb might be gathered at sunrise.

A blessing might be spoken while preparing the remedy.

The effectiveness of the treatment depended as much upon wisdom and ritual as the plant itself.

What Modern Herbalists Say

Today, wood betony is appreciated more modestly than it was in medieval times, but it still has a place in Western herbal traditions.

Modern herbalists commonly use betony as a gentle nervine—a plant believed to support the nervous system.

It is often prepared as a tea or tincture to:

Ease mild tension and nervousness

Support restful sleep

Soothe occasional headaches

Aid digestion

Relieve minor muscle tension

Some herbalists also recommend it as a relaxing herb for people experiencing stress or mental fatigue.

Scientific research on wood betony remains limited, and many traditional uses have not been confirmed by modern clinical studies. Like many historical herbs, its greatest legacy lies in centuries of careful observation rather than laboratory evidence.

As always, anyone considering medicinal herbs should consult a qualified healthcare professional, especially if pregnant, nursing, taking medications, or managing a medical condition.

Growing Betony

Betony is a delight in the cottage garden.

It thrives in full sun to partial shade and prefers moist, well-drained soil. Once established, it asks for little beyond occasional watering during dry weather.

Its purple flower spikes bloom throughout summer, attracting bees, butterflies, and other pollinators.

Leaves may be harvested before flowering, while the blossoms are gathered as they open.

Dry them in small bundles away from direct sunlight, preserving both their color and fragrance for winter teas.

Few herbs reward the patient gardener more generously.

Stachys coccinea (Texas betony) is a drought tolerant wildflower that grows well in Texas. This is what Hannah would be most familiar with. It shares many of the same properties as it's English cousin, only I think it's prettier!

From the Pages of The Midsummer Women

Whenever I imagine the herb garden outside Hannah's cottage, betony is always there.

Not because it is the most dramatic plant.

Not because it carries the strongest fragrance.

But because it represents something quietly enduring.

For centuries, wise women trusted this herb enough to pass its knowledge from mother to daughter, healer to apprentice, neighbor to friend. Whether growing beside monastery walls or tucked into a village garden, betony reminds us that the greatest medicines are often the ones history nearly forgot.

That quiet persistence is woven throughout The Midsummer Women. The women in these stories inherit more than recipes and remedies. They inherit memory itself.

Until Next Time

"Some herbs heal with powerful medicines. Others heal by reminding us to slow down, listen carefully, and trust the wisdom carried through generations."

Perhaps that is betony's greatest gift.

Not the promise of miraculous cures.

But the gentle reminder that the old ways still have something to teach us—if we are willing to walk the hedgerow with open eyes.

                                                From the Hedgewitch's Journal

 

                         Insidea Cunning Woman's Basket: The Medicines of Medieval England

"Thebasket rested by the cottage door, woven from willow and stained by years ofrain and sunlight. To most villagers, it looked ordinary. To the cunning woman,it carried everything she needed to ease pain, comfort the frightened, andremind her neighbors that healing often began with the gifts of theearth."

Ifyou had wandered into an English village a thousand years ago, long beforepharmacies and physicians were common, there is one woman you would have hopedto find when illness struck.

Thecunning woman.

Shewas not a queen, nor a noble lady, nor usually educated in the formal sense.Yet she possessed something every village valued—knowledge.

Sheknew where the feverfew bloomed.

Sheknew which willow tree grew beside the stream.

Sheknew that comfrey could help mend broken bones, that honey soothed wounds, andthat elderflowers welcomed the warmth of summer.

Hermedicine chest wasn't a cabinet of glass bottles.

Itwas a simple basket.

Insideit lay generations of wisdom, gathered from hedgerows, monastery gardens, andlessons passed quietly from one woman to the next.

Yarrow— The Soldier's Herb

Oneof the first plants likely tucked into her basket was yarrow (Achilleamillefolium).

Forcenturies, yarrow was prized for stopping bleeding and encouraging wounds toheal. Crushed fresh leaves were pressed against cuts, while dried flowers foundtheir way into healing salves and teas.

Its association with Achillesgave it an almost legendary reputation, but medieval healers valued it forpractical reasons. In a world where even a small wound could become dangerous,yarrow was indispensable.

Tothe cunning woman, it represented resilience—the quiet determination of bothplant and patient.

 

Plantain — The Roadside Healer

Plantain(Plantago major) grew almost everywhere.

Peoplestepped over it without a second glance, yet medieval herbals praised it as oneof the finest remedies for bites, burns, bruises, and inflamed skin.

TheAnglo-Saxon Nine Herbs Charm celebrates plantain as one of the sacredhealing herbs, calling it "Mother of Herbs."

Freshleaves could be crushed into a cooling poultice or steeped into washes for soreeyes and irritated skin.

Thegreatest medicines, the cunning woman knew, were often growing unnoticedbeneath her feet.

Comfrey— Knitbone

Ifa villager fell from a horse or broke an arm chopping wood, the cunning womanalmost certainly reached for comfrey (Symphytum officinale).

Knownas "knitbone," its leaves and roots were made into poultices forbruises, sprains, and fractures. Medieval healers believed it encouraged brokenbones to knit together more quickly.

Today,herbalists advise using comfrey externally rather than internally because ofcompounds that may affect the liver, but its reputation as a healing herb hasendured for centuries.

Honeyand Beeswax

Noteverything in the basket grew in the hedgerow.

Honeywas one of medieval Europe's most treasured medicines.

Longbefore antibiotics, it was applied to cuts and burns because it helped keepwounds clean and moist while discouraging infection. Mixed with herbs, honeyalso soothed sore throats and persistent coughs.

Beeswaxtransformed herbal oils into healing salves that could be carried from cottageto cottage.

Together,they formed the foundation of countless remedies.

Feverfew

Itscheerful white flowers concealed a serious purpose.

Feverfewwas used to ease headaches, reduce fevers, and calm aching joints. Many cunningwomen kept it close at hand during outbreaks of illness, brewing it into bitterteas or combining it with other herbs.

Thoughmodern studies continue to explore its role in migraine relief, feverfew hasremained part of herbal medicine for more than two thousand years.

Elder

Fewtrees inspired as much reverence as the elder.

Everypart of the tree found its place in the healer's craft.

Theflowers became cooling teas.

Theberries were cooked into syrups.

Theleaves appeared in poultices.

Yetfolklore insisted the tree deserved respect. Many believed the Elder Motherwatched over every elder tree, and permission should be sought before cuttingits branches.

Medicineand myth were never far apart.

ASharp Knife and Linen

Thebasket held more than herbs.

Asmall iron knife harvested plants and prepared remedies.

Cleanstrips of linen wrapped wounds and secured poultices.

Needleand thread repaired torn clothing as often as torn flesh.

Practicaltools mattered just as much as medicinal ones.

Rowanand Protective Charms

Healingwas never only physical.

Manycunning women carried a small rowan cross tied with red thread, a smooth riverstone, or a sprig of rosemary tucked beside their herbs.

Tomodern eyes they may seem symbolic.

Tomedieval villagers they offered reassurance, courage, and hope.

Illnessaffected body, mind, and spirit alike.

Ahealer tended all three.

MoreThan Medicine

Whatfascinates me most about the cunning woman's basket isn't what it contained.

It'swhat it represented.

Everybundle of dried herbs spoke of hours spent wandering the hedgerows.

Everyroot recalled the season it was gathered.

Everyjar held knowledge patiently accumulated through observation, experience, andgenerations of storytelling.

Thesewomen were botanists before the word existed.

Naturalists.

Midwives.

Healers.

Comforters.

Sometimescounselors.

Theirwork rarely appeared in history books, yet countless lives depended upon theirquiet wisdom.

Fromthe Pages of The Midsummer Women

WheneverI write about Hannah or the women who came before her, I imagine this basketresting beside the door.

Itis never filled by chance.

Eachherb has been gathered with intention.

Eachremedy reflects centuries of observation, tradition, and care.

Thatis one of the great joys of writing historical fantasy rooted in real history.The herbs are not simply props. They are living connections to the women wholearned to read the language of the seasons long before science could explainwhy so many of their remedies worked.

Perhapsthat is why their stories continue to enchant us.

Notbecause they performed impossible magic.

Butbecause they understood something we are only beginning to remember—thathealing often starts by paying attention to the world growing quietly aroundus.

UntilNext Time

"Everybasket tells the story of the hands that filled it."

Mayyou never lose the curiosity to learn the old names of the plants, the oldstories whispered beside the hearth, or the quiet wisdom carried through thehedgerows by those who came before us.

 

                                      Fromthe Hedgewitch's Journal

Angelica:The Herb of Angels and the Plague Root

Theold herbals tell us that some plants arrive with purpose.

Angelicais one of them.

Talland stately, crowned with pale green umbels that catch the morning light, itgrows with quiet confidence. Medieval herbalists believed it was no ordinaryplant but a heavenly gift, sent to protect humankind from disease. They calledit the Herb of the Angels, and legend claimed that an angel revealed itshealing powers during a time of great pestilence.

Whetherthe story is fact or folklore hardly matters. It tells us something importantabout the medieval mind: when fear swept through a village, hope often tookroot in the garden.

TheHerb of Protection

Angelica(Angelica archangelica) has long been treasured across northern Europe.Native to cooler climates, it flourished in monastery gardens where monkscultivated medicinal plants for both the body and the soul.

Bythe Middle Ages, physicians and wise women used nearly every part of the plant.The roots, seeds, stems, and leaves were prepared in remedies believed to aiddigestion, ease coughs, calm the stomach, and strengthen those recovering fromillness. During outbreaks of plague, people carried pieces of angelica root inpockets or wore them around their necks, believing the fragrant herb couldprotect them from corrupted air.

Modernscience doesn't support angelica as a cure for plague, but its aromatic oilsand traditional medicinal uses have earned it a lasting place in herbalhistory. Like many medieval remedies, its true value often lay in the comfortand care it represented.

APlant Wrapped in Legend

Fewherbs are surrounded by as much folklore as angelica.

Itsconnection to the Archangel Michael gave it an almost sacred reputation. Sometraditions claimed the plant first flowered on his feast day, while othersbelieved evil spirits could not cross a doorway protected by angelica.

Bundleswere hung above doors.

Roots were carried on longjourneys.

Seedswere scattered around homes to guard against illness and misfortune.

Tothe hedgewitch or cunning woman, such practices were rarely about superstitionalone. They offered reassurance in uncertain times, reminding families thatthey were not powerless against the hardships of the world.

GrowingAngelica

Angelicaprefers cool weather, rich soil, and a little patience. Sadly, it is difficult to grow in Texas where I live. 

Abiennial plant, it spends its first year building strong leaves before sendingup impressive flower stalks in the second. Pollinators adore its blossoms,making it as valuable to bees as it once was to herbalists.

Harvestthe leaves while young, but save the roots for autumn of the plant's firstyear, when their aromatic compounds are at their strongest. Dry them carefullyin a warm, shaded place, preserving both their fragrance and their history.

Eventoday, angelica lends its unique flavor to herbal teas, liqueurs, candies, andtraditional remedies, linking modern kitchens to centuries of botanicalknowledge.

Fromthe Pages of The Midsummer Women

WhenI write about healers and cunning women, I often imagine shelves lined withcarefully labeled jars, bundles of drying herbs suspended from dark oak beams,and gardens where every plant has a purpose.

Angelicawould never have been merely another herb.

Itwould have been gathered with reverence, planted near the cottage door, andreached for during times of illness—notsimply because of what it could do, but because of what it represented. Hope.Protection. Faith in the quiet wisdom of the natural world.

Theseare the details that breathe life into The Midsummer Women. The herbsare not decoration. They are companions to the women who know their names,understand their seasons, and trust that healing often begins with the simpleact of tending the earth.

UntilNext Time...

Everyforgotten herb carries two stories.

Oneis written by physicians and herbalists.

Theother lives in whispers—infolklore, old wives' tales, and the memories of those who walked the hedgerowsbefore us.

Sometimesthose are the stories worth following.

Untilnext week, may your path be green, your shelves well stocked, and yourcuriosity forever rooted in the old ways.

 

 

INDIGO, THE DEEP

By Kellye Abernathy

Teen and YA Coming of Age Fantasy

Publisher: Atmosphere Press

Publication Date: July 7, 2026

SYNOPSIS

“In the heart of the deepest sea caverns, there is a stillness. Learn to surrender to it.”

Fifteen-year-old Condi Bloom knows the magic will happen again. The autumn equinox is looming. Strange currents are sweeping through her coastal town. Tides are turning wild, and a mercurial mist cloaks the lonely rock tower known as Windy Hollow, long believed to be haunted.

When a silent threat glides into the cove, altering the fragile ecosystem and drawing sharks close to shore, Condi ignores the danger. A fierce surfer, she insists on pushing her skills to the limit, hoping to heal a broken heart. Meanwhile, seventeen-year-old Firth Cristo, a bold free diver, is tormented by a past he cannot reveal. Guided by the Beachlings, the mystical women who teach the secrets of the deep, he dares to explore remote underwater sea caverns, navigating the pulsing tides of a shimmering enchantment.

Inspired by the certainty of wonder and the uncertain nature of time, Condi and Firth dive into their rawest places, discovering that healing—of nature, of others, and of themselves—is found in the bounty of a limitless sea.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

YA science-fantasy series: The Aquamarine Surfboard (2022), Amethyst, The Shallows (2024), and Indigo, The Deep (2026). A former wireless business executive and a graduate of the University of Kansas, Kellye teaches practical life skills, creative writing, yoga, and mindfulness within the trauma-survivor community in Plano, Texas. She hopes to inspire healing through body and breath awareness, creativity, consistency, and compassion.   Her joys are many and varied, among them neuroscience, oceanography, swimming, biking, family adventures, and great conversation. She believes in staying curious, showing up, and keeping her heart open. 

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                       Between the Pages and the Hedgerow

There are places where history refuses to sleep.

Notcastles or great cathedrals, but forgotten footpaths edged with yarrow, tangledhedgerows heavy with elder, and moss-covered stones where wise women oncegathered their medicines before dawn. If you stand quietly enough, you canalmost hear them—the soft rustle of linen skirts, the whisper of charms carriedon the wind, the names of healing plants spoken like prayers.

Longbefore medicine came in bottles, healing grew wild.

Thehedgewitch knew where feverfew bloomed after the rain. She gathered mugwortbeneath the moon, tucked sprigs of rosemary above the door, and carried bundlesof thyme to ward away sickness. Every leaf held a story. Every flower carriedmemory. To understand the plants was to understand the land itself.

Thisis the world that has always called to me.

Ihave spent countless hours reading medieval herbals, Saxon charms, Celticfolklore, and forgotten legends, searching for the threads that connect mythwith history. The more I learn, the more I realize that the old stories werenever merely stories. They preserved wisdom—about the seasons, about survival,and about the quiet magic found in everyday life.

Thatfascination has woven itself into every novel I write.

InThe Midsummer Women series, healing herbs are more than ingredients.They are symbols of knowledge passed from woman to woman across generations.Magic isn't about spectacles or spells cast in towers. It lives in carefulhands gathering plants at sunrise, in whispered blessings over a feverishchild, and in women who refused to let ancient wisdom disappear.

Perhapsthat is why hedgewitches continue to fascinate us.

Theystood at the edge of two worlds—the cultivated village and the untamed forest,history and myth, medicine and mystery. They understood that nature healsslowly, that every season has its purpose, and that knowledge earned throughobservation can become something almost sacred.

Ithink we still long for that connection.

Ina world that moves too quickly, there is comfort in slowing down long enough tonotice the scent of crushed lavender, the silver glow of mugwort beneath themoon, or the quiet companionship of an old book whose pages smell faintly ofdust and time.

WhetherI'm writing fiction or wandering through the history of forgotten herbs, I'malways searching for the same thing: the places where the ordinary becomesenchanted.

Theold paths are still there.

Sometimes,all we have to do is step off the road and follow the hedgerow.

Find the Midsummer Women on Amazonand Kindle Unlimited.

 

 

It’s the summer of 1986, and four lifelong friends, Chantilly, Greer, Hayes, and Troy, are celebrating their high school graduation while facing the thought that they are about to go their separate ways. The night ended in tragedy. One is dead, and another is accused of not just murder, but of being the serial killer who has terrorized the small Texas town of Bluesummer.

Jump ahead to 2024 and the accused sits on death row. A lawyer, Joaquin Campos, offers to work on his case, determined to prove that Troy is not the killer. Greer and Hayes are married with grandchildren; they kept the past in the past and moved on with their lives. But the past is about to rear its ugly head and force them to relive that fateful night as they try to discover the actual killer.
Joaquin and his dogged assistant Melrose fight their instant attraction to stay on track. Each keeping a secret from the other. Greer, who has given up work to care for Hayes aged parents, including his father who wrote a definitive book on the Songbird Strangler, begins to doubt some of what she believed to be true about that fateful night. As more information comes to light, doubts creep in about her husband, once in love with the murdered girl. She is determined to see justice done.

I previously read A River of Crows by Shanessa Gluhm. The Bones Nest is a taut psychological thriller which kept me up late turning the pages. Every time I thought I had it figured out, the author slips in a new clue, a new twist, a lie uncovered, a motive revealed. Gluhm has perfected the art of red herrings, false leads and I didn’t see that comings!
As you can tell, I really loved this book. I think it would make a great movie! 5⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐all the way!

  

 

SummerHerbs & Healing: The Green Magic of Midsummer

Summeris the season when the old hedgewitch would gather her medicine. Fields humwith bees, hedgerows overflow with fragrant blossoms, and every leaf seems tohold a little of the sun's power. Around the Summer Solstice, many Europeanfolk traditions believed herbs reached the height of their healing and magicalstrength, making this the perfect time to harvest.

Inmedieval villages, cunning women and wise healers walked the woodland edges atdawn with baskets in hand. They knew that timing mattered. Herbs gathered on Midsummer'sEve or at sunrise on the solstice were believed to carry the greatest virtue—notonly for healing the body but for protecting the spirit.

Here are a few of summer's mosttreasured allies:

St.John's Wort

Traditionallygathered around the feast of St. John, this sunny yellow flower was prized longbefore Christianity. Medieval healers used it to soothe wounds, calm troubledminds, and ward away melancholy. Folklore claimed it could drive away evilspirits and protect the home from misfortune.

Yarrow

Knownas the soldier's herb, yarrow was carried into battle to stop bleeding andspeed healing. Ancient herbalists also believed it sharpened intuition andcould be used in love divination. Hanging bundles of yarrow near the doorwaywas said to keep illness from crossing the threshold.

Mugwort

Theherb of dreams and travelers, mugwort was burned as incense, woven intomidsummer garlands, or tucked beneath a pillow to encourage vivid visions.Medieval folk believed it protected those walking lonely roads and strengthenedone's connection to the unseen world.

Lavender

Beyondits familiar fragrance, lavender was a treasured cleansing herb. It wasscattered across floors to sweeten the home, steeped in baths for relaxation,and burned to purify spaces. In magical traditions, it invited peace, gentlesleep, and loving energy.

Chamomile

Thishumble daisy-like flower soothed aching stomachs, calmed anxious hearts, andwas often added to healing teas. In folk magic, chamomile also attractedprosperity and encouraged good fortune, making it as lucky as it was medicinal.

   

Harvestingwith Intention

Oldherbalists rarely rushed into gathering plants. Many whispered a blessing, lefta small offering of bread or water, or simply paused to thank the earth beforecutting a stem. The relationship between healer and herb was one of respectrather than ownership.

Whetheror not you practice magic, there is something timeless about slowing down,feeling the warmth of the sun, and recognizing that healing often begins withpaying attention to the natural world.

Thissummer, step outside. Brush your fingers across the lavender, breathe in thescent of yarrow, or watch chamomile sway in the breeze. The old ways remind usthat every hedge, meadow, and woodland path still has a story to tell—for thosewilling to listen. 

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Read my Midsummer Women Series onAmazon and Kindle Unlimited!

  

  TheSummer Solstice: Ancient Fires, Sacred Sunlight, and Modern Magic

Everyyear, around June 21st, the Northern Hemisphere experiences the SummerSolstice—the longest day and shortest night of the year. For thousands ofyears, this turning point in the sun's journey has inspired celebration,ritual, and reverence among cultures across Europe.

Knowntoday by many modern pagans as Litha, the Summer Solstice is a time ofabundance, fertility, growth, and light. But long before the term"Litha" was popularized, ancient peoples marked this powerful momentin their own unique ways.

TheSummer Solstice in Ancient Europe

Toearly European peoples, the sun was far more than a source of light. Itgoverned the growing season, determined harvest success, and often representeddivine power itself.

TheSummer Solstice marked the peak of the sun's strength. Yet it also carried abittersweet reminder: from this day forward, the sunlight would slowly begin towane. It was both a celebration of abundance and an acknowledgment that allthings must eventually change.

AcrossEurope, communities gathered to feast, dance, kindle sacred fires, and honorthe forces that sustained life.

CelticSolstice Traditions

Whilethe Celts left few written records of their religious practices, folklore andlater traditions provide clues about how midsummer was celebrated.

Bonfireswere central to many Celtic festivities. Villagers gathered on hilltops tolight great fires, believing the flames carried protective and purifyingpowers. People and livestock were sometimes led around or between fires tobless them and ensure health during the coming year.

Sacredwells and springs also played an important role. Water gathered at midsummerwas thought to possess healing properties, especially when collected atsunrise.

Thesolstice was seen as a liminal time when the veil between worlds grew thin.Fairies, spirits, and otherworldly beings were believed to roam more freely,making it a potent night for divination and magic.

Manyof the flower and herb traditions associated with midsummer—gathering mugwort,St. John's wort, yarrow, and meadowsweet—have roots in Celtic folk practices.

Anglo-SaxonMidsummer Celebrations

Forthe Anglo-Saxons, Midsummer was one of the most important points of the year.

Althoughmuch of their pagan religion was lost after Christianization, survivingfolklore suggests that midsummer was a season of feasting, communitygatherings, and ritual observances tied to fertility and prosperity.

TheAnglo-Saxons paid close attention to the cycles of nature. The longest daymarked the height of summer's power and the fullness of the growing season.

Herbsgathered at midsummer were believed to possess enhanced medicinal and magicalvirtues. This belief survived into medieval England and appears in numerousherbal traditions and folk remedies.

Midsummerwas also associated with protection. Charms, wreaths, and bundles of sacredplants were hung in homes and barns to guard against illness, misfortune, andwandering spirits.

Manyscholars believe that sacred trees, springs, and boundary places were importantsites for seasonal gatherings, where communities renewed social bonds andhonored local spirits or deities.

SolsticeCelebrations Across Europe

ThroughoutEurope, midsummer festivals shared common themes:

Lighting bonfires

Dancing and feasting

Gathering magical herbs

Honoring fertility and abundance

Seeking blessings for crops and livestock

Divination and love magic

Celebrating community and kinship

InScandinavia, people raised maypole-like structures and decorated them withgreenery. Across many regions, flower crowns became symbols of beauty,fertility, and the life-giving power of summer.

Thoughcustoms varied, the message remained the same: life was flourishing, and thecommunity paused to celebrate the gifts of the season.

ModernPagan Celebrations

Today,many pagans, witches, and nature-based spiritual practitioners celebrate theSummer Solstice as a festival of light, growth, and gratitude.

Modernobservances often blend historical traditions with personal spiritualpractices.

Somepeople attend public festivals, while others prefer quiet rituals at home.There is no single "correct" way to celebrate. The spirit of thesolstice is found in honoring the sun, the earth, and the abundance surroundingus.

Waysto Celebrate the Summer Solstice at Home

Watchthe Sunrise or Sunset

Beginor end the day by spending time outdoors. Take a moment to appreciate thelongest day of the year and reflect on the blessings currently growing in yourlife.

Createa Solstice Altar

Decoratea small space with seasonal flowers, herbs, candles, sun symbols, crystals, andmeaningful objects that represent abundance and joy.

GatherSummer Herbs

Harvestherbs from your garden or purchase fresh bundles from a local market.Traditional midsummer herbs include:

Mugwort

Yarrow

Chamomile

Lavender

Rosemary

St. John's Wort

Drythem for future magical or medicinal use.

Lighta Candle or Bonfire

Iflocal laws permit, enjoy a small fire outdoors. Otherwise, light a gold oryellow candle to symbolize the sun's strength and vitality.

Makea Flower Crown

Oneof the simplest and most beautiful solstice traditions is weaving flowers intoa crown. Wear it during meditation, ritual, or simply while spending time innature.

Sharea Seasonal Feast

Celebratethe abundance of summer with fresh fruits, berries, honey, bread, and gardenvegetables. Invite friends or family to join you.

PracticeGratitude

TheSummer Solstice is a perfect time to acknowledge what has flourished in yourlife. Write down your accomplishments, blessings, and hopes for the remainderof the year.

TheMagic of the Longest Day

TheSummer Solstice reminds us that life moves in cycles. The sun reaches itshighest point, flowers bloom in brilliant color, and the earth overflows withabundance. Yet even at this moment of fullness, change has already begun.

Forancient Celts, Anglo-Saxons, and countless other European peoples, midsummerwas a sacred pause—a chance to celebrate life's gifts while honoring theturning of the seasons.

Whetheryou gather around a bonfire, weave flowers into a crown, harvest herbs, orsimply watch the sunset, the Summer Solstice invites us to slow down, step intothe light, and celebrate the beauty of the world around us.