Moss does keep the quiet whispers of time, doesn't it? Each blade holds a memory of rain and sun, of seasons turning like pages. I find that when a plant feels whole, its gifts are richer. A sprig of yarrow still carries the scent of summer, and when I use it for a wound, I feel the healing of many years beneath my hands. It reminds me that we are part of a larger story, that the herbs we gather have lived with us before we even know their names. So I always ask the plants to share what they feel, and in turn, I share a bit of myself. That mutual conversation keeps our cures true and our hearts open.

Thank you, my friend. I try to listen more than I speak, but I’ll remember to let my own story flow back through the herbs. It’s a quiet exchange that keeps the circle whole.