a month with cleavers
There’s a poem by E E Cummings in viva, that begins ‘somewhere I have never travelled’ and includes the lines:
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility;
Those lines always remind me of my children as newborn babies and of the earliest Spring flowers and herbs:
snowdrops
primrose
violets
cleavers
I have spent the month with cleavers — delicate and powerful, unasuming and transformative…
Sticky weed
sticky willie
bedstraw
goosegrass.
Cleavers has long square-shaped thin stems covered in fine hairs that make it stick to animals and clothes. The long oval leaves grow directly from the stem in rosettes or whorls with 6-8 in each rosette and the whorls are spaced apart.
Later in the season, tiny four-petalled white flowers will grow directly from the stem.
Back in December I did some journalling around the Celtic idea of the body as three cauldrons —
Coire Gioriath — the cauldron of warning — our grounded base, our animal body and its vtiality.
Coire Emma — the cauldron of calling and how we move and are moved by sorrow and joy, the centre and heart of us.
Coire Sas — the cauldron of Awen (inspiration) — our creativity, wisdom, art and vision.
For this third cauldron, the herb that emerged for me was cleavers.
This winding, dancing plant is a herb of water — full of bright green flow and emotion. He grows upwards, a tongue of light that trails round other plants for support as it grows — light, sticky (the children’s name for cleavers is ‘sticky willy’), bursting with energy and sinuous movement. A herb of fluidity.
Flow. So important in our bodies — lymph, blood, energy. So vital to how we create and inhabit the world.
I am someone prone to stillness. I easily become sedentary. Cleavers invites something different, the willingness to move, to turn, to change direction, to not get stuck. Despite the ‘stickiness’ of cleavers (thanks to tiny hairs on the leaves and stems that attach to clothes, animals, other plants) there is nothing stiff and stuck here, but instead a balletic grace. Cleavers entwines with other creatures and plants — he forms relationships, but doesn’t smother any more than it distances. A healthy poise between collaboration and dependency for a herb that is a tonic, aids recovery after illness, hydrates, heals inflamed skin and promotes lymphatic flow.
Cleavers (Gallium aparine) offers so many cooling, soothing gifts. He lowers blood pressure, improves digestion by stimulating bile flow from liver and acts as a diuretic to support the liver in clearing, helping with urinary tract infections and irritable bladder. As a lymphatic tonic cleavers’ promotion of lymph circulation helps to purify blood, and eases congestion in swollen glands. He modulates inflammation so is helpful with arthritis and gout and generally enhances immune function; helpful for fevers and for chronic fatigue.
Cleavers is a balm for chronic skin conditions like eczema, acne, boils, rosacea, psoriasis and eruptive infections such as measles and chickenpox. And also makes a gentle and effective wash for cuts, grazes or a hair rinse for dandruff. Cleavers makes an instant poultice for bug bites and nettle stings— grab a handful, crush it to make the juices flow (you can also chew some) and apply it to the bite or sting. (You can use plantain leaves in a similar way).
cooling
calming
soothing
easing
cleansing
flowing
Herbs of water are always herbs of cleansing and herbs of emotions. In cleavers case, lowering the temperature, smoothing the way.
What needs to move?
How do your emotions flow through you?
What needs to be washed away?
Where is there heaviness that needs to be lightened?
tides
moon
river
immersion
What do you cleave to or entwine with and how healthy is this?
What do you want to wash away?
We have a garden that floods in winter. A gentle young river becomes a raging torrent bursting its banks to make a lake of the land. Gentleness and power. This transparent liquid that seems so ordinary, that is the stuff of life. Cleavers, like other herbs of the water element, sings with the power of intense fragility.
In February cleavers is abundant and fresh and makes a wonderful morning drink:
Cleavers water with lemon
Cleavers is generally a very safe plant, but a tiny percentage of people do react to it. It’s not a serious reaction, but if you get a rash from harvesting it, it’s not for you. It has a wonderful light, green taste — something between lettuce and cucumber and very refreshing.
The infused water is a refreshing early morning drink in spring, getting the lymph moving, and it’s simple to make. Just chop fresh cleavers into water and add some slices of fresh or preserved lemon. Leave in the fridge overnight, strain and drink the next morning.
Cleavers Juice
This is a variation on the water and makes a stronger juice. Simply blend freshly picked cleavers (stems and leaves) with a small amount of water and strain. (The stems are fibrous so it takes a good blender). It tastes grassy and fresh. Add a teaspoon to a long glass of water and drink. It’s high in minerals and vitamins and supports the kidneys and urinary tract, as well as promoting lymph circulation. And the juice is also cooling and soothing when applied it to a minor burn or scratches. (The juice does go off quickly — 1 or 2 days maximum, but you can freeze fresh juice in ice cubes for longer storage.)