I did not notice the faint hum of honeybees until I had almost finished planting a row of potatoes on Thursday evening. The bees flew in wide arcs close to the ground. Sometimes, they alighted on a small purple flower named All-Heal, Self Heal or officially Prunella Vulgaris.

Just last week, a friend and I had been mesmerized by a flurry of bees in the branches of basket willows that grow in the lowest part of my garden. A young friend had given me three-foot long slips just after I moved to the farm some fifteen years ago. Now the trees, some thirty feet wide and high, were so abuzz that I felt my nerves shift in resonance with the bee's vibration. It was unforgettable.

I had read in Enzo Nastati's Basic Biodynamic Agriculture in 9 Meetings, that bees are obedient: they will harvest all of one type of flower before they move on to the next. I never saw the bees in the willows again; now I was seeing them fly into the Self-Heal.

In her book, How To Move Like A Gardener., herbalist Deb Soule describes Self-Heal as a non-native wildflower. “ Collect the beautiful bluish-purple flowering tops soon after the flowers open and lay them on screens to dry,”she advises. Add them to any healing tea or to a healing bath, she adds. She recommends using Self-Heal with calendula, yarrow and rose petals in a tea or sitz-bath for a woman who has experienced any kind of sexual trauma. Its name, she says, reminds us that the body has its own ability to heal, internally and externally.

Now I marveled that this plant, one I had barely noticed before, had so much to offer, especially this season, as the coronavirus pandemic affects us in ways we had not foreseen. I am becoming more aware of being present to what is present in the garden and more aware of herbs and their power to heal. I had lived along side this plant for so long. Perhaps this year, I was led to it by bees....

I had prepared to run errands on Friday morning because the forecast called for showers. No showers came. The sun came out and dried the moisture from the flowers. I checked my gardening calendar: the day especially suited for working on fruit and flowers. Morning on a fruit day, in light sun, as moisture dried off the plants: it was close to an ideal time for harvesting flowers, especially since more rain was predicted over the weekend.

I postponed my run to town for an hour and headed into the garden, tub and scissors in hand. Self-Heal bloomed profusely in several beds that overwintered. Soon I I crouched near the ground, bees buzzing around me; I scouted for flowers as bees scouted for pollen. I snipped the flower heads with one hand, gathered them with the other and threw them into the tub. I felt at home with myself and with the work.

I brought the flowers to the shed and spread them on drying racks. The flowers, writes Deb Soule, can be used as an herbal tea, can be infused in oil, can be made into a tincture, can be used as an antiseptic wash or as a poultice for healing cuts and wounds.

I hope to invite others to join me in the garden next Wednesday and Thursday, flower days,  to harvest more. I imagine women crouching close to the plants. Surrounded by the subtle buzzing of bees to heal their nerves, these women will feel the plants share their vital essence. In her book, Deb writes that another common name for this plant is “Heart of the Earth.” Imagine healing the heart of the earth as the heart of the earth brings healing to us.

What a lovely imagination!

P.S. A friend read my post and identified the plant as dead nettle, not all heal--it is still a healing herb, just not the one I described. So sorry for my mistake.