Quiet, Slow, Descend & Decay

Hi all, thank you for subscribing to Little Sister Apothecary. Happy Pisces full moon and lunar eclipse! This newsletter has been a long time coming, so for those who joined in the beginning, thank you for your patience. I’m sure you’ve been so eager to read my musings ;). I’m celebrating the onset of fall by spending the weekend in a small cabin in Homer, playing board games, working on a puzzle, and watching the Great British Bakeoff with my sister. It feels good to create space for activities that I haven’t found time for in many moons, and to finally sit down and write a bit about this shift in the air, as we descend into slower, darker days. My intention is to continue feeding into this newsletter container at least seasonally, or pop in whenever I have something exciting to share- herbal medicine drops, seasonal transitions, fun recipes cycling in my kitchen at the time, folk tales, rituals, whatever it may be.

The first days of September bring a crisp chill to the air and a sense of exhalation within myself. The time is here, the end of another ripe summer, the embrace of turning colors and the beginning of our descent towards the thinning veil. I’ve begun making ginger cinnamon elixirs in the evening and sipping them sweetly as I knit or read my fantasy novel: Clan of the Cave Bear, which carries me to a world predating ours, infused with plant lore and mysticism. Highly recommend. I get lost in romanticizing another way of life, though I know it’s not an easier path than the modern day we live in. I reflect on which parts of my life I can better romanticize. My evening elixir alongside a fantasy novel is an easy one.

Every year I try to lean in further, asking myself “How can I embrace this season fully in my body and schedule?” Alaska is a trying place to put this into practice. Being a land of extremes, she offers us seasons that bring about two different ways of living within them. One is full, every day approaching peak summer bursts with creativity, aliveness, excitement, and let’s be real, anxiety- the urgent need to hike all the mountains, harvest all the things, go camping, and eat as many neighborhood berries and garden carrots as you can, knowing the warm days are limited. It’s juicy and fast-paced. Ripe abundance overflows, as does my capacity for joy and a full plate. Each evening calls for dirty hands, feet in the creek, a night with friends, or crafting something in the kitchen.

The second half of summer, we’ve settled in more, leaning into the fullness of days. Not a weekend in town in sight. It’s exhausting, and yet, among the chaos, I find ways to romanticize the messiness. Beaming with gratitude that my days get to be so full of the faces I love, countertops overwhelmingly covered with garden produce and herbs to process, salmon head broth simmering on the stove and delicious hibiscus lemonade brewing next to it. This is my life, how lucky am I?

Acceptance has set in that the weeks are counting down, there are limited ripe days ahead, so go get the sun on your face and get up that big mountain you’ve been putting off all summer. Jesse and I’s challenge of choice was climbing Matanuska peak this season. Boy, was it hard, but oh so rewarding.

Holding onto the last threads of summer is bittersweet. I’ll miss the long days and lush gardens, but I’m ready to slow down- to deep clean my house, work with clay again, sleep in and spend weekends tending the hearth. As the leaves turn, I’m back to pulling out my stash of wool sweaters and drinking nourishing herbs in the morning. Every September I return to drinking Stinging Nettle infusions, which are so high in vitamins and minerals, she helps to replenish our reserves after a busy summer. Energetically Nettles teach us about boundaries, which proves to be a useful tool this month as I begin to practice saying no to things again.

This last week, I picked apples at a friend's house and turned them into apple butter to spread between cake layers, and tried my hand at making apple cider vinegar from the cores and scraps. I’m preparing for a cranberry and rosehip harvest in the coming weeks to make fire cider and elderberry syrup to support my community’s immune systems throughout the cold months. Fall asks all beings to descend into the earth, back into themselves. It is root time. Let us look to the plants for inspiration. We harvest flowers as they’re in full bloom, but to harvest the roots, we wait for the leaves to decay, the plants drawing their vital energy back into the underbelly. 

I hope you go out and harvest roots and berries in the final month before the frost. May you begin to taste the slowness, it’s a steady transition but if you need permission to allow yourself to rest, here it is. I’m preparing to move homes and then am embarking on a month long road trip through the desert with my two best friends, so needless to say I have some weeks of chaos ahead of me, but I, too, will be looking for the moments in between where I can pause. 

If you’re looking for some herbal assistance to guide you through the season, I’ve been leaning on my herbal tincture called Betwixt & Between - A blend of Butterfly Blue Pea, Blue Lotus and Blue Vervain - crafted to help us soften into the liminal, create space, quiet the busy mind and impending schedule, and be guided into deeper connection with yourself and the worlds around you, both seen and unseen. https://www.littlesisterapothecary.com/shop/p/betwixt-between