Praising the Nettles of This World
Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," a space where we all-too-often forget our primary mission: to praise the Ancient Ones!
I have a friend named Nettle. You might think that a rather savage name, but stinging nettles are actually tasty, if you know how to cook them. So Nettle says, and I believe her.
I imagine my friend Nettle, humming over a merry pot of nettle soup, as she gazes out upon her little urban garden.
Today the bored Goddess Airmid asked me to salute Nettle for her talent as an herbalist. Nettle made me a homeopathic tincture for arthritis, using Solomon's Seal. It has proven every bit as effective as those awful pills we always tend to swallow in these modern times.
There's something very primal and holy about the taste of Solomon's Seal, as if every growing thing on earth had been swirled into one single mixture. Once again I can see sweet Nettle, mixing and boiling and testing her medicines, in a way that was ancient before Eve was born.
Who was the first person to taste an oyster? Who was the first to pluck a sprig of mugwort and munch it? These are the Ancient Ones. Much of their wisdom is lost to our snobbery, our stubborn conviction that everything today is better than it was in the day.
I will lie in the long grass, thinking of Nettle as she creates delicious soups and healing medicines. I will thank the Great Goddess Airmid for endowing this talent upon Nettle.
And then I will pluck a savory blade of grass, stuff it between my thumbs, and shatter the silence with my squawks. Because you know me. And so does Nettle, and so does Airmid.
THE MERLIN OF BERKELEY SPRINGS