Beach Roses and Blueberry Leaves
I always want to feel close to nature and at the same time I’m afraid that if I really try, I’ll fail. Globalization alienates us from the landscape that surrounds us. I’ve lived in the Northeast my whole life, but the woods, fungi, and greenery feel unknowable and intimidating. I walk around my home in Portland, ME and pass dandelions, sorrel, and violets - the makings of a foraged salad. Yet, I go to Hannaford to buy “Spring mix.” Sumac trees grow along the Eastern and Western promenades that bookend my city; their flowers can add a delicious tangy flavor to aiolis and spice rubs. If I want sumac I go to the local Coop and scoop it from a glass jar on the shelf instead of walking up the hill outside my house with a pair of cutting shears. The sweet, floral aroma of beach roses shrouds the Maine coast all summer, their petals, once dried, are perfectly suited for adding fragrance to body oils. The trendy cafe and boutique in my neighborhood sells rose-infused oil made in Brooklyn in 2oz bottles for eighteen dollars.
On our recent trip to South Greenland, I was able to experience the landscape in a whole new way. Greenland has definitely engaged in the process of globalization; the US presence in Greenland during WWII brought about a new era of global connectivity in terms of technology and trade. However, the remote nature of Greenland and the challenges of the climate (sometimes the ice in the fjords makes it impossible for supply ships to reach the settlements for months at a time) mean that Greenlanders still maintain generations of knowledge about the utility of the flora and fauna in their homeland.
We were lucky enough to spend a day hiking in Qassiarsuk with our Greenlandic host Ellen. Ellen runs a large sheep farm with her husband, is one of the two teachers at the local school, and runs a number of guest houses that cater to tourists during the summer months. On our hike, Ellen introduced us to many of the native plants in the region and shared the uses of each. Downy birch for salads, wild mountain thyme for flavoring lamb, angelica for pickling, and juniper and blueberry leaves for tea. Rhubarb leaves from the garden can be used to dye yarn a brilliant chartreuse and black lichen from the rocks produces a deep purple. As we walked, moving from human road to sheep path, I began to look at each piece of greenery beneath my feet and wonder at its natural properties.
Our group purchased some plant identification books about South Greenland and I spent the remainder of my free time in Greenland going off into the hills, walking carefully, photographing each new species of plant I encountered, and identifying it. I was further energized in this pursuit by the realization that many of the plants native to Greenland are also native to my home in Maine. After three weeks I had a mini encyclopedia of plants and their uses running through my head. By no means was I an expert on Greenlandic vegetation, but I was learning. I learned as much about foraging in my three weeks in Greenland as I learned in my entire lifetime in the Northeast. Somehow being thousands of miles away made me feel the closest to my home landscape that I have ever felt. I now know that I have the capacity to learn the uses and powers of the natural world; and I am excited to put this new layer of understanding to use in Maine.