THE SUSTAINABLE LIFE

Sebastian Cox shares his love of foraging

Ifind myself breathing sighs of satisfaction on spring mornings as our native flora begin their annual cycles. I reckon this joy of April is rooted in our foraging past. Before farming, the cold season menu was nuts, roots, berries and meat – hard or risky to source and by late winter, scarce or tedious. When trees and herbs start to unfold their leaves, the increased availability of food would have brought a relaxed calmness to our preagricultural ancestors. Or, at least, I suppose this as I’m picking some leaves for lunch in our local London park, while walking our dog, Willow, ahead of a busy day in the studio.

In our woods in Kent, where the sap of our coppiced trees is rising, beech and hawthorn are offering their edible leaves, palatable when young. The wood sorrel, wild garlic and ground elder turn the woodland floor from leaf-litter brown to edible chlorophyll green. Woodland flora is in a rush at this time of year, getting their photosynthesis in before the trees shade them out. This rush is soundtracked by birds marking territory, seeking mates and feeding young. Our ability to walk through a wood and perceive this frantic and aggressive survival activity as peaceful, proves our relaxed disposition in spring as other species fight it out.

At lunchtime in the workshop we replace bagged salad with dandelion, sorrel, mallow and garlic mustard I foraged on my walk with Willow. These washed weeds are being tucked into sandwiches in the tea room, politely by some, humouring my enthusiasm. I have been known to pick the latter herb – also known as Jack-by-the-hedge (Jack being a nickname for the devil whose breath was thought to smell of garlic) – in motorway service car parks, adding it to a bland egg sandwich in a small protest at the state of packaged food. I recommend it, taking the leaves in for a wash before eating, of course.

I strongly believe how and what we consume is key to fighting our modern ecological issues. We must refuse or reduce, reuse and regenerate land. The only way we can truly decrease our impact is to develop an emotional sympathy with the wild world.

A large study earlier this year showed that people with access to green spaces are more likely to make greener choices. We must take this science seriously. This research is a call to policymakers for more green spaces, but I also read it as a call to citizens to discover and take time to notice their green spaces, too. Once you are attuned to what the weeds may provide for us and other wild creatures, even the plants conquering gaps on urban railway stations become green spaces of value, alongside our parks.

So my advice this spring is to begin with a foraging course (expert guidance is needed with foraging), and tune in to your surroundings more. Perhaps instead of walking through your local woods or heathland chatting, do so quietly so you hear more, or perhaps ditch the walk for a long sit at the foot of a tree in a wild space and see what comes to you. You might find yourself noticing some edible leaves and eventually seeing, feeling, hearing, smelling and tasting the natural world. You can book a foraging course at wildfooduk.com or totallywilduk.co.uk.