WILD PROSPECTS
Lulu Urquhart of Urquhart & Hunt on her love of the majestic hawthorn tree and its importance in our gardens
IN 2022, Adam and I entered an ecologically oriented garden into the RHS Chelsea Flower Show and on our arrival on site for the build, one of the most significant things I noticed was how many hawthorns were being delivered to the showground. It was that same year that Project Giving Back launched its sponsorship of 12 gardens; the most radical and heart opening sponsorship that the Chelsea Flower Show had ever seen. This sponsorship allowed gardens for small charities to be built which otherwise would never have had the funds or resources to enter the show. As a result, the charities chosen by designers were those which focused on nature and wellness, both mental and physical, with a view to creating a platform from which to discuss and promote their core values. Project Giving Back brought a presence to the Show that was the impetus for a major shift to come.
The prolific presence of hawthorn, a tree otherwise known as May, around the showground was of little surprise to me. That this deeply symbolic, magical, medicinal plant was chosen for multiple show gardens during the year when we created our Rewilding Britain garden felt predestined: a heart opening presence. And the positive light in which our scrambling, all-native plant collections, wild, unkempt hedgerows and sticks gnawed by beavers was then received, spoke to the eagerness within people’s hearts to connect to the wildlife, wildness and our wild plants of Britain.
The noteworthiness of the hawthorn cannot be overstated, from its significance in pagan traditions, to its medicinal properties, its appearance in writings and paintings of the English countryside and its support of hundreds of insects, birds and mammals. One example of this is the small Oak Eggar, a beautiful, very social, fluffy brown moth with delicate cream markings. Moths play a crucial role in supporting plant communities, accounting for a third of all pollination in flowering plants, crops and trees. This moth has been in decline since the 1970s due to harsh hedgerow cutting regimes and intensive roadside mowing that destroys its habitat and damages cocoons during pupation. Considered nationally scarce in Britain, it is attracted to hawthorns because the branch structure makes it easy for the caterpillars to form their silk cocoons where many caterpillars live together in a colony before becoming moths. Hawthorn provides a wonderful piece of the mosaic of thirds in our gardens, the vital scrub-shrub layer between the higher trees of the upper canopy, such as ash or oak, and the lower-level perennials, meadows or water bodies; a middle layer that invariably enables wildlife to navigate through nature safely.
Last year’s hawthorn harvest was the strongest I’ve ever seen. In the spring, every branch was laden with bursting flowers and later in the year the hedgerows
and the landscape glowed so red, boughs massed with hawthorn berries. I was constantly reminded to keep making its medicine, to continue collecting the berries and soaking them to create tinctures. These red berries are loaded with antioxidants, providing a gentle, nourishing boost to the heart and blood system.
The deep lip-red ‘haws’ are wonderful to use as a preventative for ailments of the heart, both physically and metaphysically. The leaves also aid our digestion, cutting through fats and by doing so, they lower our cholesterol. My son loves this leaf; it is his favourite forage. He walks through the woods, nibbling hawthorn leaves for their sweet nutty flavour. It’s known widely amongst foragers as a salad addition in spring, with the leaves containing medicinal compounds. The flowers have an almond flavour and can be sprinkled on food.
Beltane is the festival of these ancient lands that is celebrated in May, as the hawthorn blossoms, with garlands of greenery and blossom, as seen in Chaucer’s The Knight’s Tale: ‘To make him a garland of the greves, Were it of woodbine or of hawthorn leaves.’ After the long winter, we call on our ancient figures and celebrate them. The Green Man is a folkloric figure linked to this time of year, appearing in carvings across the country for two thousand years as the image of a man made from vegetation, or growing it from his mouth, beard or hair. He represents the sun, rebirth and the hope of harvest, as well as the abundant lushness of the broadleaf woods.
The May Queen is also central to this time: gilded with hawthorn blossom, her white face and red lips convey fertility and a natural abundance. The May Queen is the maiden or lover aspect of the pagan goddess trinity, consisting of the maiden, the mother and the crone, each symbolising the phases of a woman’s life. She is youthful, fruity, abundant and vital, which all connects so deeply with hawthorn. She is the Guinevere in the Arthurian cycle and Maid Marian in the tales of Robin Hood. She has a presence at Beltane, marking our transition from spring to summer, uniting with the Green Man in a celebration of cleansing fire, vitality and new life. She is, to me and to many, an embodiment of the Wild Earth herself.
I feel that in contemporary life, ‘fertility’ has become a more sterilised term, referring to sperm counts and Petri dish statistics; a modern set of signifiers that are disconnected from our collective primordial fertility, our Green Man, our May Queen. These are our ancient symbols of fertility and with them, the hawthorn tree which epitomises our connection to the heart of the earth and all that is fertile around us. Nature provides exactly what we need. The calling of the hawthorn is like the calling-in of the energy of a dear, trusted friend.
For 10 years I have been living with three hawthorns in my garden, standing together in a triangle formation. I see them as the three graces, and since our arrival at our home in Somerset, I have learned from them and harnessed their nourishing properties. It will no doubt take me at least 10 more years to wholly appreciate the magic and medicine that hawthorn blesses us with. As we do on many projects, I encourage you to plant hawthorn close to your homes; its root system will not interfere with well built terraces or foundations, and its proximity will allow you to connect to all parts of the tree’s seasonality, medicine and ecology more closely. This May, I hope you can sit with hawthorn with an open and listening heart; observe, forage and celebrate this tree that we are so blessed to live alongside.