The Late Spring Harvest: Reading the Hedgerow in May

Season: Late Spring (April–May)

By the time May arrives in Sussex, the landscape has made its intentions clear. The hedgerows are thick with growth, the elder is reaching upward, the cow parsley foams white along every lane. Spring is no longer tentative — it is fully committed, and the forager must move quickly to meet it.

Late spring offers a different harvest from early spring. Where March and April gave us the bitter, mineral, lymphatic plants — the cleansers and movers — May brings aromatic herbs, nervines, and the first of the flowering medicines. The emphasis shifts from cleansing to nourishing, from stimulating to sustaining.

This is a good time to pay attention. What the land produces in abundance in any given season is often what the human body needs most.

Hawthorn Blossom — Crataegus monogyna

The hawthorn blossom — known in folk tradition as may blossom — is one of the most significant medicinal harvests of the British year, and it is available now. The white flowers appear in dense clusters, sweetly scented, briefly abundant. Pick them on a dry day in the morning, before the sun has drawn off the volatile oils.

Hawthorn is, above all else, a heart herb. Not in the sentimental sense, though it carries deep symbolic weight in the folk tradition of this land — but in the physiological sense. It supports cardiovascular function, acts as a gentle peripheral vasodilator, and has a well-established evidence base for supporting heart muscle integrity over time. It is also a profound nervous system herb: deeply calming, steadying, particularly useful for the anxiety that lives in the chest.

A hawthorn blossom infusion — fresh flowers steeped for ten minutes in just-boiled water — is simple and effective. You can also pack the flowers into honey for a medicine that will last through the year.

In clinical practice, hawthorn is a plant I return to repeatedly — particularly with clients who carry emotional weight in the heart space, whose terrain registers grief or chronic worry.

Elderflower — Sambucus nigra

The elder flowers a little later than hawthorn — often from mid-May into June — but in warm years you may find the first flower heads opening now. The elder is a boundary plant in every sense: it grows at the margins of woodland and field, at the edges of gardens and waste ground. It has always occupied liminal space.

The flowers are among our finest diaphoretics — they promote perspiration and help the body release heat, making them particularly useful in the early stages of a cold or flu. They also have an affinity with the respiratory mucous membranes and have long been used for conditions involving the sinuses, ears, and upper airways.

Collect flower heads only when fully open and fragrant. Shake gently to remove insects before use, and process within a day or two of picking — the volatile constituents dissipate quickly. A hot infusion from fresh flower heads is the simplest medicinal preparation; for culinary use, cordial, fritters, and elderflower vinegar are all well worth making.

Wood Avens — Geum urbanum

Wood avens is not a plant that announces itself. It grows in shaded hedgerow bases, woodland margins, the damp edges of paths, and its small yellow flowers could easily be overlooked among the profusion of May. But it rewards attention.

The root of wood avens smells, when freshly dug, distinctly of cloves — it contains eugenol, the same constituent responsible for clove's antimicrobial, carminative action. Wood avens has a long history of use in digestive complaints — bloating, wind, mild cramping, sluggish digestion — and as a warming herb for cold, damp constitutions. The leaves and flowering tops make a mild bitter tea; the root can be dried and used as a spice in its own right.

Walking with Purpose

A foraging walk is not the same as a walk with a collecting basket. The best foragers spend more time observing than picking. They notice how the plants are growing — whether they look vital and unharvested, or stressed and sparse. They read the landscape: what does this plant community tell us about the soil, the water, the history of this place?

Sussex has a particular foraging richness because it has a particular landscape richness — ancient hedgerows, chalk downland, river valleys, old coppiced woodland. These are habitats managed for centuries, often in ways that favour plant diversity. Walking them with attention is an education that no book can fully replace.

The land is generous. We only need to learn how to receive.

Sarah Turton, Master Medicinal Herbalist & Iridologist | Sussex Herbal To join a foraging walk or book a clinical consultation, visit sussexherbal.co.uk