Time for another periodic peek at this year’s garden experiment, and another opportunity to explore the influence of plants on human history. This blog is all about documenting and sharing things I learn and today, thanks to several Twitter posts by talented historians, I was prompted to do a bit of digging into the history of Lammas Day. (As always, I am not an expert, but rather a continual learner; any mistakes are solely my own!)

What is Lammas Day?

Traditionally celebrated on August 1 and observed in Scotland, Ireland, Northern Ireland, Wales, and England as a Christian holiday, Lammas Day celebrates the first grain harvest of the season. The term ‘Lammas’ (or ‘Loaf-Mass’) stems from the Old English ‘hlaf-mas,’ and medieval customs included baking a loaf from the first grain sheath harvested. The Celtic festival known as Lughnasadh also marked this early stage of the harvest season and celebrated the sun god, Lugh. 

Today, the names are often blended or used to denote a general harvest observance, though they have rich and distinct histories in each culture. By either name, these celebrations also mark the halfway point between the summer solstice and the autumnal equinox, making August 1 a cross-quarter day on the lunar calendar.  

Garden Status on Lammas Day

On this August 1, my garden (and much of the Midwest) has been suffering after several weeks of extremely hot, dry conditions. It’s been miserable for humans, and even the most sun-loving plants have felt the strain. I must also admit: due to circumstances of…well, life…I’ve had less time to spend taking care of the garden lately, so I take responsibility for the effects of the mild state of neglect I’ve left it in. In the past couple of days, the weather has cooled down a bit, so combined with more regular watering, things are generally springing back fairly well. 

Of course, my garden does not include any grains, so the bread-baking aspect of a traditional Lammas Day wasn’t an option. However, some sources I consulted today indicated that, in addition to grains, four herbs are also commonly harvested on this day: meadowsweet, mint, sunflower and calendula. 

Calendula

Calendula is one of my favorites; it was one of the very first medicinal herbs I grew. Now it is an old friend that I love to greet again each year, and its bright, cheerful blooms that proliferate during the sunniest days of summer seem tied to the sun itself. I can easily understand the association between its harvest and this holiday,, marking the start of the transition from midsummer’s sunny dominance into the season when the earth starts to prepare for its rest. 

This season, the calendula in my garden have bloomed continuously and well since late May. Since I have limited space and therefore only a relative few plants, I do my best to prune the flowers at their peak to encourage the plants to continue flowering. Preserving the flowers at this time also retains the highest levels of medicinal benefit for the preparations I’ll make with them later. 

I knew what I’d find when I went out to see the calendula today: since I hadn’t been diligent in pruning for the past couple of weeks, I knew many of the flowers would have gone to seed by this time. In some ways, I was disappointed; I missed the beauty of so many golden flowers all at once. At the same time, however, I prepped myself to look on the bright side of a less-than-ideal gardening situation, which is something I’ve been trying to do more consciously this year. 

Instead of seeing flowers missing petals and dried past the point of much medicinal value, I strove to value them as the seeds for next year’s crop; this year’s plants passing on their legacy to begin anew next spring. In past years, I haven’t let blooms go to seed if I could help it, preferring instead to amass what they could offer immediately. Of course, that resulted in the need to purchase brand new plants or seeds each season. This year, I’ve tried to take a more measured approach – one that means I can take what I need from this year’s crop to make needed preparations for myself, family and friends, but that also encourages the plant to fulfill its natural life cycle and leaves us room to grow together next year.

I’ll leave you tonight with these snapshots from today’s calendula visit. As you can see, I trimmed quite a few spent flowers, which I’ll allow to dry so that I can preserve those seeds for next spring. Despite the neglect these plants have suffered in the past week or two, they are still persevering with new blooms – and now that they’ve received a refreshing trim, I hope we’ll see still more lovely flowers in the waning days of summer.