Sharon's blog: Love this!

Years ago when I was wandering the mountains with Aunt Bett, I knew it as vervain.  Somewhere along the way I'd heard it called a 'Love Potion' and when I was about 12 and beginning to see boys as something more than a mere nuisance, I began to think in terms of my future as a wife and mother.

It had a history, a very long history.  Known through the ages as a holy plant, a plant that could ward off evil, a plant that would for sure scare away vampires, and a plant that would cause your true love to love you right back - this little purple flowered stalk of a plant became nothing short of powerful to me.

It grew wild in the mountains and unlike the one that has graced my garden this year, it bloomed progressively upward on its stalk. 

Vervain (Verbena officinalis) Uploaded by Calif_Sue

Aunt Bett didn't seem to use it for anything in particular, but she did dry the leaves and added them as an herb to some foods and steeped them in hot water as a tea.  She called it a tonic.

"Tonics keeps things from ailin' you," she said.

It was one of Aunt Bett's many preventative measures.

So when I was just at the edge of my teens, I started drying leaves too.  I sprinkled them like herbs on the grilled cheese sandwiches I made for the only boy I had ever tolerated, the one who climbed trees faster than I could and the one who taught me to ride a sled down that curvy snow covered mountain hollow without crashing.  I wanted to make sure he loved me right back.

When it sneaked its way into my garden this year I had to look twice and search to see what it was, this stranger that looked vaguely familiar. 

Tall Verbena (Verbena bonariensis) Uploaded by Calif_Sue

I didn't plant it, and it's only one single stalk, but I hope it enjoyed its visit and I hope it returns. Some say it's invasive, and if so maybe it will invade a little corner of my garden.  I have plenty of room and it's such a lovely perky bloom.  And it brings back sweet memories.

I think I've outgrown the need for a love potion, but love works in unusual ways.  Though miles and years apart, that same young man who ate those dried leafy herbs on his grilled cheese sandwiches and who taught me to sail down those rough icy mountain roads on a sled has been one of my best friends for all these years.

I think friendships count.

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