After two years of running Nordiska Örter on the new land, I have realised how deeply my work follows the rhythm of the seasons. From herb production to growing the company, everything unfolds like the cycle of nature itself. This article describes how the work behind Nordiska Örter follows the rhythm of the seasons.
Spring – The Beginning
In some cultures, the new year isn’t celebrated in the middle of winter, as we do on January 1st, but instead when sunlight returns, nature awaken and spring arrives. For me, it’s the same. The year truly begins in spring.
The season starts with indoor sowing in March, when the days get longer and the sunlight is finally strong enough for the seeds to germinate. It’s still cold in Sweden, so I must wait until May to plant outdoors. April is for preparing the soil and harvesting roots (I have noticed roots are more generous in early spring than in late autumn, maybe another blog post about that someday). Then comes composting, creating new beds, enriching or cleaning the old ones, adding woodchips, and sowing seeds that go directly into the ground.
Once the land is ready, May arrives with outdoor plantings, except for holy basil, which will be planted early June. It’s also when foraging begins raspberry leaves, roses, and lilacs in bloom. Spring is the season of my first foraging walks, often the gateway for many curious people to enter the world of herbalism. They have the whole season ahead to explore.
By June, everything is planted. Foraging reaches its peak with stinging nettles, elderflowers, and around Midsummer, St. John’s wort. In the garden, everything grows slowly and needs a lot of watering, as June is often dry and sunny in Uppsala. Midsummer marks the end of spring and the beginning of summer, the harvest season.
Summer – The Bloom and the Rush
July is a season of abundance and intensity. In early July, foraging continues with meadowsweet, red clover, more nettles, St. John’s wort, yarrow, and roses still blooming. In the garden, everything grows and blooms quickly. It’s a race against time to harvest each plant at its perfect moment, just before or at the start of flowering, when potency is at its best: sage, motherwort, chamomile, lemon balm, mint, lavender…
By late July, almost everything is flowering, from valerian (the earliest) to echinacea (the latest), with calendula and catmint in between.
August continues where July left off. Once the first round of harvesting is done, the first plants are already ready again for a second harvest. During this time, the drying room is always full, the air heavy with the scent of herbs. Long days blur into evenings spent sorting, drying. It’s a constant dance between the garden and the drying room. The first jars of fresh plants and alcohol fill the shelves, tinctures in the making. It’s the most intense period of the year, and we need several people to keep up.
It is also the most beautiful moment, the garden alive with flowers, with hundreds of bees, bumblebees, flies, ladybirds, and butterflies working day and night for nectar. It’s breathtaking. It’s the time when I open the farm for tours and workshops, to share that beauty and the freshness of the plants.
Summer is also overwhelming. I often feel unbalanced in this season. The rhythm of nature in Sweden is so fast compared to my own. I struggle to keep up and still need to find a strong work structure to avoid exhaustion or burnout.
Autumn – Grounding and Gratitude
When autumn arrives, everything begins to slow down. The air cools, days get shorter. Yet it’s also the moment when there are the most deliveries. It’s both satisfying and heartwarming to see the herbs leaving for your homes, and to feel your appreciation growing season after season. It fills me with joy and gives meaning to all the work. It gives me strength to continue and expand the garden.
I know that each plant harvested, each jar filled, becomes part of something larger. The herbs go to your homes to care for yourselves or your families. Some of you use them in ceremonies or to make remedies. Others end up in local cafés, bringing discovery and a moment of well-being to people who might not yet know the world of herbs but simply come to enjoy a relaxing moment.
For two years now, I have realised I can no longer keep up with the autumn workload alone, completing stock and deliveries after such an intense summer. My mind craves rest. So, I have learned to rely on a second person, someone who hasn’t gone through the exhaustion of summer, to help sustain deliveries, packing, and organisation.
In this moment, I can turn inward. My energy, like the plants', goes back to the roots. I slow down, take time to breathe, to rest, to reflect. I become quieter, less present on social media, more present within myself. It’s a season of introspection and of administration, emails, and accounting, all the things that simply can’t happen in summer. I also look back at the growing season and ask: how much did we produce? Which herbs worked best? What failed? What succeeded? What needs to be adjusted for next year, both in production and in structure?
Winter – Rest, Reflection, and Renewal
Winter is probably my favourite season for my professional life. As an intellectual, I thrive in deep thinking, and winter gives me space for that.
When I have drawn my conclusions from the year, I let myself dream and create again. I plan which herbs to grow, which to pause, which new ones to start. What courses to offer? What goals to set, and how to reach them? I imagine next season’s courses, collaborations, and gatherings. I make space for creativity, for new ideas to quietly take root before spring comes again.
Winter is also the time to reach out to collaborators, to understand their needs for the upcoming year, to plan the season accordingly, to give talks, and to share about local herbalism. I prepare the structure for the next season, recruit interns and volunteers, draw the new garden map, and build the foundation for what’s next.
When all is ready, plans drawn, people recruited, spring can begin again.
Conclusion – Living with the Rhythm of the Seasons
Overall, I love that my work follows the rhythm of the seasons, with intense periods and slower ones. It goes with our human nature to live in tune with the year. It’s not only a way to reconnect with nature but also to remember that we are human, we don’t function the same way all year.
It’s a way of embracing seasonal changes, instead of resisting them. Each season brings something we need. There cannot be a vibrant summer without a dark winter. Some studies even show that trees could not live without going into winter hibernation.
Perhaps this is something we can all learn from the rhythm of nature:
to slow down when it’s time to rest,
to grow when the light returns,
to trust that each phase has its purpose.
We too grow, bloom, rest, and begin again.
It’s a way of being alive.
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