There are many ways to work with plants, and the more you explore plants through a wide lens, the more each plant becomes kindred. When I first started farming in 2012, pragmatic me was only interested in growing plants for food; everything else, including flowers, felt frivolous. With each passing season, though, I began to see the wonder that plants have to offer in the form of craft supplies, medicine, personal care, and beyond. Adorning our home with golden and red leaves in the fall, bringing flowers in throughout the summer, boughs of evergreen in the winter: plants have a way of bringing warmth and wonder to our spaces and our lives beyond what feeds our bellies. And of course, there are many ways in which the seeds we sow contribute to the vibrancy of our ecosystems, providing food for the great web of life.
As I expanded my perspective of growing plants beyond food, I began exploring different ways to work with the plants in our garden and wild spaces around us. I began infusing oils with plants like comfrey and calendula to blend into salves, drying aromatic tulsi basil for tea and finding new ways to work with plants familiar and not.
I first discovered the beauty of hydrosols about five years ago when I stopped using conventional shampoo and conditioner and opted for a plant-based hair care routine. It was the height of the pandemic, and my inner desire to "do it myself" was kicked into high gear. As I transitioned away from the store-bought hair care products I was used to, I looked to plants to tend to my scalp and hair. I bought a bottle of rosemary hydrosol from our local natural foods store and started to incorporate it into my daily routine, spritzing my scalp between washes and when I needed a boost.

Hydrosols are gentle and aromatic waters created through steam or hydro-distilling plant material, the same process that yields essential oils. While essential oils are highly aromatic and can be too harsh for direct contact with skin, hydrosols are gentle and can be used for skin toning, hydration, and aromatherapy.
After incorporating hydrosols into our self-care routines, we invested in our own still from Copper Pro in 2022 so we could start exploring the art of distillation with the plants from our own gardens. The alchemy of distillation is truly facinating to me. Not all plants are suitable for distillation: some aromas are lost to the heat, others, like mint, are not acidic enough to last very long after distillation. Exploring our garden with an open mind and a touch of curiosity has yielded many trials and a few magical outcomes (which it is a delight to share with you!).

Our rose hydrosol has taken years to perfect and holds a dear place in my heart. It is the first hydrosol we distill in the spring, harvesting the lush blossoms each morning in June when they're still covered in dew and before the sun has touched them. The rose bushes are likely a damask rose decendent, though the actual variety has been lost to time. They came from my grandparent's farm in Wisconsin, where I can remember my grandma tending to them alongside the house, amongst many other flowers she planted and loved. Their farm is surely where my love of growing food and enjoying the abundance of the seasons first started; I think of them with every flower I harvest and know that my grandma is with me as I coax the sweet and tangy fragrance from their blooms.

Since then, our whole family has found joy in hydrosols. A refreshing body spritz of lemongrass after working in the garden, a soothing mist of rose water at the end of the day — these little rituals weave the beauty of our gardens into daily life. Our daughter keeps lavender hydrosol chilled in the fridge for an extra cooling treat, and our son loves the scent of peach leaves and bark distilling on the stove, filling the kitchen with the aroma of almond cake.
One of the lessons I love most from working with plants throughout the years is that nothing is ever wasted. So long as we harvest responsibly, everything eventually returns to the earth. Learning this lifted the guilt I once felt when I harvested something and didn’t use it as planned and allowed me to explore more freely with the abundance from our own gardens. Exploring plants with care and curiosity deepens our connection to the living world — and as those relationships grow, so does our commitment to tending the land with love.
As I’ve replaced the sterile, storebought products with herbal goods and hydrosols from our gardens and other talented herbalists, my daily routines have grown richer and more meaningful. My curiosity that led me to growing food so many years ago has grown into a lifelong relationship with plants and soil built on curiosity and reverence.
Working with plants has taught me that beauty and nourishment are never separate. Every leaf, blossom, and seed offers a chance to slow down, listen, and reconnect with the living world. Whether through the garden, the kitchen, or the still, I find myself returning again and again to the same truth: the more I tend to the plants, the more they tend to me.


