(Achillea millefolium)

Last week, instead of striding out in my break, trying to get my 15,000 steps in. I decided to do something different. I took myself off with my flask of West county Licorice tea. I found a sheltered spot on the west coast near the Old Light. I simply… sat. A small quarried hollow in the granite gave me the perfect seat. Note to self: this will be an unbeatable place to watch the sunset.

As I sat, I smelled a sweet and herbal aroma. It drifted on the breeze. Of course, it was the yarrow. This was the first time this season I’d noticed it beginning to carpet the island.

Sensory Yarrow

Yarrow is a fantastic plant to alert your senses. Touching its feathery leaves makes the scent deepens — woody, with a hint of sandalwood? Maybe a smell of eucalyptus reminiscent of the forests that I have driven through in Portugal.

I slipped off my shoes so I feel it beneath my feet: springy, soft, alive.

History of Yarrow

Yarrow has a long history — healer, protector, plant of myth. In ancient times, it was used for its medicinal properties. It was brewed into teas. It was also carried in rituals to guard against unwelcome spirits. In Greek mythology, it’s linked to Achilles, a symbol of bravery and protection.

I was sitting there with tea in hand. The air was full of fragrance. The only noise came from the Ocean below and the birds on the wind. Plus all of this on a working day, not bad hey!

Where to Find Yarrow on Lundy Island

Yarrow grows everywhere on Lundy. Places you can easily find it are Lower Aero-Generator field. South West Point between the Castle and Benjamin’s Chair. However my favourite place is between just beyond 1/4 wall between Parrot Rock and Earthquake. This is a place where you are less likely to be interrupted by visitors. You can just lie on the grass and take in the smell. You can also listen to the seabirds.

Last year, I gathered yarrow to dye fleece from Lundy’s sheep. This was my way of creating wool that truly embodied the island. The colours it produced was far brighter than the sheep’s natural shade, a transformation gifted by the land itself.

If you’d like to read more moments like this, you will like to sign up to my blog. These are stories of walking and connecting with Lundy’s landscape.