I knew I wanted to harvest milkweed again this year, so Esme, Michelle and I head out to Hedgerow Farms in early Sept - earlier in the season than last year’s harvest. As usual, the timing wasn’t great - it was short notice and I scrambled to get the word out to folks who had expressed interest in participating - but we were subject to the whims of the farming season over which we had no control.
Esme and I arrived first and went straight to the milkweed field…but alas, the milkweed was nowhere to be found.
Me texting our friend Julia from Hedgerow to inquire, where did the milkweed go? On the left is hibiscus, on the right is where the milkweed was supposed to be.
After getting in touch with Julia and roaming around the farm, we finally spotted the tall milkweed plants from afar, in a completely separate field.
We gathered two large bags of milkweed stalks. Before heading back, I kept thinking about the hibiscus plants in the field next to the original milkweed field (which, we learned, had just been cleared out before we got there). Esme told me the hibiscus was called Hibiscus lasiocarpos var. occidentalis, of the Malvaceae family, like mallow, hibiscus, okra, hollyhock, and cotton. I learned that this hibiscus is a rare species from wetland habitats in the Delta, native to the Central Valley. Out of curiosity, we decided to gather some.
We brought the plant material back to my house, and for a couple weeks thereafter, I hosted work sessions to trim, bundle, steam, and strip the stalks. I borrowed a propane tank and large pots from Jamie Cardenas, and enlisted the help of Michelle, Esme, Elizabeth, Molly, Julia, Nana, and Winnie.
Some observations on stripping the bark: Hibiscus seemed to strip okay after soaking for several days, even without steaming - though steaming did help. The hibiscus was slimy - water used to soak the hibiscus could probably be used as a formation aid, though I didn’t try it.
The milkweed had more white sap this time, probably because we harvested earlier in the season this year. Milkweed was also more difficult to strip than last year, even after steaming. One time I forgot to soak before steaming - soaking is crucial. As an experiment, I left some milkweed stalks out to ferment for a couple weeks, and ended up stripping those stalks without steaming. It worked just fine.
After drying out the stripped bark, I weighed and stored everything. We ended up with a little over a pound (dry weight) of milkweed and 1.5 pounds of hibiscus bark.
We also gathered about a bucket of milkweed pods, which Esme offered to take home and separate the seeds from the floss. I felt pretty defeated after my first attempt at papermaking with the floss, so I didn't think much of it, but when Esme came back a few weeks later with a container filled with silky white stuff, I knew I had to try it again.
A container of dreamy white milkweed floss
Every part of this process has been a balm to my nervous system, an invitation to look closely, to slow down, yet keep moving. I am in awe and deep gratitude for this collaboration with plants and land, and for how this draws me closer to myself and others. To be continued...