Foraging for Plants, Music, & Family

We toted the guitar out in the summer heat, after our beach vacation, while we picked blackberries. Silvia’s dress snagged on the thorns. I was writing about a heartache that constantly pulses reminders because of the realization that there’s no way to make up for a past that’s never coming back. I felt the pull of my characters, especially Robin, her confusion over both memory loss and memory resurfacIng, her dreams to rise above her family’s addictions, and the fire in her heart and her pen to write folk songs.

Image Title: Snagged Pickin’. Photos by Zoe Morris and Shana Thornton. Final image by Shana Thornton.

Foraging for plants and folklore, folk music, and family secrets are themes in the Family Medicine Wheel series, and they especially show up in my next book, Ripe for the Pickin’ (Forthcoming March 2022). In the first book, Poke Sallet Queen and the Family Medicine Wheel (2015), young Robin learns to forage for plants from her dad and other relatives. She also meets the friends who become her bandmates. In the next book, Ripe for the Pickin’, Robin shares more about foraging when she was growing up, and she begins her songwriting partnerships. Robin also makes a remarkable discovery in this book and that allows her to learn about her ancestors.

For the past seven years, I’ve been actively researching plants for the book, Ripe for the Pickin’. The research is a big part of my life, and my family usually participates. While we were out picking plants one afternoon, I asked our younger daughter, Silvia, if we could take photos for the book. I wanted them for inspiration. I also asked our older daughter, Zoe, if she would take some of the photos, too. These images are some of the photos we took, and they have been layered, and some even look quilted together.

Title: Pickin’ Tea. Photos by Zoe Morris. Final image by Shana Thornton

Eerily similar to the best ideas in the book is the life that I live:

“Is this the peppery chickweed?” Silvia asks me. A fluffy type grows by the river and has a stronger flavor than the more straggly plants nearer to our house.

She and I pick wild violets for tea every spring. This became the inspiration for a chapter of the book called “Backyard Spring,” and then it inspired a song. I crafted one like Robin might for her band, and I added it to the book. Writing songs was fun, and so different from narrative that I wanted to do it again. I tried. Ohhhhhhhh, I like Robin Ballard and her songwriting journals. I helped her to fill them up.

Silvia eats wood sorrel year round where it stays warm and green close to the house. This became the inspiration for a chapter called “Cowbird Blues” and another song.

We pick the creeping charlie leaves that grow under blackberry canes, and then we pick blackberry leaves for tea, too. And, you might have guessed already…another chapter called “Blackberry Winter Whistlin’ Tune” and another song…

This got us on a songwriting streak. And, I’m in love with it…


I was daydreaming one afternoon while placing images together. I don’t know what compelled me to choose the images or arrange them, but I liked the final result when I stopped my creative daydreaming. This final image contains four photographs with three of them placed on an image of the interior of the Frist Art Museum.

Image Title: Plant Music Pickin’ Compilation. Photos by Shana Thornton, Zoe Morris, and Terry Morris.
Final image by Shana Thornton

I enjoy the creativity that the books inspire in my family’s everyday life. We have a cabinet full of tea, a drying rack overflowing with leaves and flowers, and an experimental garden of wild plants, heirlooms, and seeds given to me by family and friends. We water the plants. We drink the tea. We sing.

Right now, as I finish this blog, someone is playing the piano and trying to write a song in the living room, probably Terry. I can hear Silvia singing from upstairs, her voice drifting off while she makes up words and when she finds them, it rises again. From the kitchen, I can hear the water boiling in the kettle for someone’s tea, probably Zoe’s.

Read more about the books here.

Yoga Trails among the Trees

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Yoga grabs at me in mid run. I cut across a field, kick off my shoes, and stand in eagle pose for as long as I want. At first, I teeter when trying to focus on a leaf in the river. I blame the river for flowing. For moving. How can I become still in a posture if I can’t focus on an inert wall in a house or yoga studio? I focus on the tree, and the leaves rustle, so I topple over.
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Everything is moving, trembling under the surface, even if it holds a stagnant appearance. Tiny vibrations and changes are happening all the time. I plant my foot in the soil and feel the slight tremble. I don’t tell my foot to be still. I work with my body’s subtle, natural movements. My toes anchor to the soil, and I slightly, oh so slightly, waver constantly in the pose and breathe and forget I am moving and the river is flowing and the trees shake. I realize that there’s no way to stop the motion that’s constantly inside of living things, myself included. Sitting still most certainly feels bad to many people. Cells rattle.

I notice the turkey tracks in the dirt around me. The deer imprints her motion in the mud. She brings her babies, and I see the hoof prints all around me as I sun salutation and balance in half moon pose. I look up–the tree is growing and changing all the time, shifting, adjusting to the sun and soil and water. We only think the trees are still, but they aren’t. Life is moving in them, through them, not just around them, all the time.

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I began a new practice with old habits in order to free myself. Trail running has been part of my routine for almost seven years. Yoga has been in my life, on the side, since I was in eighth grade. I would pick it up enough to learn a little more each time and then toss it aside without complete devotion. I didn’t stick it out, but it has never gone away, and I know more than the basics to the practice and way of life. Until last year, there were days when my practice was only a sun salutation. Most days, I tried crow until I popped my nose on the floor. I learned new ways to stand in tree pose. I became brave with a headstand and handstands against a wall.

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Yoga and trail running give me glimpses of nature I would otherwise miss. Both of them allow me to enjoy movement and change. Not sticking with a specific program but truly flowing through my daily life offers the most creative freedom.

"Grown-ups never understand anything for themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things to them." --Antoine de Saint-Exupery, from The Little Prince

“Grown-ups never understand anything for themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things to them.” –Antoine de Saint-Exupery, from The Little Prince

Going into the forest, into nature, has been fun for my family, especially my children. I learn more about stretching, meditating, breathing, laughing, and being from the children, when I follow along with their natural play, which includes all of those things. They choose their own places in the forest that seem even more enchanted once we finish. We look for shapes in the trees, the shadows, the filtering sunlight, the riverbank, and we try to imitate those forms with our yoga poses. My husband takes our photos on the trails he clears. Sometimes, the results are beautiful.

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Other times, we simply have fun and fall over and laugh and enjoy being together.

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Our changes opened a new way–like the trails we have been blazing this summer.

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Some days, I see the turkey stretch and know it’s time for me to bend and flex. In the afternoons, the young deer race one another out of the trail heads and sprint across the fields. We share.

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I go out every day to imprint the paths and pack down the new ones. At first, my line was soft and barely noticeable, but my daily devotion to the trails and my practice reveals the deep meaning of my intention. One step at a time. Back in the spring, my oldest daughter took the first steps by planting some seeds about a young adult book centered on nature and yoga. I’ll be sharing more details with you soon about the new projects evolving out of our new practice.

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In my observations, the turkey have taught me a lot about yoga, too:

"Why they always make serious face in yoga? You make serious face like this, you scare away good energy. To meditate, only you must smile. Smile with face, smile with mind, and good energy will come to you and clean away dirty energy. Even smile in your liver. Practice tonight in hotel. Not to hurry, not to try too hard. Too serious, you make you sick. You can calling the good energy with a smile." --Ketut Liyer, Balinese healer from Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. Smiling when I practice close to the wild turkeys in my backyard--they stretch & sun salutation too.

“Why they always make serious face in yoga? You make serious face like this, you scare away good energy. To meditate, only you must smile. Smile with face, smile with mind, and good energy will come to you and clean away dirty energy. Even smile in your liver. Practice tonight in hotel. Not to hurry, not to try too hard. Too serious, you make you sick. You can calling the good energy with a smile.” –Ketut Liyer, Balinese healer from Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. Smiling when I practice close to the wild turkeys in my backyard–they stretch & sun salutation too.

Reverse warrior

Reverse warrior