Sage Smudging: Science or Silly?

We did not host guests this Thanksgiving, so there was no roast turkey at the Snoddy place, hence no need for harvesting sage to flavor the traditional dressing (or stuffing) accompaniment.

Today, a quick peek into my herb garden revealed a beautiful sage plant. Its good condition was a surprise, since I plunked it into a corner of a raised bed in spring and promptly forgot it.

My past use of culinary sage has been limited to the Thanksgiving meal. It was planted as a deterrent to marauding deer and rabbits. I decided to search the internet for other uses. What an eye opener! I was unfamiliar with “sage smudging,” and what I learned was fascinating. Smudging, simply put, is the burning of plant material to produce smoke and aroma.

Burning sage was practiced by Native Americans (and perhaps Ancient Greeks, Egyptians, and Romans). The intent (varies by source) was either a spiritual ritual, a purification practice, a healing rite, an attempt to rid spaces of insects, or to “dispense negative energy.”

There are two main types of sage used in smudging, White Sage (Artemesia) or Culinary Sage (Salvia officinalis). Other plants used for smudging include cedar, rosemary, and lavender. The internet has several prayers or incantations for use as part of smudging rituals. Some sites had very specific instructions. According to one, “Use a match to light it at the bottom. You never want to blow on it, because that is blowing your spirit away.” Other sites discourage smudging by non-Native Americans, labeling the practice as cultural appropriation. One source gave instructions on the inclusion of sage smudging as a part of marriage ceremonies.

So, is there any proven science behind smudging? More than 30% of Americans use medicines or practices that fall outside standard pharmacological standards. WebMd.com was non-committal: “While sage burning might offer a kind of metaphysical or spiritual cleansing, its medical virtues haven't been well-studied. Very little research has been done on burning sage in general, and there isn't much evidence to confirm what it might do for your health.”

While the activity is not widespread, there are YouTube videos on how to smudge properly. And any time you can purchase Sage Smudge Sticks on Amazon, it is safe to assume that is moving from esoteric to known.

Here is a piece of wisdom. Let the curious beware. After my research into the practice of smudging, I got plenty of popups on other sites and advertisements related to holistic healing, acupuncture, mysticism, even a few links which appeared to have some connection to witches.

Culinary Sage or Common Sage, Salvia officinalis, is a woody sub-shrub native to the Mediterranean. It has soft gray, narrow leaves that resemble a greener version of Lambs Ears. ‘Berggarten’ is a cultivar with wider leaves. Bees and butterflies love sage’s spikes of tiny lavender, blue, or pinkish flowers. Plants are grown from seeds, cuttings, or division. They are perennial in zones 4-8. Grow sage in full sun and well-draining soil. Plants are deer and rabbit resistant.

This happy sage plant is hanging out with neighboring oregano and cattnip.

Wagon-Wheel Herb Garden

The winter solstice this week marks the longest night of the year. Beginning December 22, daylight hours lengthen by a few minutes each day until the summer solstice in June marks the longest day. Like many of you, I am spending cold winter days indoors, perusing seed catalogs and waiting impatiently for the time to arrive when I can start tomatoes and peppers from seeds. It is difficult to resist my heated greenhouse’s alluring call to action.

It is too early to start most vegetables and summer annuals, but it is an ideal time to plan an herb garden. Two of my favorites, parsley and chives, take a long time to germinate and grow to decent size, so I can satisfy my seed-starting urges with these.

Parsley is finicky. Always start with fresh seed because they lose viability faster than most other seeds. I attain excellent germination by placing seeds in a waterproof container and pouring boiling water over them. I allow seeds to soak overnight before using tweezers to place them atop seed-starting medium, which is finer texture than potting soil. Use 4-6 seeds in each four-inch container. I featured curly parsley as a flower bed edging one year. It was very pretty – until hungry caterpillars moved in and annihilated it almost overnight. (It’s best to remind oneself that the caterpillars of today are the butterflies of tomorrow.) I prefer flat-leaf parsley for kitchen use.

One of my favorite designs for an herb garden is a wagon wheel. Metal lasts longer than wood, of course, but wooden wheels meant for decorative use are readily available and not expensive so you won’t mind replacing them when they rot. For the one pictured below, I removed half the spokes to make larger planting windows.

Labeling your herbs is not essential (you know what you planted) but is an attractive enhancement. Many plant markers are decorative as well as functional. My favorite ceramic markers lend humor to the garden: “Peakus Lastweekus,” “Plantum WhydIbuyem,” and “Twigga Mortis.” For the herb garden, I use small terra cotta saucers and a permanent black marker. (May God richly bless whomever developed the Sharpie Extreme, UV-resistant felt pen.) The coarse texture of terra cotta combines well with the unrefined exuberance of herb plants. Fill any gaps in the wheel with pansies or marigolds.

Small-stature herbs for the wagon wheel design: parsley, oregano, chives, garlic, dill, lemon balm, culinary sage, basil. Rosemary is my favorite herb for cooking and fragrance, but it grows large so should be planted where it has room to flourish. Innocent-looking mints are best confined to containers because they spread aggressively.

A lush herb garden, ready for harvest.

The initial planting of the herb wheel, in March.

Maybe Shakespeare had it right after all?

“There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance…”  Was Shakespeare’s Hamlet onto something? The answer is yes if you believe a study released by Dr Jemma McCready and Dr Mark Moss from the University of Northumbria, England, in 2013. And the National Institute of Health released a highly technical abstract in 2016 that lends some credence to the theory, but stops short of supporting the idea that Rosemary (Rosmarinus officinalis) will help those suffering from dementia or Alzheimer’s disease.  For every study released that endorses herbs or specific plants for disease treatment, there seems to be a counter study that says otherwise. I’m taking no chances. I plan to breathe in the scent of my potted rosemary every chance I have. Couldn’t hurt, right?

The rosemary pictured below is in a pottery container that is a creation of my sister, Linda, the artist in our family. My plant will remain indoors, but the herb is perennial outdoors in Zone 7-10. It will grow to the size of a shrub and have pale blue blooms that bees love. When sunshine falls on the foliage, it releases a delicious fragrance. Some describe the scent as pine-like, but it really has a distinctive resinous odor all its own. I love the flavor of rosemary leaves in tomato-based sauces or sprinkled on toasted ciabatta. Older leaves tend to be a little prickly, so use the young, tender growth in cooking.

Even though the bees love it, deer and insects leave rosemary alone. Anecdotal evidence says that planting it under roses will help keep aphids away. It likes heat, full sun and limited but regular water. It’s not an easy plant to start from seed, so either buy them at the nursery or start them from cuttings. Both upright and trailing forms are available.

I find that rosemary will be attractive for a few years before it gets woody and the center of the plant opens up. You can delay the demise by frequent, light pruning, but when it becomes ugly, just replace the plant. You can strip the leaves from the reject plant and include them in sachet bags in your closet.