Surprise!

This my friends, while it may not look like much to you, is a bonanza, an absolute bonanza I tell you! Pie-in-the-sky, gift from the Goddess, is-this-my-lucky-day-or-what!!

This I found growing, in several stands, at my new house! At first, I couldn’t believe it – it doesn’t, that I know of, grow wild and who would have planted it. Well, I used to plant it. I think it’s beautiful – and so so useful! Some other resident here must also have agreed! Most folks think it has few visual charms. Can it be that someone else, someone who once lived here before me, found value in my miracle plant? Maybe she used it for medicines too? Ahhh, there it is, that connection, that connection to Mama, and Grandma, Aunt Eller and the rest of a long line of women who took care of the sick and injured, knew just where to find what plant for a variety of ailments. Yet, as much as I wish to step off into that topic, I will happily confine myself to a discussion of my wild garden's gift......

Its name, which sounds quite regal to me is, comfrey. From Wikipedia, “Comfrey (Symphytum officinale L.) is a perennial herb of the family Boraginaceae with a black, turnip-like root and large, hairy broad leaves that bears small bell-shaped white, cream, purple or pink flowers. It is native to Europe, growing in damp, grassy places, and is widespread throughout the British Isles on river banks and ditches. Comfrey has long been recognized by both organic gardeners and herbalists for its great usefulness and versatility;…” This explains why, after not having seen a proper stand of comfrey for more than five years, doubting seriously that anyone but me would have planted it, and sure it would not be growing wild; I was uncertain that I might be looking at Borage. But now, after some extra caution, I have ascertained that this is, in fact, my much loved comfrey.

Comfrey, if nothing else, makes a pleasant tea. Though it tastes well enough, it should not be consumed in great quantities given some nasty little rumor started by the FDA that comfrey is a carcinogen (caused by the symphytine). Then, there’s that other rumor about liver toxicity. I actually do sometimes pay attention to such rumors and so, I don’t any longer serve pitchers of iced comfrey, but I do not hesitate to make a nice pot of comfrey tea now and again (toss in some peppermint, chamomile and ahhhhhhhh!). I do this with slightly less frequency than I might have a shot of Jameson’s – tis relaxing, tasty and nasty rumors are not so compelling as to avoid these charms altogether. But, nasty rumors do encourage caution and thus, we do not gulp down copious quantities of iced comfrey any more than we might any other beverage other than water.

But! were I to discover that I have ulcers? Pass the comfrey, please! I’d be right there, washing down daily cups of comfrey tea, iced, or hot. Comfrey makes a nice tonic for a sore throat too. But comfrey’s most prized gift to us comes in healing wounds and even breaks. Comfrey’s traditional name, “knitbone” attests to his healing powers. There is rumored to have been a slow motion film demonstrating comfrey’s miraculous powers to regenerate wounded flesh. In the film, a serving or so of steak has been cut and both pieces set lain in comfrey tea. Miraculously, the cut steak grows knits very nearly back into one, whole piece. Getting onward of years as I am (you’re supposed to laugh and disagree), I cannot now say whether I have seen this film, or have only heard of it and dreamt the rest – for I cannot locate a properly documented source of such film now. Nonetheless, I absolutely believe that these are true healing properties of comfrey. Comfrey contains allantoin, which speeds up cell reproduction. Susun Weed (who I want to be when I grow up) speaks of comfrey’s great powers, along with Juliette de Barclay Levy and of course, the famous Culpepper.

Someday should we meet; I will show you just the tiniest of scars on my ring finger. When we’re really good friends, I shall tell you how this scar came to be beneath my wedding ring but for now, I’ll tell you that it was once a great, long and deep gash and that it should not have healed so nicely, especially since I did actually attempt to stitch it closed myself. Having stitched crooked stitches, I was forced to ask for help (you should have seen the mess I made!). My friend and I soaked my now misshapen finger, (wince, fast!) sort of slid the crooked tissue over and into place, butterflied me up and then soaked me in comfrey tea. You can hardly see the scar now; just enough so that I know it’s there.

Comfrey is great in your compost heap, does wonders laid atop potato trenches/mounds and makes a really nice garden mulch. Also, unlike other plants, comfrey tolerates fresh urine. Okay, that sounds gross to you but…do you have a place where birds, cats or other animals always seem to “go?” Plant a stand of comfrey there!

I make a wonderful salve from comfrey and plantain– I’ll share the recipe sometime; but there are many available on the internet. I add calendula when I have it. Okay! I promised myself just a short entry about the regal comfrey – not a soapbox about self-reliance and herbal healing. Maybe another time for that.


Comfrey is miraculous. Aunt Eller never taught me about comfrey – she taught me horehound, slippery elm, squaw vine, coltsfoot and many others, and I for sure am grateful. But she never showed me comfrey – perhaps because it doesn’t grow wild in the Eastern states. Yet, comfrey is the one herb I would not be without, the one, single herb that I could choose if I could only have one. And here it is! It is growing without aid at my new house. I couldn’t feel luckier!