The Druid's Garden

Spiritual Journeys in Tending the Land, Permaculture, Wildcrafting, and Regenerative Living

Lessons of the River: Nature Connection, Health, and Healing April 23, 2017

Sometimes, natural places call out to us, and we heed their call and journey within these wild places–often gaining profound insights along the way. For some time, I have been called to a particular creek. I would drive over a bridge as I was leaving town to visit my parents, and I watched the creek flow–its gentle water lapping at the shores, ducks swimming, stones and water babbling. I didn’t know the name of the creek, but I knew I wanted to connect with it. Then, one day after a storm last year, I saw some people kayaking on it when it was higher and a bit muddy.  Having just purchased my own kayak, I grew very excited and began asking people about the creek. Eventually, I learned where I might put my kayak in and where I might take it out, resulting in about a six mile paddling trip.

 

A beautiful and warm spring day on a clean river!

A beautiful and warm spring day on a clean river!

Truthfully, the whole journey was a bit of a leap of faith–I had talked to others who had been out on the creek sometime before, but it had been in prior years, and I knew conditions often change. I have a very good kayak that can handle just about anything and have taken some lessons and training to address emergencies, and this was known as a calm and quiet river. I packed some supplies and did a small ritual to protect the boat and off I went. This particular trip offered me several deep insights–but one I’d like to explore today is humans connecting to nature and land/river health (and I think this is a very appropriate post following up from last week exploring Connection as the Core Spiritual Philosophy in the Druid Tradition).

 

The start of my journey was absolutely incredible–the water was pure, the scenery was beautiful. I could see evidence of many people’s interaction with the creek: in a quiet forest you could see benches lining the river, I saw several fishermen was fishing for trout, I saw bikers by the river taking a short break to enjoy the water, and even at one point, I passed a lovingly built small cabin the creek. I could tell from these signs that the river was well loved and appreciated by many in the area, even in some of its more hard-to-reach and secret places.

 

Miles passed in this serene way. I enjoyed my journey immensely and it allowed me to see so much life.  As I came closer to Homer City, which was the town where I had parked my car and was traveling to my “pull out” place, I turned a bend and saw this waterfall rushing into the creek. From a distance, it looked beautiful–I was excited to get up close. But as I started to get closer, something about that waterfall appeared very, very wrong. As I arrived near it, I realized that the waterfall was full of acid mine drainage (AMD), and it had bright yellows, oranges, and metallic spots all over the rocks and was pouring extremely acidic water (probably about a PH 2.5) into that creek.  Later investigation revealed that this particular stream–quite small–is coming out of a series of abandoned mines some 3 or so miles north with no AMD remediation.

 

AMD Waterfall - note the color of water change

AMD Waterfall – note the color of water change

Where the waterfall fell into the creek, the hue of the river changed–it grew cloudy and sickly pale yellow.  The waterfall left this cloudy trail in the water, a very distinct change from before. At first, only the edge of the river where the waterfall was running in was polluted, but as I went down the last mile of the creek, soon, it all took on that color.  Truthfully, as soon as I saw the waterfall and what was happening, I didn’t want to be on that river any longer–I racked my brain to see if I had a place I could pull out of the river early and call a friend to pick me up instead of paddling back to my car. But I decided to go ahead and finish my journey because there was clearly a lesson to see in all of this.

 

In fact, not so many years ago, this entire creek had once been filled with AMD. Acid mine drainage is a very serious issue anywhere where we’ve had coal mines. The earth’s blood and bones are torn up, and in the process, she bleeds, and that pain spills into our rivers. In this area, we have thousands and thousands of abandoned coal mines.  Most of these mines were put in prior to the laws of 1970 that required that mines clean themselves up, prevent runoff into streams, and replant the land. So we have a lot of problem mines that are from pre-1970 that are continually polluting the streams (in fact, this problem can go on for 1000’s of years–some mine runoff in Europe spans back to the time of the Romans!) Around here, due to the high acid content , AMD kills all of the life in and around streams.  The stream has a characteristic orange color, with all of the stones also turned orange and the water itself orange, cloudy, and toxic. In Pennsylvania alone, we have over 3000 miles of AMD-polluted creeks.  They are so prevalent in my area that when I was child, we had so many creeks and streams like that I thought that’s just how all waterways looked.

 

A typical AMD stream with no life

A typical AMD stream with no life

What I didn’t know was that all of Two Lick Creek that I was paddling had similar problems at one time. However, local conservation efforts by several groups have made good headway in the northern part of the river. One a group called the Evergreen Conservancy has been working to clean up one site nearby–and their efforts show!  The other (where I put my kayak in) is the Waterworks Park, that offers an AMD remediation site and wetland. Without the signage indicating that AMD remediation was happening at the Waterworks Park, I would never have known that the northern part Two Lick Creek had ever had an AMD problem.  The creek banks were beautiful, the creek itself full of life and vibrant.  This speaks, among other things, to the power of humans to heal.

 

And so, I simply observed what the AMD waterfall was doing to Two Lick Creek.  The environmental effects were clear.  As I continued to float downstream, the rocks grew tainted and orange, the river grew cloudy and I could no longer see the bottom.  As the river flowed, the tainted water slowly worked its way into the creek–and entire water grew cloudy and the rocks took on an orangish hue.  It wasn’t a serious case of AMD (like my photo above, another creek that nobody interacts with).  Still, nobody was fishing here, that’s for sure.

 

However, the environmental effect wasn’t the most surprising thing on the river that day, instead it was the shift in human-nature interactions. As I floated past the AMD waterfall, I witnessed an invisible “line.”  North of the AMD waterfall, people interacted with the river. They had chairs out behind their houses by it, they had benches, they had little docks, they were out fishing and enjoying the river, and so on. However, after the AMD waterfall, people no longer wanted to be near the river, and they worked to distance themselves from it.  The difference was very striking. People put up fences and walls, dumped their garbage and burn piles near the river, and simply didn’t not go near it.  It became a neglected thing. Despite the same kinds of houses and people and access to the river upstream and downstream, after the river had AMD, it was no longer wanted or desirable. I realized that it wasn’t just that the waterfall tainted the physical water in the river–it also tainted people’s interactions with it.  Pollution literally disconnected humans from nature.

 

In other words, even a small amount of pollution turned the river from something people cared about to something people didn’t.  It turned the river into a site of enjoyment and connection with nature to something to avoid looking at or interacting with.

Upstream: clear, pure, and human connected

Upstream: clear, pure, and human connected (and you can see clear to the bottom–and avoid the rocks!)

 

AMD water...

Downstream: Cloudy, Irony, and human disconnected…(and it’s hard to see to the bottom, and thus, you hit the rocks)

I wonder how often this happens. As lands are polluted or damaged, people no longer want to interact with them.  When people stop caring, stop interacting, even more pollution is allowed to occur.  The pollution itself disconnects us from the land and the more polluted things get, the less we want to interact. Even I, as a druid and land healer, a person who has long faced these things with open eyes and an open heart, had a first reaction of wanting out of that river as soon as I saw what had happened to it.

 

You can see how we have come to the point, in this time of so much pollution and damage, to where people aren’t in nature at all. Why would you want to spend time next to (or on) a polluted river? In a logged forest? Hiking among fracking wells?  (Only crazy druid healers do such things, that that’s spiritual work, not leisure!)  If that’s the only options you have, it is no wonder so many humans are so disconnected.

 

I am left with two profound insights from this experience. First, the work of land healing has an additional dimension that I had previously not realized.  Just like in the permaculture ethical triad of earth care, people care, and fair share: we see these things all entirely linked with the others.  If we can restore nature to a state of health and allow her to thrive, we can help heal not only the land, but the human-land connections (and in doing so, the humans themselves). This allows more interaction with the land, more connection with the land, and helps us grow more “places that people care about.” To me, care and nurturing is an essential quality of helping us, as a species, return to being in a positive and mutually beneficial relationship with nature.  And so, if we heal nature, we can start to heal those connections.

 

But secondly, if we see ourselves and our work as a metaphor for a river, we can gain insights. In journeying down the river, you get to see the growth of the river over time. As each spring or stream flowed into the river, the river’s power and size grew. The creek began, at the start of my journey, about 15 feet across, and by the time I pulled my kayak out of the water 6 miles later, it was spanning 30 or 40 feet. The small “creek” had grown into a river with power, carving out rock faces as it went.  And so, I see the tributaries as people, and all of us, combined as one, could accomplish much more than a single spring or trickle. There is power in these combined currents, just as there is power in numbers of people working together. This is something that I’ve been learning firsthand since taking the first steps to establishing our intentional community here–but also something that I’ve long seen the value of in various kinds of sustainable living (like permablitzes, barn raising or community groups).

 

As much as we, collectively, are the river, we also need to look for the sources of pollution–those things or people that will cloud us and prevent us from being our true and whole selves.  Otherwise, our entire river can become tainted, just like the AMD tainted this river–and that changes everything.  Tainted waterways can be remediated, of course, and perhaps, there are more lessons in this as well.

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Seeking Sacred Springs for Inspiration and Healing February 5, 2016

Heffley Spring in June 2015

Heffley Spring in June 2015

The druid tradition–along with many others–is full of stories about sacred waters. From the Chalice Well in Glastonbury to the invocation of the “Salmon who Dwells Within The Sacred Pool,” we’ve got our water going on. Imbolc (which happened earlier this week) is often a holiday associated with flows, and many of us do workings with water and healing with water in various ways. More than this though, water has a number of key places within our conceptual frameworks in the druid tradition.  In the four element system so commonly used in earth-based traditions (that has been part of western thinking for a very, very long time), water represents our emotions, our intuition, and our connection to our spirituality. In the druid revival’s three element system, water is connected with Gywar, the principle of flow. It is Gywar that helps us move forward and to grow–it is the principle of change and fluidity. On a physical level, since our bodies so fully depend on water and water flows, and we are made up of mostly water, the water is a fundamental part of living and being. So, it is fitting for American druids to consider how sacred wells, pools, and springs may fit into our own paths. In fact, today’s post will discuss my experiences of being led to a sacred spring and the work of water upon the landscape.

 

Sacred Waters, Challenging Times

Sulphur Creek

The lifeless Sulfur Creek with Acid Mine  Drainage

While we venerate and work with the water, we also recognize the duress that our waters have been facing for centuries due industrialization and pollution. Perhaps in the United States, Pennsylvania, my beloved home state, has one of the saddest of tales.

 

Our rivers have long been poisoned by mining and industrial activities; in fact, we have nearly 3000 miles of poisoned rivers from Acid Mine Drainage due to abandoned coal mines. I went to high school on the banks of “sulfur creek”; a creek that was a sickly yellow-orange where no life was present and stunk like sulfur.  It was severely polluted about 4 miles upstream from a long-abandoned coal mine.  I completed my undergraduate degree on the banks of the Monogahela River, which was ranked the most endangered river in the USA in 2010.  This poor river is very sick–it had (and still has) this opaque sickly blue-green hue and a horrible smell. No life lives there; it has millions of pounds of toxic waste from factories dumped in it each year. Finally, where I now teach at a university in Indiana, PA, we have tremendous amounts of natural gas wells and fracking, which threatens underground aquifers and all sources of surface water–many people’s wells are polluted and in very bad shape. Needless to say, water is a real issue–and clean water, pure water, is not always easy to find.

 

Further, water has been the focus of a lot of recent discussion and scrutiny–and a challenge many humans face.  Again in the USA, we have the long-standing drought in California and Texas, the complicated “water rights” of the US West, and most recently, the poisoning of several generations of Flint, MI residents. On an international stage, melting ice shelves, warming oceans, and rising waters are a source of continual–and increasing–concern.

 

As a whole, humanity has some major challenges with water. I believe the challenges with water don’t just appear on our outer realms, but on our inner realms as well.  If we poison the very source of life–the waters–how can we not reflect that within?  And so, working with the water, healing the water on all levels, can be part of the sacred work that we do in the world.

 

While we have these challenges with waters ongoing, we also have other challenges in embracing the sacred–as many fellow American druids well know, finding and working with existing sacred sites in an American context can be extraordinarily challenging (due to the many issues outlined in my earlier post).  While trying to avoid tourists, not engage in cultural appropriation, deal with pollution or ‘development’, or find a quiet place to do rituals and venerate the land.

 

Today though, I want to share some insights on my experiences with natural springs. I want to tell a magical tale of unfolding, of discovery, and of a deeper connection with another sacred site that I discovered by accident–and the rich rewards this work has brought.

 

Finding Heffley Spring

Heffley Spring Sign

Heffley Spring Sign

I didn’t arrive in PA and intent on finding a sacred spring–but the universe has a way of unfolding and leading us on a path we are to travel.  Just after I arrived, I was on my way to visit my parents, who live about an hour from me.  There are a few different ways to get there, and I decided to try one that was a little longer, but possibly more scenic.  On my drive in, I passed something on the side of Route 56 just north of Johnstown, PA that looked like a few pipes coming out of the side of the mountain and running into a drain with a few people gathered around getting water. I didn’t have time to stop that day, but I made a mental note to return, and on my next pass through, I did just this.

 

Upon my return, the constructed rock face, a sign displayed “Heffley Spring, Rebuilt 1970.”  When I stopped this time, two people were there.  One was a middle aged woman with a fan literally full of glass jugs, who told me ,”This is the best water around.  It comes right out of the state park in the mountains. I come out here ever two weeks for my family.  I won’t have them drink anything else.” Another older man with a beat-up pickup truck was filling up smaller vessels to pour into two large cisterns on his truck.  He smiled and said, “My family has been coming to this spring for generations. I remember coming here with my grandfather, before it was rebuilt.  This is for me and my chickens.  I won’t drink that crap the city calls water with fluoride in it.”  I asked them both, “Is it safe?” thinking about the many poisoned water sources around. They both nodded emphatically, and the woman said, “I watch out for my kids. Penn state just came down and tested it a few years ago.”  The man laughed and said, “People around here have been drinking it their whole lives. There’s nothing up on that ridge except trees” as he pointed to the steep mountain ridge going up at least 2300 feet.  Just then, a long-distance biker pulled up, nodded to all of us, uncorked his water bottle, and took a swig.

 

And so, following suit, I took my glass water bottle to one of the three pipes and filled it up, then drank deeply.  The water was delicious, cold, refreshing.  But not just on a physical level, on an energetic one.  Druid revival lore speaks of the high concentration of telluric energy (the energy of the earth, the light of the earth) that flows forth from natural springs.  This water had it in abundance–I didn’t feel like it had only nourished my body, but my spirit as well.  I could sense the water rejuvenating and energizing me to my very core.  It was more than just typical water–it was healing and sacred.

 

As I sipped on the water from the spring, I took a look carefully around the site.  The rock face of the spring was in the shape of a Keystone, the symbol of Pennsylvania–a symbol of heritage and tradition for this land, but also one of deep spiritual significance. The patch of hemlock trees, nowhere else along the mountain, grew up from above the spring itself.  This, to me, was a very good sign: hemlock trees cannot tolerate water pollution and like moist areas, so seeing them reassured me that this was a safe source of water.  The cars to and fro on the highway, zipping past behind us.   It wasn’t the first idea in my mind for a sacred site with all of the hustle and bustle, but the seed was planted.

Spring overflows in June 2015

Spring overflows in June 2015

 

Over the next six months, I returned to the spring many times.  Once, I took an old friend who was visiting, and she was so delighted to stop there, sharing her memories.  She hadn’t been to the spring for nearly 30 years, and as she drank the water, she had this smile on her face that stretched from ear to ear.  Each time I visited the spring, I met a few more interesting characters–those who come to the spring for nourishment and renewal.  Once, I met a woman who was dipping her rosary in the pouring water.  She said nothing, and got back into her car quietly.  The last time I visited, to gather water for my Imbolc celebration, I met a man who had a beat-up pick-up truck with huge wheels with a wild beard and a gleam in his eye.  Given that it was only about 20 degrees out, I said to him, “I wasn’t sure if the spring was going to be still flowing, given that its winter.”  He laughed and said, “You must be new to this spring. Everyone knows it never stops flowing.  It doesn’t matter if there is a drought, a blizzard, nothing will stop it.”  I thanked him and we continued to fill up our vessels on that cold late January day.

 

I also asked my family about the spring, and my mother told us that she remembered going there and getting water as a child.  This past Christmas, my parents found an old movie projector (the kind with the reels) and old movies my grandfather had made in the 1950’s and 1960’s.  We watched the movies over a period of weeks–and there, in one of the movies, was my young grandfather and grandmother with their three children (with the fourth, my uncle, still in the belly!) getting water at that spring.  I jumped up excitedly, and my cousin, who has also recently started going to the spring, hugged me.  “Its a family tradition!”  This was particularly exciting for a group of people who had very limited traditions and passed down heritage of their own.

 

Of course, there is still much mystery surrounding this particular roadside spring.  I’m really interested in now in studying more about Heffley Spring and its history.  What did it look like before it was rebuilt in 1970?  A trip to the Johnstown library and discussion with other people at the spring when I visit are next steps for me on this journey.

 

The Spring as a Sacred Site

And so, given these experiences, I have concluded three things:

 

1) This spring is a sacred site to the local community.  I say this because that’s what many sacred sites are:  sites of value that people return to often, spend time at, and that they work to protect.  Witnessing the woman cleansing or blessing her rosary in the waters confirmed that more is going on here than meets the eye.   I’ll return to this in the next section.

 

2) This spring also is the site of a rich family tradition, being visited at least by my grandparents, but my guess is much later.  As I’ve written about before on this blog, I’ve often felt estranged both from my larger family heritage (since I’m not Christian) but also a deep sense of loss of the older family traditions that would have come from the countries of my ancestors (Ireland, Germany, etc).  I am so thrilled to find this small piece of history here.

 

3) This site is rare–so many of our waterways are poisoned.  This one has escaped it for a few key reasons including being outside of the major Marcellus shale zones (so no fracking), not being near any major coal veins (so no fracking) and having its water source within the mountain, the same mountain ridge that holds 13,000 acres of protected lands (Laurel Ridge State Park).  Because of this, it has a tremendous potential for healing in the broader landscape.

 

I believe that many such springs have these same qualities–and seeking them out is a wonderful way to reconnect not only with the sacred waters of the land, but build traditions rooted in local experience.

 

Spring still flowing in January!

Spring still flowing in January!

Sacred Springs and Healing

These experiences have taught me many things about the nature of sacred sites in the US and the importance of these springs.  And so I want to conclude with some general thoughts about the nature of sacred springs and how we seek them out and build them into our own local druid traditions.

 

The Modern Sacred Site.  Vising Heffley spring has encouraged me to expand my understanding of a sacred site. If we work with the definition of it as as a place having significance and value (although not necessarily spiritual value), in a community, then springs that people visit for water certainly fit this bill.  After finding Heffley spring, I’ve begun to seek out other sacred springs in the area. I’ve since visited two springs to conduct more observations and gain more insights.  A visit to Roaring Spring (PA) and Berkley Springs (VW) reveal more of the same patterns–in this case, entire towns are named after the springs, and both of these springs are centerpieces in the towns.  This means that the whole of human activity was once centered around these springs.  And today, of course, people visit these springs, they take the water within, and they value them.  This isn’t probably a radical observation in other parts of the world, but here in the USA where so many are so disconnected, it is profound.

 

What this means, in essence, is that not only is the water coming from these places empowered with the telluric currents, it is further empowered with the visitation, value, and respect that so many ordinary citizens hold for these springs.  In this way, they function as true “sacred sites” in ways few other places may do at present.

 

Waters of Healing and Soothing. This means that we, too, can visit these sacred springs for healing and magical work.  One of the reasons I was visiting Heffley Spring in January was because I needed water for a healing ritual that I had planned on doing at Imbolc.  I wanted to take this rich, telluric energy enriched, pure water and, after blessing it, and take a bit to our most polluted water ways in the area to help do some energetic work.  There’s regenerative work I can do physically, but my research and intuition on these waterways is that this kind of cleanup work, stretching 1000’s of miles, or the ongoing fracking issues, are certainly beyond any single human being.   All that we can do is respond in some way, in a positive way.  These sacred waters can be like a soothing balm to the more damaged waterways.  It is our prayers, our holding space, and our magic that is one of the few things that can currently help these spaces.   I would also mention that for healing work of this kind, make sure you store your water in pure glass jars or jugs–you can find these for reasonable prices at your local homebrew store (I really like the gallon jugs I got there for about $5/each!), use old wine bottles, or use a mason jar.

 

Waters of Physical Healing, Flow, and Creativity. The other side of this is the personal healing and inspiration you can get from these .  Drinking water often from such sources of telluric light can facilitate healing and transformation within.  For one, I have found that in drinking water from the spring, I feel more energized, awake, and alive.  Its hard to explain using words–but my body literally feels scrubbed clean and fully awake, alive, and healed (its not that dissimilar from when I drink a good reishi or chaga tea).  For two, I have found that the water from these springs facilitates the flow of creativity in my own life–such as the writing of this post, which is flowing out of me on Imbolc itself, as I sit and drink deeply from the waters of this spring while I compose these words.  A glass of water from this spring in the morning along with my other daily ritual practices is an incredible start to my day! The water from these springs is truly a gift to be cherished and valued.

 

Gushing water from the Spring in June!

Gushing water from the Spring in June!

Seeking the Springs

I would encourage you to seek out sacred springs in your own region or in places that you visit.  The best place to start is in two directions: first, ask older relatives and friends if there are any springs nearby that people would visit (or even drive to visit).

 

Second, look at the map.  Places like “Indian springs” tells you something of the history of that place–my guess is that at one point, some “indians” had a spring there or other source of water.  This alone has helped me find many potential sites for such springs.  You might find that some springs only flow in the “spring time” (not a coincidence) when the waters are flowing, but other springs, like Heffley, might flow year round.  You may also find that there used to be a spring there, but its no longer maintained–but its still worth finding! I hope others consider finding such springs a worthy endeavor–I’d love to hear your experiences and stories!

 

 

 

Making Hydrosols (floral waters) Without an Alembic November 15, 2013

What is a hydrosol? A hydrosol, also known as a floral water, distillate, or hydroflorate, is water that has been imbued with the essence of the plant through a distillation process.  They are similar to essential oils (in that they carry the same plant properties), but are far less potent, and can be made at home with simple materials.

 

Why a magical hydrosol?  I use sacred waters as part of my daily magical practice, and I decided I wanted to use herbs in conjunction with those waters. I was also looking for a different way to enjoy herbs and their magical and healing qualities.  I had purchased some hydrosols (floral waters) from an herbal company, and I loved them, but I wanted to make my own so that I could magically craft them on appropriate days/times and keep my practice locally-based and more sustainable.   (I talked about some of this magical crafting in my post on Hawthorn Tincture recently).

 

What you’ll need:

1. You will need fresh plant material (I have not tried it with dried, and I suspect it would turn out differently with dried plants and have different qualities).  Even though we’ve had some serious frosts already, my mints and lemon balms are still going strong, so I decided to work with those two plants.

Fresh mint

Fresh mint

2.  You will need a glass, copper, or enamel pot (not any kind of other metal).  The pot should have a lid that seals well and that is domed somehow.

3.  You will need three small stones.

4.  You will need a small glass bowl that fits within the pot.

5.  Filtered or distilled water.

6.  A small bag of ice, enough to cover most of the lid of your pot.

For my example hydrosol (peppermint), I am using rocks I found in my driveway (and scrubbed well), a bowl I purchased for $1.00 at the thrift store, and an enamel pot I purchased for $2 at the thrift store.  Sure beats a $500 alembic (which is a traditional distilling piece of equipment).

Equipment

Equipment

 

The Process

The process is so simple, and depending on how much water you want, takes about 1-2 hours.

1.  Clean your equipment really well.  This is because you want NOTHING in the pot or bowl that isn’t your floral water.

2.  Place your bowl inside your pot on the three small stones (this makes a double-boiler).

Double boiler

Double boiler

3.  Wash and chop up your herbs.

4.  Add the herbs to the pot, and add enough filtered/distilled water to cover the herbs (you don’t want it going up too high on the bowl).

Ready to simmer!

Ready to simmer!

5.  Place the lid on your pot upside down and slowly bring your herbs to simmer on the stove–not too rapid of a boil.  The lid is placed upside down so that as the water evaporates, it will condense and drip into the smaller bowl.

6. Once it is simmering, place a bag of ice on top of your lid.

Ice on the lid

Ice on the lid

7.  The domed lid will allow the floral water to drip right into the bowl.  The ice will encourage the steam to condense back to water quicker.  You may find that you need to add more ice as the process goes on.

Process in action!

Process in action!

8.  Check it ever so often and when you have enough water, let it cool then place into a jar.  It should stay good for 6-8 months, if its like the commercial hydrosol (I will report back in 6-8 months on this!)

Final hydrosols

Final hydrosols

Other ideas and thoughts.  I suspect that you can do this with just about anything from which you can derive an oil.  I was thinking about trying it with organic berries and fruits from the store to experiment, since all of my fresh produce is done for the year (with cabbage, kale, spinach, lettuce, and leeks being exceptions, none of which I really want as a floral water).  If anyone else tries this or does experiments with other kinds of materials, please let me know how it works!