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Any plant with 'stinging' in its name sounds like a menace. Stinging nettles are so damn delicious that, faced with constant threat of being eaten, they evolved little hairy hypodermic needles to deter you. I gotta give nettles some kudos. They're badasses, with a reputation for violence. They know what they want, and they don't want to be eaten. Don't let this frighten you. Their bark is worse than their bite—while yes, they prickle, they're nowhere near as bad as all the

Dandelions are so nostalgic. I have childhood memories of closing my eyes and whispering a wish before blowing a cloud of dandelion seeds spinning into the air. If I cleared the puffball in one breath, it was a sign my wish would be granted. During school recess, the flowers would be woven into crowns or gathered into a tiny posy. People consider them weeds, but why? Europeans brought dandelions intentionally to Australia in the early 1800s, not as a useless weed, but as a

Blackberry season makes me think of winding country paths, baskets overflowing with ripe berries, and fingertips stained dark lilac. But really, blackberries are usually thorny tangled messes with unpredictable berry quality. You’ll find yourself reconsidering picking them with the odd council issued warning, perhaps thumbtacked to a nearby tree: “Do not eat these berries. We poisoned them.” Only once I noticed that someone had followed through, a rare instance of unmistakab

If you’ve ever wandered near a creek and caught a whiff of onion, congratulations—you’ve met onion weed (also known as three cornered garlic, Allium triquetrum). It doesn’t hide, flaunting its dainty white flowers. Come spring, it lines creeks and rivers like a floral runner, as if setting the stage for a magical woodland ceremony; a secret runway for forest nymphs. While pretty, the onion stench excludes them from a bouquet. My parents wage constant war against the stuff in