Inside an enchanting herban apothecary in Portland

as we round the midpoint between autumn equinox & winter solstice,
the leaves blaze lighting up the darkening sky
before they dance towards the earth.
the moon waxes full as we bask in the light of the beaver moon, a supermoon.
soak in the luminous glow & energies.

times continue to be be unprecedentedly wild
as the cold sets in. this season of release as the light fades
& the leaves fall leaving a bare lacework of branches.
this liminal season, a threshold.

i am reaching out with an offer of winter comfort.
bolstering against both the winter chill & the heartache from the news cycle.

remember always to lean in to the plant allies and the potency of community.

- Polly Hatfield, herban enclave November newsletter

Every CSA (community supported agriculture) venture is unique, but Polly Hatfield’s home-based, herban apothecary in the heart of Portland, Oregon is SO special. You can think of it as community-supported alchemy as well – read on, and you’ll see what I mean.

I was thrilled to have the chance to meet Polly and her teeming gardens, front yard and back, when I was in Portland at summer’s end.

I’d been on Polly’s mailing list for a few years, delighting in her poetic, strikingly visual seasonal newsletter, and occasionally sampling her offerings or sending them as gifts. Every year when I enroll in artist Suzi Banks Baum’s Advent Dark Journal workshop, a packet of Polly’s homemade bath salts is tucked into the envelope of art supplies Suzi sends us. (You’ll meet Suzi and Advent Dark Journal in a future post.)

Portland neighborhoods can be one delight after another: poetry boxes, little free libraries, sidewalk chalk drawings galore, pocket gardens, and other inventive gifts to be shared with the community. But herban enclave stands out. The moment I turned down Polly’s street, I guessed which home was the one I was looking for. Clearly, this was a neighborhood of gardeners, but one lot in particular burst at the seams with late-summer plantings.

No space there is wasted, and I marveled at how Polly and her partner managed to grow and lovingly handcraft so many offerings on this modestly sized patch of land.

For example, in November, herban enclave’s winter csa care package (available to order until November 21) includes:

• syrup made from aronia berry, rose, and holy basil
• nasturtium flower finishing salt (with sichuan peppercorns, smoked salt, and rose)
• a “winter quiet” tincture of milky oats, ashwaganda root, rose, and wood betony
• a replenishing tea of nettles, raspberry leaf, oatstraw, and other plant allies
• a soaking salts blend of eucalyptus, lemon, ginger, ashwaganda elixir, and wild rose flower essence
• A “breathe deeply” oxymel of nasturtium, anise hyssop, holy basil, and aronia berry

(Photos by Polly Hatfield)

Polly’s conjurings have me heading for the dictionary or to my plant and flower identification app because, quite often, I’ve never even heard of the plants and flowers she cultivates that become her ingredients.

In addition to a seasonal care package, Polly usually has small batch offerings on hand. These enticements and several others are currently available until November 21:

• nocino (an Italian liquor made from immature green walnuts)
• a variety of tinctures, topical balms, and salves
• an herbal gomasio (look it up!) of jimmy nardello peppers, smoked salt, black sesame seed, and rose
• a douglas fir elixir

The September afternoon when Polly and I visited, the weather was gorgeous. We sat outside in the sun and I soaked up Polly’s earth-based knowledge as she told me the story of how she and her beloved found their ideal home, planted the extensive gardens, and established such a unique CSA.

Before our meeting, I’d asked Polly if a particular book had been her “bible,” one that had contributed to a vision for her work and way of living. “Gardening at the Dragon’s Gate,” she’d said, and I ordered a used copy.

As I write this, I’m two-thirds of the way through Wendy Johnson’s classic book about gardening and Zen Buddhism (published in 2008), still wondering how I got to be my age without encountering this extraordinary title. I’m a middling, on-again, off-again gardener with grander ideas than I know how to execute. I’m an insight meditation student and teacher as well (and I admire the Zen school of thought, too.) So Gardening at the Dragon’s Gate speaks to me on many levels. Turn to any page and you’re likely to find a nugget of wisdom. You’ll never plumb all of its depths.

In Buddhist texts, consciousness is said to be a field, a piece of earth on which every kind of seed is planted. On this field of consciousness are sown the seeds of hope and suffering, the kernel of happiness and sorrow, anger and joy. The quality of our life depends entirely on which seeds we garden and nourish in our consciousness.

Growing a garden, like cultivating the wide field of consciousness, is original work. Each time we plant a garden we are returning to origin, to the source of every garden ever grown. The word “origin” derives from the Latin verb oriri, to rise, as the sun and moon rise in a cyclical pattern in the day and night sky. Originality has a still older meaning described by the upwelling of deep springwater through stony ground. Growing a garden depends on this double force of originality that is both rhythmic and permeating. – Wendy Johnson, Gardening at the Dragon’s Gate

I’ve learned as a meditator that we can deliberately and lovingly set an intention for our days. We can do the work of our intentions in a way that gives meaning and shape to our lives. I think that master gardener/herbalist Polly Hatfield and her partner are doing this every day at herban enclave. I love how the work of gardening and a way of life inevitably become woven together.

I think about other home gardens we enjoy seeing in another part of Portland when we visit extended family. They have a gorgeous new garden, and another more vintage garden that is a vital part of the Montessori school they founded, where very young folks spend lots of time playing, learning, and enjoying nature’s riches.

As I write this post at my desk, the wind is kicking up, I hear the patter of raindrops, and I’ll need to close my studio window soon. After a balmy Indian summer, the temperature here in North Carolina is expected to drop twenty degrees. We’re entering the cold, dark time, when Polly’s makings (even simply reading about them) can give us warmth and comfort.

And with that, I will let Miss Polly have the honor of signing off:

may you allow yourself to rest.
to sink into a season of dormancy.
& to tend your heart well.

with love & full moon blessings galore,
heal // whole // holy
warmly & always with love, polly

Here is a link to Polly’s newsletter, with ordering information (order by Nov. 21, 2025).

https://mailchi.mp/b57eef719645/rose-magic-summer-spell-solstice-love-12930906?e=b8a80062f5

You can find Polly Hatfield on Instagram, and sign up for her seasonal newsletter on her linktree site:

https://www.instagram.com/achilleaswooning/

linktr.ee/Miss_Polly