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My Foraging Journey + a Beginner’s Checklist

Updated: May 20


A hand holds a basket with green leaves and bark on a forest path. Surrounding greenery and small white flowers create a natural setting.
Foraged greens and seeds (and also some bark for my garden)

Ten years ago, I had never foraged for wild plants. I was stuck at a desk all day, my body aching from inactivity.


I’d always loved walking and spotting wildflowers. I even dreamt of picking them for my wedding morning (which I did—see my blog on that!). But beyond admiring them, I hadn’t given wild plants much thought.


Searching for Something More


In my 20s, I was often preoccupied with what I wore. I spent far too long curating the perfect wardrobe, chasing that rush you get when you buy something new you think will “complete” everything. But the dopamine hit never lasted.


So I threw myself into hobbies instead—skincare (which felt just as shallow in the end), knitting, sewing, gardening, travel blogging. I got into them all obsessively, but none of them really stuck.


Then I read Sapiens by Yuval Noah Harari—a book about the history of humankind—and it genuinely changed how I saw the world.


Harari explains that Homo sapiens evolved around 300,000 years ago, yet modern agriculture only began 12,000 years ago. So for the vast majority of our time on Earth, we were foragers. He writes:

“Foragers knew the habits of hundreds of animals and the medicinal properties of thousands of plants.”

And for 2.5 million years before that, other human species—like Homo erectus and Homo neanderthalensis—also foraged to survive. We depended on plants not just for food and medicine, but also for meaning, ritual, and spiritual connection.


Seeing History Differently


This blew my mind. I studied history at one of the top universities in the UK, but I’d never once been taught about “pre-history”—the vast span of time before written records. At 18, I’d even written in my personal statement that what set us apart from animals was our ability to record and pass on knowledge.


How wrong I was. I hadn’t realised just how small a sliver “History” occupies in the timeline of Sapiens—and how connected we still are to the natural world, whether we realise it or not.


Focusing only on what separates us is where we go wrong. This has perilous consequences not just for the environment but also for our own mental wellbeing and sense of belonging.


My First Foraging Course


The idea of finding free, nutritious food in the wild fascinated me. When I found a foraging course in Hackney Wick, run by Totally Wild, I signed up.


Our guide, James, explained that every cultivated plant in the supermarket has a wild ancestor—and that many of these wild foods still grow all around us. Most people treat them as weeds, but they’re often incredibly nutritious.


It seemed so obvious. Why had I never thought about it before?


He warned us that after learning to forage, we’d never walk down the street the same way again. We'd always be distracted by what was growing around us. And he was right.


Taking the Leap


It took me years to feel ready to forage alone. Honestly, I was petrified. Picking and eating something that hadn’t come from a supermarket felt insane. Thrilling—but terrifying.


I kept reading foraging books, slowly learning to recognise plants. But eating one? That felt like a big leap.


Eventually, I decided it was time. I chose two foolproof plants:

  • Cleavers (Sticky Willy), easy to identify because it’s sticky

  • Garlic Mustard, which smells like garlic


I sautéed them with shop-bought mushrooms (I still don’t forage mushrooms!) and served it all on toast.


I was so nervous I spent the rest of the day with a headache, convinced I was going to die. I didn’t. So I kept going.


Finding My Own Rhythm


At first, I felt pressure to whip up Instagram-worthy foraged meals. But I soon realised that just because I loved wild plants didn’t mean I suddenly loved cooking.


Now, foraging is more relaxed. I might nibble something on a walk or toss a few leaves into dinner. It doesn’t have to be complicated.


I also forage a little to create wreathes and bouquets, or wood and stones to put in my garden. It is always done slowly, mindfully, and with a spirit of connection and awareness of not taking too much.


For me, it’s about relationship. Getting to know plants through the seasons. Seeing the world a little differently. And feeling a deeper sense of belonging to the world around me. This comes with a profound sense of satisfaction.


Ready to Begin Your Foraging Journey?


If this speaks to you, I’ve written a simple checklist to guide you through the basics.


Foraging is a slow, thoughtful path—something to approach with curiosity and care. This guide can help you begin, with clarity and confidence.


👉 You can download the checklist for free by subscribing to my newsletter, Wild Soul Whispers. You’ll also receive a wild plant profile each month—something to nourish your connection with the land as you walk this path.




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Always remember to consult a foraging guide before consuming any wild edibles. 

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