Native Herbal Medicine at Nourish HQ, Yorkshire.

rachaelfisherpr
Jul 22
5 min read

Nestled in the folds of the Yorkshire Dales, lies Langcliffe Hall — a Jacobean gem that became the setting for one of the most quietly transformative weekends I’ve had in a long time.

I arrived at Nourish HQ, founded by the radiant Charlotte Bell, not quite knowing what to expect. What I found was a deeply nourishing immersion into the world of herbal medicine, connection, and the wisdom of plants — woven together with warmth, depth, and a gentle kind of magic.

We were welcomed into the grand yet grounding space of Langcliffe Hall with mugs of freshly brewed herbal tea — made with flowers and herbs picked straight from the garden just moments before. It was such a simple but beautiful way to arrive. The scent of lemon verbena, calendula, and flowers filled the air as we gathered together in the old hall, already beginning to soften into the pace of the day.

We moved into a quiet room outside, where we began with a short grounding meditation and introductions — a moment to pause, breathe, and arrive fully. From the beginning, there was a sense that this was more than a workshop — it was an invitation to slow down and truly listen, to ourselves and the natural world.

Charlotte & the Language of Plants

Charlotte began the day with an introduction to Ayurvedic medicine and the history of herbal healing. Her knowledge was astonishing — but more than that, the way she spoke about the plants was unlike anything I’ve encountered. She didn’t just teach us about their medicinal uses; she invited us into a relationship with them. She spoke of their energetic properties, how they often mirror our emotions visually — and how working with herbs can become a deeply intuitive practice.

One of the most remarkable parts of her story is that Charlotte spent two years living as a nun in India, treating patients using traditional herbs. She’s since brought this knowledge back to the UK and now works with native British plants, applying the same reverence and precision. Her ability to bridge these worlds — ancient and contemporary, global and local — was inspiring.

These ancient practices that have been forgotten, where modern medicine and science have now taken over, serve as a reminder of our ancient past — a time when there was a herbalist in every home, a practitioner in every town. It's something that resonates with me so deeply. We've become so disconnected from nature, from the plants and rhythms that once sustained us. This experience was a quiet invitation to remember.

Into the Medicinal Garden

After a morning of learning, we stepped into the walled medicinal garden, where plants bloomed wildly and purposefully. Charlotte guided us through each herb she grows, sharing practical tips as well as stories. I learned that mint, if planted in a large pot sunk into the ground, won’t take over — a trick I’ll definitely be using in my garden at home.The garden itself felt like a living library — not manicured or overly cultivated, but wild in the most intentional way. Every plant seemed to belong, not just in its physical place but as part of a wider, woven system of healing and care. As Charlotte walked us through each bed and border, you could sense the relationship she’s cultivated with the land over time — a reverent, reciprocal one. She spoke of plants as friends and allies, of their seasonal moods and preferences, their resilience and sensitivity. It reminded me that the garden isn't just a source of medicine — it’s a teacher. Being in that space, with soil under our nails and the scent of lavender and nettle thick in the air, felt grounding in a way I hadn’t realised I needed. I found myself paying closer attention to the ‘weeds’ in my own garden, wondering what messages they might be offering, what healing they might hold. Something that stayed with me was her suggestion that what pops up repeatedly in your garden is often what you need medicinally. I immediately thought of the borage and mullein that seem to thrive uninvited in mine — a quiet reminder from the land, perhaps.

Making Our Own Remedies

Back inside, we crafted our own tinctures and glycerites using herbs from the garden. I chose Mugwort, known for its support of dreams and intuition, for my tincture. For my glycerite, I blended Lemon Verbena (calming and uplifting), Marshmallow root (soothing and anti-inflammatory), and Yarrow (strengthening and protective). I can’t wait to try them once they’ve steeped and matured — tiny bottles of green alchemy, carrying the essence of the place and the day.

What struck me most about this process was the intentionality behind each step. From the careful choosing of herbs to the quiet act of pouring and measuring, it became clear that this was as much a ritual as it was a recipe. There was something deeply personal about holding the fresh-picked plants in my hands, connecting with their scent, their texture, and their purpose. Charlotte encouraged us to trust our instincts as we blended, reminding us that we often know more than we think we do — that the body, when given space, remembers. This hands-on part of the day made everything we had learned feel tactile and alive. It was empowering to walk away with something I had created from scratch, using plants that just hours before had been growing freely in the garden.. I can’t wait to try them once they’ve steeped and matured — tiny bottles of green alchemy, carrying the essence of the place and the day.

Rest, Food & Fellowship

Lunch was lovingly home-cooked — seasonal, nourishing, and deeply satisfying. We shared stories over the table with the other course participants, many of whom had traveled from across the country. The sense of community, even in such a short time, was palpable.

That evening, we were lucky enough to stay at Langcliffe Hall. My room was serene and beautiful, steeped in history but full of comfort. Charlotte and her husband Mark were the most generous hosts, offering us a delicious dinner and the kind of hospitality that makes you feel like you’re part of something old and cherished.I slept so deeply and woke feeling genuinely rested, grounded, and grateful.

A Thread to Follow

The retreat was a quiet reminder of how healing it can be to reconnect with the land, with our bodies, and with the simple rituals that have been practiced for generations. Charlotte’s way of working with plants — respectful, intuitive, deeply informed — has left a lasting impression.

If you ever feel the pull to return to the basics — to tea made from the garden, to tinctures born of your own hands, to the soft voices of the plants themselves — I can’t recommend a visit to Nourish HQ enough.

You’ll leave with more than just herbal remedies. You’ll leave with a deeper sense of connection — to the earth, and to yourself.