Almost perfect & Elderberry Syrup

I wondered how long it would be until I saw the Raven.  He appeared suddenly, gliding swiflty on an updraft from below the cliff, inconceivably seeming to simultaneously fly upside down and backwards before levelling and calling out to his mate; they meet over the heather, their glossy black feathers shining in the sun. I squint as I watch them head off towards the mountain, glad to be in their territory, under their watch. 

I’d left the house in a rush, late for school drop off and completely forgot about my Pilates class; wearing my jeans and walking boots ready for a dander instead.  I quickly called at my sister in laws to borrow a pair of leggings, flung off my boots and ran through the car park in my bare feet, hair wild and apologising for my lateness.  I’m happy being the weirdo. 

This week has been Autumn proper, autumnal everything; making apple jelly, pumpkin soup, elderberry syrup, wave watching, collecting squashes and apples from the farm shop, leaf kicking, Autumn altar making, candles and fire lighting…you get the picture.  The storm made a great attempt at blowing most of the leaves off and as usual the season rushes on and I’m sorry I didn’t spend more time looking at the colours or searching for conkers.

Getting some quality time outside every day is hugely important to me, the space (perspective), the air (breathe, breathe), the beauty (mood).  If I’m alone I’m checking in with myself; my thoughts, hopes and fears. This morning I was happy to get out to one of my favourite places and in the spirit of last week’s post about shining a light on our beautiful land, let me take you with me. 

After the rushing around I needed a slow walk, one where I could gulp in the perfect views on this autumn day and feel the warmth of the light. The dolerite headland of Fairhead or An Bhinn Mhór frames our town of Ballycastle in a dramatic scene, the angular face creates a perfect vista from the beach.  Spectacular from there, amazing from Rathlin, gorgeous from Torr Head it really is a special landmark but I love to explore it’s magic at the top, it has a real palpable energy, the veil is thin up there.  And the views are incredible.

At this time of year there might still be a few visitors around but most likely you’ll have it to youself. Dodging the sheep on the way up I park at the first car park on the left and head off following the yellow dots painted on the lichen covered stones heading for The Grey Man’s path.  I vividly remember the first time I came here; it seemed otherworldly and magical to me even then, a real adventure.  Skipping from boggy upland to sheltered loughs, walking to the sheer cliff edges to take in the views, mesmerised by the rocks and the sea that never ended.  Running amongst the sideways hawthorn and prickly gorse, all the while looking out for the yellow markers, listening for birds and admiring the flowers. 

Today I startle a couple of fieldfare, the first winter thrush I’ve seen as I make my way across the heath to the cliff.  Following the sheep track with one eye on my footing and the other on the views; I squelch through the bog feeling a little sad that I’d missed the heather blooming.   Next year, I tell myself. Meadow pippit rule the heath and pop up every now and again in alarm. I walk up to a higher promontory; a 360 taking in our ‘mountain’ Knocklayde, the town, Kinbane Head, Sheep Island, The Mull of Kintyre across the water and pretty Murlough Bay below.  I pass the section closest to the edge; trying not to think about how easy it would be to slip or stumble. 

As I watched the rushes swaying in the wind and stared at the waves and gannets off shore I suddenly remembered the children finish school early and have to run back, careful, careful back along the cliff edge.  I’m not a natural runner and the terrain doesn’t help, I splash through the saturated moss flicking muddy water up my trousers and getting too hot in all my layers intended for the slow walk.  Back to the car, I zoomed into town and arrived at school looking a lot like the wild woman that had turned up at pilates earlier.  No matter, at least I had shoes on this time.

The kids want a walk, I can’t say no, I want more autumn today and the golden light is hanging on despite the threat of rain. We head into the forest.

A special recipe for you, if you can find the last of the Elderberries. Mum always had a few bottles of this to keep us going through winter, the kids call it ‘mummy medicine.’

Elderberry Syrup (Roger Phillips)

The Elder tree is revered in folklore and is treasured for it’s health giving benefits; it is linked to magic, witches and fairies and symbolises transformation and renewal.  In Christianity it’s said to be the wood used for the cross that Christ was crucified on and in popular culture it’s the wood of Voldemort’s wand in Harry Potter!  Elder was planted beside homes to protect families and promote fertility. It has a myriad of uses though the bark, leaves and raw berries are not edible.

Ingredients and Method

Pick the fruit on a dry and sunny day, I always thank the tree for its gift.  Fill a sink with water and wash the berries, discarding any leaves and debris.  Now for the time consuming part; using the tines of a fork strip the berries from the stems and put into a saucepan.  Add enough water to just cover the berries then simmer for about 30 minutes, the berries should be very soft.  Strain through a muslin or a clean tea towel, measure how much juice you have and allow 440g of caster sugar and 10 cloves to every 550ml juice.  Put back into a saucepan and heat gently stirring until the sugar has dissolved.  Then bring up to the boil for 10 minutes.  Leave to cool then bottle into sterilised jars.

The number one use is as a cold and flu remedy, for which this has been used since at least the 16^th century.  Dilute as you would a cordial, adding a slice of lemon with a few cloves and just boiled water, I love to add a dash to a hot whiskey.