The comfrey blossoms are open, and I’m a little obsessed.
I’m fairly certain this is Russian comfrey (Symphytum x uplandicum). I guess I’ll know for sure when the blossoms fade and I see whether or not it sets seed. It’s beautiful either way, so I’m happy.
I journeyed with comfrey once, on a sunny day years ago when I still lived in the country. She took me flying over a wide open sea, and dropped me in a tower full of books and steampunk-esque contraptions. The view from the tower windows stretched for miles, and the brightness of the sun on the water dazzled my eyes. Whenever I look at comfrey’s flowers I think of that light-saturated vision, and of the message she gave me while I stood in the tower–that my seemingly disparate passions could be woven together into a coherent whole, and that she could help me with that task. For this purpose, I think an elixir of those beautiful flowers would be appropriate, one with local honey and some appropriate gemstones added during the extraction process.
This vision of comfrey is in line with her medicinal qualities. She is celebrated as a healer who reweaves tissue and repairs sprains and breaks at an almost alarming speed.
Since my initial journey with comfrey, I’ve given her powers a lot of thought. I see her as a powerful ally for those of us struggling to make peace with our shadowy side.
I wouldn’t hesitate to take an elixir or tea of comfrey, but there IS a lot of controversy about the safety of using the plant internally. If you’re concerned about the possibility of liver damage from the ingestion of the plant, a salve, wash, or infused oil used externally would be a good way to work with her powers. I can see even a simple infusion used to bathe the face and hands as a fine way to receive this plant’s gift.
And she is prolific, and generous with her gifts. I can’t imagine having a witchy garden without her.