In early spring, when daffodils shyly smile and lift their heads, mugwort (ssuk) begins to sprout, pushing through the frozen ground with fresh green shoots. The forsythia turns bright yellow, the magnolia blooms and then falls, and the mugwort spreads everywhere, growing strong and fast.
"I shouldn't let it grow more," I worry, but I stop myself from picking it. I'm afraid I might get caught, leave fingerprints, and pay a fine. So, I just wander around the park, holding back my desire to pick mugwort. Who would understand how I feel?
“How can I pick some mugwort?” I keep looking and thinking, and I walk deep into Riverside Park in Manhattan. In the distance, I see some young girls crouched down, pulling weeds. I walk closer and see that they are college students pulling out mugwort by the root to clean up the park as volunteers.
"Can I pick some mugwort?"
I ask. They are happy, thinking I’m joining their work.
When I suddenly start picking the mugwort like it’s something special and put it into a brown paper bag,
they ask, “What are you going to use it for?”
I explain in detail. Then they also take a little bit for themselves and start leaving. I walk out of the woods with them.
Every spring, I search for mugwort to make tea. After picking it, I wash it many times, remove the water, and put it in a ziplock bag in the freezer. Whenever I want, I take some out, pour hot water over it, and enjoy the bitter flavor and mugwort scent all year. I also use it in foot baths to keep my heels soft and smooth.
My husband says I should be careful and make sure it's safe. But I believe drinking mugwort tea and doing foot baths is why I’ve become healthier. My husband used to be surprised by how cold my hands were, like touching ice. Now, he says they are warm like a fish-shaped bun (붕어빵). When I had stomach problems, mugwort tea helped me stop diarrhea. I drink it three or four times a day instead of coffee. Just one hour of picking in early spring gives me enough for a whole year, saving money and helping my health. That’s why I talk about mugwort every spring. Once I store enough, I feel like my spring farming is done. Then I relax and enjoy the sweet scent of acacia flowers in the Hudson River breeze.
They say memories connect with our senses. When I was a child walking country roads, soft acacia blossoms fell like fluffy snow. I felt as happy as a puppy playing in snow. I remember chewing on a handful of acacia flowers — their sweet scent filling my mouth. That memory comes alive each spring and opens up all my senses again.