In February, 70 foragers met at the Field Studies Council building in South Cumbria. If you’ve wondered what a gathering of foragers is like, or if you are an AoF member and thinking about attending the 2026 Annual Meet Up, Sam Webster shares an overview of the AMU 2025.
We arrived with the excitement of Christmas for seeing distant friends whom we often call our foraging family. These gatherings are one of the highlights of the year. The hugs on arrival were plentiful and the venue was a beautiful Georgian building set in a stunning woodland with a canal along one side.
Part of the joys of the foragers’ AMU is the food, and indeed we shared some wonderful meals. Often at these meetings, timed for the winter season when other people think about foraging less, we celebrate Burns night and thus share an ode to the staggis (haggis made with venison rather than lamb).
Sharing is a big part of the meet ups. Not just food, we share our subject specialties and run short talks and workshops for our peers. Stand out talks I attended were the seaweed workshop run by Darach O’Murchu where we learned about the different types of seaweed in our British waters, wild butchery by Micheal White and how to get books published by Rachel Lambert.
We also enjoyed a trip to the local coastline. It was lovely to get some fresh air after a wonderful night of toasting our kinship, and explore a beautiful coastline and do some foraging and gather some wild ingredients for our evening meal.
There was lots of time for relaxing and catching up, we enjoyed many moments sat around the fire enjoying freshly made laver breads made by Mark Williams, a few of us enjoyed morning wild dips in the canal, and the sharing of many drinks and toasts in the evenings.
Leaving the AMU is the hardest part, and saying goodbye to our beloved friends, but we leave inspired and our hearts full of love and happiness after spending time with the members of the Association of Foragers.
If you are thinking about joining us for the 2026 meeting the location is in Devon, details have been emailed to current members. If you’ve lost the email or are in the process of joining, get in touch to ask for the details on the general contact email.
"I’ve always wanted to know if I could survive the apocalypse."
Sam Webster shares her experience of living on wild food for three months.
With knowledge from Monica Wilde, who spent 12 months living on wild food, and 26 people who participated in Wildbiome 1, living on a wild food diet for 1 or 3 months, I felt equipped to join Wildbiome 2 in 2025. I started collecting and storing nuts, seeds and mushrooms in the autumn of 2024. At the beginning of March I started to cut down sugar, chocolate and biscuits ready for April 1st.
Day one arrived and I sat down to eat my first meal which was wild crackers with acorn, sweet chestnut flours and deer tallow. They weren’t great. Kinda soggy but also dry as hell. The first week was so hard getting used to blander flavours, no umami like soy or miso, no chilli or curry spices.It all tasted rather one dimensional. I had been so worried about running out of food I didn’t practice many meals beforehand. I’d only practised mushroom flour pancakes, and on day two I got the recipe wrong, making weird dry couscous like stuff that was vile. I had no time to cook anything else so I had to eat it.
By day 4 I was ready to quit. Tallow was making me retch and I was miserable. My sugar loving gut microbes were dying and making me feel rubbish. I longed for sugar, but I had an amazing group of foragers supporting me; it really helped that we all felt the same, and we all gave each other encouragement and resisted sugar. That’s what made the biome project amazing; the epic community. By day 9 we were sending about 70 messages a day sharing some lovely feelings and deep thoughts in the group WhatsApp.
It takes so much time, effort and planning to make a fully wild meal.One morning I spent 2 hours making paté and crackers before I could eat. Meanwhile my son walked into the kitchen, made toast and was full within 10 mins.It broke me.
In the initial days of eating only wild food my muscles didn’t seem to have the strength they had before. Walking up hills was harder work and my muscles ached. But I felt like I had loads of energy in myself; I wasn’t getting afternoon slumps.
Exposure to normal food was a challenge. In week 2 I took my kids to Anglesey for fishing; fun for them, food for me. I sat in the car with the kids eating my cold dry pheasant and some sea beet I’d found, while they tucked into hot fish and chips. The smell of their food was divine and it was agonising to resist stealing a chip.. I didn’t want to let Monica down which is what has kept me strong through the whole process.
As time passed it got easier, until we neared the end of the first month when those on the one month trial “got out of jail”. At least that’s what it felt like and I was still in my wildfood prison. These feelings were short lived especially when I did the body measurements on day 30. Wow I’d lost a fair bit of weight, and was physically starting to feel great. Muscle fatigue had dissipated, and I’d started to create some really yummy food like bbq venison ribs and wild onion bhajis.
At the half way point, day 45, I was lucky enough to be invited out with a hunter. I came home with a pigeon which I used to make salt and pepper Chinese style wings and legs, turning the rest into a curry using my only 3 curry scented milk caps, which I’d found 2 years prior. I cried. It had so much flavour, and the wings and feet were also so crispy. One thing I really missed was crispy food. There’s very little crunch with springtime wild food, fried fish skins and fried nettle leaves are as close as it gets.
Over the three months of wild food I missed various different foods, surprisingly not the sweet stuff. Though there was one day I really wanted a hot chocolate with whipped cream and biscuits, I needed a hug in a mug. Mostly I’ve missed crisp apples and pastry like samosas and spanakopitas . Trying to decide what to do post biome was tough. I don’t really need bread in my life, same with dairy.Yes some cheese or yogurt would be lovely but I can do without. I’m happy living on wild meat, eggs and greens, and I’m loving all the wild fruit that’s about too! I will be adding spices, soy sauce and miso to the food I’ll be getting from the wild as I’ve missed these punchy flavours. I’ve been happily sated on what the wild has given me. I’m as light as I was in my 20s, my body looks and feels great, I never want to go back to the way I was in March.
Participating in the Wildbiome project was life changing for me. I’m thankful for the support from Monica and the rest of the group that gave me the experience.
With naked foraging day on the horizon—August 17th— AoF member Colin Unsworth shares his journey towards feeling comfortable in himself, and also out and about naked.
There’s something wonderful about walking naked through the woods, basket in hand. I walk naked regularly with my partner and soulmate Sadie; for us, removing layers of clothes is like removing the pressures and expectations of society. It feels great – no tight waistbands, no seams, just the feeling of the air moving on our skin as we walk through the dappled shade of the trees. It’s about stripping back to what really matters: our natural world, mental wellbeing, and learning to love the skin we’re in. It is a truly immersive experience!
I think that most people would worry what folk might think if or when they are seen. What if it is someone who knows you?! I was bullied all the way through school, and the bullies were relentless. It didn’t matter what I did, how I held myself, or what I wore, they would spot something to ridicule and humiliate me for. It probably didn’t help that I went to school dressed in corduroy trousers, a home made towelling jumper and “room for your feet to grow” good quality Clarkes spade-end shoes. I think that a lot of us know the feeling. Like, we’ve tried, we’ve given it a go, but it doesn’t work; some people just weren’t made to fit in. So why try? Why not just be myself. And I couldn’t really BE more me than when I remove every layer of costume that I own. Besides, the reactions from members of the public are funny! Most people are fine; most give a wry smile and a nod and say hello. Some are indifferent, although my hunch is that they are just feigning indifference. But it is rare to come across someone who reacts badly. That said, me and Sadie are a gender balanced couple, and this somehow seems to make it easier for people to accept us. A lone male might be seen as predatory, and a lone female might be seen as mentally unstable. But we perform heteronormativity as we walk and fortunately for us that goes in our favour.
Something happens when you forage naked. The connection you feel with the natural world around you feels deep. You can literally feel the atmosphere of the woods on every bit of your body. It is also deeply connecting with fellow naked foragers too. In 2023 I ran a naked forage every month of the year and we foraged with a lot of naked friends. There is something very trusting about it. No one is hiding anything, and they are trusting you with their vulnerability. Sharing knowledge and our passion for nature, there is total honesty when you walk naked side by side. There is a feeling of community.
It isn’t just about being naked. We love to walk and forage with all our friends, and we’d always chose to walk with foraging friends over simply spending time with people just because they’re naked. But it is a special day if we can be accepted as ourselves, comfortable just as we are.
Books are the gift that lives for years. Not just for other people but also when you get one for yourself. So what books on foraging do foragers recommend?
A strong mushroom bias from Daniel Butler including Jane Grigson’s ‘Mushroom Feast’. Daniel is an author himself, having written ‘The Owl House’, which transports you to the centre of Wales as well as sharing foraging.
Roger Phillips’ meticulously photographed books are beautiful as well as informative. We were delighted to have a mushrooming ramble led by him for the AoF annual meet-up in 2018. His books ‘Mushrooms’ and ‘Wild Food’ were specifically recommended by members.
Emily Murphy recommends “Any of the Pascal Baudar books, especially his book on Wildcrafted Fermentation. It covers so much including wild krauts and kimchis, fermented forest brews, seawater brines & plant-based cheeses!”. Working from west coast USA with a the techniques and processes he describes are transferable for using on edible plants and mushrooms growing in your terroir.
Foraging isn’t just about edible plants and mushrooms, it can also include wild materials for inks and herbal medicines.
We've gathered together ,embers’ favourite books and books written by members into two lists:
books on foraging recommended by Association of Foragers members
Foraged, not free!
Maybe the dandelion leaves I pick from my garden could be classed as free as nothing else seems to eat them apart from me. But just because I’ve not handed over money to someone for the thing I just collected from the wild doesn’t mean it’s totally free. There is an impact, a cost that’s not money.
Yesterday I found a beautiful hen of the woods, a joyous score of yummy mush. And large windfalls are bounty I can preserve now, as I prepare to live off only wild food for three months in the Wildbiome project.
As always I didn’t take it all but I took a fair chunk, and when I was cleaning it up and getting it ready to dry I discovered a whole city of woodlice and I’ve come along and destroyed their home and taken away their food.I know they just little creatures that probably don’t have the brain capacity to think beyond mating, eating and survival. But they’re still alive.
If this had been another human destroying another human’s home and taking all their food, there would be outrage, it would be in the news and people would be calling for my arrest. hile I was sorting the mushroom I had an image of really angry and shouty woodlice coming at my hands with tiny pitchforks!
This is the cost of wild food and all food eaten.we just don’t see all the insects and small mammals harmed in food industry. Food is not free, and it should have more value than just money. I’m not going to waste a single part of my mushroom because I couldn’t live with the guilt of taking away the food and shelter of another living being and then letting it go to waste.
To absolve myself, after picking the mushroom, I carefully gathered all of the woodlice that were living in there and gave them all the scraps. This included a bit of porcini ,another prize mushroom that I’d picked. felt I had to share with them. I put the woodlice in a sheltered area of my garden with the remainder of their mushroom meal in the hope they live on.However, that’s probably going to have an impact too, Nothing we do is impact free and it’s good to remember that!
Teaching foraging can be a way to welcome people to local life. Tamara Colchester shares her experience of running foraging sessions for refugees and asylum seekers.
This year I’ve focussed my foraging events on working with communities around Scotland and who don’t have easy access to time in green spaces. The range of needs and challenges are broad, and so far we’ve worked with people living with chronic illness, mental health challenges, blindness, deafblindness, trauma, and domestic abuse, as well as veterans, refugees and asylum seekers. These last two groups that have now become the main focus of our work with Plant Listening, a community interest company I formed two years ago.
Working with all of these groups has brought out the central issue of access. It’s easy to assume that living in a beautiful rural environment ensures easy access to natural spaces. I’ve now learnt that this is far from the case, and that without an invitation, a guide, as well as transport, that spending any length of time in the natural world can be either financially, physically or psychologically difficult. This is particularly true for asylum seekers and refugees, people who are living in a new country, without a network of support, local knowledge, understanding of the language or the financial means to travel.
There is a difference between the opportunities available to refugees and asylum seekers. Refugees have been given legal status, are able to have bank accounts, work, and are given a small amount of financial assistance. Asylum seekers on the other hand exist in a kind of limbo state in which they are unable to legally work, hold a bank account, or travel. Each asylum seekers is assigned to a hotel while their application is processed (this can take over a year) during which time they are given £9 a week to live on. They are threatened with deportation if they spend a night away from the hotel they have been assigned to.
As we’ve recently seen, there is some resistance to the presence of asylum seekers, and so the places they are held can become like prisons. Even where this is not the case, with no financial means there is little possibility of travel by public transport, alongside a sense of unease about their new surroundings and whether they are welcome there.
So far this year we’ve put on three pilot events for refugees and asylum seekers living in Dumfries and Glasgow. These have ranged from days at our base, a hill farm in Galloway, to local walks near their hotels, as well as an organised visit and foraging walk to Luss Estate on Loch Lomond. This diversity is helpful in mapping different options for what works and what doesn’t in offering support foraging experiences to these groups. With the generous funding from the AoF we were able to cover the food costs for three of these events, ensuring we were able to share a meal full of foraged ingredients in the peaceful surroundings of the woods.
Some of the challenges so far encountered include language barriers, transport issues, lack of follow through despite people signing up, the weather (!) and lack of funding. But all of these have been far outweighed by the beautiful experiences each event has given rise to.
Many of the attendees have expressed a deep thanks for being helped to find their way to a space in which they can spend time outside, surrounded by trees, clean water, and plants. Sennan, a man from Yemen who lost his family in the conflict there and whose journey to the UK was a harrowing ordeal, summed this up as he stood by the river watching the water. ‘My heart’ he said, ‘I can feel my heart for the first time since having to leave my country.’
If you would be interested in being involved in any events like these, or advice about planning your own, then please contact Tamara
Andy Hamilton sums up the vibe of the biggest ever gathering the Association of Foragers has had to date:
Many moons ago, and long before what3words made it big, the BBC adopted this identity policy. You’d see it in corners of studios, up on cameras and above DJ booths. Each show had three different words, the words reflecting the core values and identity of the show. Stuff like creativity, local, inclusion, nature or whatever. This year’s meet up got me thinking about the idea once more as core themes jumped out at me. It felt like these words, or words that would sit next to them in a thesaurus, were on many peoples lips.
Of course the first word had to be kindred, I even renamed the weekend Kindred 24. For me it summed up my experience at last year’s meet up and I hoped it would sum up this years too. It might have seemed like a gamble, but really it wasn’t as the weekend was full of warmth, encouragement and bonds that were being either made or strengthened. In other words it really felt like a place where kindred meet.
In fact one member was so overwhelmed by how at home she felt amongst, after years of not feeling like she belonged, that there were tears, staging “It feels like coming home”. I couldn’t agree more.
This year there was a blistering array of workshops, too many to list. But just for starters there was writing, miso, smoking, butchery, cake making, herbalism we even had a highly entertaining foragers confessional.
Each person who put together a workshop did so for free, and that of course means putting in all the preparation and carrying about a bunch of nerves beforehand. Then there was the folk who disappeared off into the kitchen especially, Alex, Rupert, Craig and Kat (from what I saw, sorry if I’ve left you out). Who worked relentlessly, managing the chaos that was the kitchen, to ensure that we ate better than Kings with two multiple course meals a day.
Ok, so I know some of you will be running for the sick bucket with this one. But it’s a fact that none of this would have come together if it wasn’t for the openness of our members. To be willing to be open with each other, to share knowledge and to be humble enough to listen to others isn’t a given in every field (pardon the pun). This was on show in abundance.
There was of course other words and phrases that I could have used, goddess – due to the drumming, late nights, laughter, drinking, poetry, fire and partial nakedness. Indeed, we are blessed in our association as we have somehow stumbled into creating a near utopian vision of the future.
We might only manage to keep it for a weekend, but to have that glimpse is rather magical and I only hope you come along to share it with us next year.
Emma Sandhu from Curious in Nature remembers the joy of her own childhood in Suburban Newcastle. She wonders if the trend for man made Fairy Doors nailed into unsuspecting trees might be a distraction from the real magic in the woods.
When I was small we used to play in the grounds of a grand Victorian Gothic psychiatric facility which stood opposite my house. The area was half-wild and full of wonderful trees. Stately, smooth-barked beeches with layers upon layers of bright green leaves, gnarled hawthorns which drew blood to match their fruit when you weren’t careful, and a twisted chestnut of eerily singular beauty
We were certain that these trees were also home to the fairies, we didn’t really need to think about it. There, in suburban Newcastle in the 1990s, the trees were magical, and the presence of magical folk was a truth we held to be self-evident. We could feel it in our bones.
Now, thirty years later,
It’s, Spring! Light and frolicsome, the world is making itself new again. Bumble bees buzz busily, songbirds greet the dawn, fluffed-up in their fresh-feathered finery. The quickening of life can be felt all around us.
I head out to the woods to drink it all in, but soon stumble across a man-made fairy trail. At first glance it looks like the work of fly-tippers, but no, this dog-eared mess is where the fairies live now.
I wish people would stop putting human stuff in the woods, it only ends up tattered and sad. Nature’s power to renew itself each spring is nothing short of miraculous. The wilder world never gets dowdy, its paint never peels.
I can’t help feeling that these fairy trails are a symptom of how far childhood has fallen away from the wilder world. In my grumpier moments I begin to worry that today’s children can only see fairies if they’re clearly presented in a designated, manufactured area.
I raised my own children in a tenement flat in a busy part of Glasgow. I was a struggling single mum, and we didn’t have much access to outdoor space. There was a swing park opposite, but the road was too dangerous for them to go alone, so I always came too and we never stayed that long. When we moved to a house with a garden in 2018. I remember having to explain to them that they could go outside any time they wanted. But they didn’t.
When I think about the scant opportunities my kids had to explore the wilder world alone, I know I let them down. We can never get those days of wonder back.
I wonder if this all-too-common sense of loss of the wilder world explains the rise of the seticky-tacky human-made fairy trails. Are we responding to our grief for the wild magic we have lost and failed to pass on to our sweet, indoor children?
In my less grumpy moments, I know we can always find wonder in the wilder world, no matter our stage of life. Nature renews itself every year and it’s never too late to go down to the woods today!
And, if you should find yourself trundling round a synthetic fairy trail during the holidays, try walking slowly, like a curious snail…Take your time and look closely. The real fairy doors and secret beetle-burrow windows are still there behind the fading figurines, the magic is waiting to be found, between the mushrooms and moss, just where we left it.
Ru Kenyon writes about the connection between his foraging practice in both everyday living and work as a foraging teacher with custodianship of The Earth in mind.
Earth Day has always felt an absurd ‘day’ to me, as if we don’t live on the Earth every day. Mostly an opportunity for a bit of posturing, presented in the frame of consumer capitalism. Arguably it does more harm than good
After decades of climate warnings, we’ve entered a time of consequences. In the UK farmers can’t plant crops in waterlogged fields after the wettest February on record. Just a taste of what will happen if we allow this to get much worse . We’ve been over 1.5C above the pre-industrial average temperature for the last 12 months. The temperature we’re supposed to stay under by 2050. Sea temperatures and sea ice show even more alarming departure into uncharted territory.
In 2015 the Oxfam paper titled ‘Extreme Carbon Inequality’ produced in my view the most important graph of our time:
Yes, the wealthiest 10% are responsible for half of ‘lifestyle emissions’. This staggering inequality is largely missing from the conversation. It means, when the world’s governments fly into COP climate conferences, it’s basically the 10%, bargaining with the 10%, over the emissions of the 10%. The sustainable carbon footprint has been calculated at around 1 tonne CO2 per person , ostensibly what we’re all aiming for by 2050. The bottom 50% show us it is entirely possible, now, to live on much lower emissions. Subsistence farmers I assume. Hunter gatherers wouldn’t even feature on the graph.
When politicians talk about a green transition, it’s mostly shifting the 10%’s consumption to clean energy. Two major problems – 1. It’s too late 2. It’s too resource intensive to replace the whole carbon economy. What’s actually needed is what climate scientist Kevin Anderson calls Equity . Rapid emissions reduction by reigning in the excess of the 10%.
However, that would contradict the economic paradigm of continuous growth. As many have pointed out though, infinite growth on a finite planet is impossible. There is now though an established movement for degrowth. Fundamentally - an overall reduction in energy consumption and materials throughput.
Overturning the economic paradigm would be nothing less than a revolution, of course. It feels unthinkable here but revolutions are a regular feature through history, and given the gathering crises it looks like that time is coming around again. My thesis, as far as foraging’s concerned, is: instituting radical change in society will take more than politics - a change of heart, is needed. Particularly for the 10%. Research has shown dialogue in fact doesn’t change people’s minds, but participation and a sense of belonging do. Foragers are perhaps well placed to open up space to allow people to come to terms with the crisis. Moreover, we sometimes find ourselves with peculiar access to wealthy people. Making explicit connection to the crisis and how we face it is where I mean to take my work.
Written with beginners in mind, AoF member Andy Hamilton’s new book The First Time Forager published by the National Trust is a great foraging guide for beginners, and handy to have with you in your basket or bag when out foraging. Here, AoF member Sam Webster reviews the book after a few jaunts taking it outdoors for action.
I really like it how it focuses on the most common and easy to recognise species, which is something I always tell beginner foragers to do:don’t over complicate things by trying to learn to much too quickly, get to know a few things really well, learn their habitat, look-alikes and their uses before learning more species. Andy’s book is perfect for this.There’s a great reference section for a quick check on id features and look-alikes which is great in the field, and a more in-depth detailed description for when you’ve got a little more time at home to sit and learn about what you’ve found.
I also really love the photos in the book. I’ve been taking it with me on my guided forays and showing my beginner foragers what the plant will look like later on in the year when it’s in flower or fruiting. The pictures are a good size and show the details and key features for identification which is really useful for beginners
There is also a great selection of recipes in the book, some of Andy’s own creation and others kindly shared by other foragers. This gives a really nice vibe and shows the wonderful sense of community and sharing that many foragers have, especially those joined by membership with the Association of Foragers.
I’ve found inspiration in this book. I might do nettle spanakopita at my next forage and cook, and I look forward to integrating more of his writing through the seasons. Overall this is a great beginner book, and for those working professionally as foragers a fantastic teaching resource.
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