Cold Brew for the Soul: An Herbal Tea Recipe to Nourish Your Inner Witch

Because of its simplicity, this is the perfect herbal ritual for van life—on grid or off, kitchen or no kitchen.
In this season, we don't just languish.
We nourish.
About 24 hours before you intend to drink it--make it part of your daily ritual--gather your dried herbs.
I can't tell you which herbs to use.
Only your body can.
In this season, we trust our bodies.
But I'll tell you my version.
I walk to my apothecary and I feel into what I want.
For me, I need ultra nourishment right now, so I select the following herbs:
Nourishing Cold Infused Herbal Tea
1 tablespoon nettle leaf
Rich in minerals like calcium, magnesium, and iron, nettle is like a deep cellular hug. She supports energy, adrenal resilience, and nourishes from the inside out. Foraged? Even better—you’re literally sipping your local earth.
1 tablespoon oatstraw
Gentle, soothing, and deeply restoring to frazzled nerves and weary hearts. Oatstraw is a tonic for the nervous system and helps rebuild where burnout has hollowed us out. Think of her as the herbal equivalent of a warm bath.
1 tablespoon peppermint or spearmint—whatever feels right
Mint brings lightness and movement. Peppermint is bold and clearing; spearmint is softer, sweeter, and more heart-centered. Let your body choose what it needs today. Either way, mint brings clarity and refreshes your inner waters.
1 teaspoon red clover leaf
Traditionally known for its gentle lymph-moving and estrogen-balancing gifts, red clover carries a soft feminine energy. It whispers of slow healing and deep replenishment. Think of it as a meadow in your cup.
Because I currently live with little people who--sometimes--do dishes, I scout for a mostly clean quart mason jar to put these herbs into.
Over these, I pour pure distilled water and then I gently set a lid atop, placing it safely out of the way in a nook or cranny.
In 24 hours, I pour the herbs through a strainer over another--mostly--clean jar, thank them for their gift and add them to the earth or the compost bucket.
Next, I dip a spoon into the jar and let a teaspoon or so of blackstrap molasses swirl into the tea. Feel into this part. Do you want to have your molasses on the side or in the tea?

Here's where our rituals will diverge again.
Take your tea, find your space, savor the moment, close your eyes and say your version of:
In this moment, I am all that I need to be.
And before your "yes, but" tries to assert itself, look it in the figurative eye and tell it to stop.
In this moment, you are all that you need to be.
Bottoms up, witches. Transformation doesn't happen without nourishment.