Rosemary Herb Infused Honey Wine Mead Jar Memorial

This jar of rosemary branch and leaf infused honey wine mead is a permanent memorial to the tragic loss of my beloved and remarkably resilient rosemary bush. I'm used to have a number of very robust rosemary bushes in my more temperate climate gardens. I would burn the dried leaves like sage for ceremonies, to uplift the mood. I would put the leaves many a dish, on an almost daily basis, and I'd love to watch the bees enjoy their small purple flowers. The plant romance goes back so many years, with so much mutual enrichment and success. This was the first and only time that I've failed to keep one alive. While I was crossing my fingers over the course of the passing of the first full cycle of four seasons, it did survive quite happily for about a year and a half.

It made it through the frosty winter, the windy fall and spring, and the scorching summer about 1 and a half times around. I had no concern whatsoever about it's health and well being, though I did have to cut back somewhat on the irrigation watering schedule to be sure my water supplies would last an entire year without needing to be restocked with anything but rain water. This moderate cut back, must have led to a slow demise that occurred below the level of my perception. If I could do it over again, I'd have definitely made a point to do the soil moisture finger test far more often to gauge the normal moisture content and thus have metric on the health of the plant beyond the sometimes deceptive healthy look of the rosemary leaves which tend not to show many signs of stress until it's too late.

The silver lining is that, I would not have imagined to experiment with flavoring wine with rosemary parts, were it not for my need to memorialize this plant. I couldn't stand the thought of just composting the remains of the plant, I decided I must preserve them and drink of them periodically to be reminded of my duty to do better next time. As you might expect, the result of this act of humility and reverence for the sacredness of the plant, and seriousness of my failure to properly care for it, was that we bonded even deeper than ever before. Now, as you might expect, the unfolding of this story will eventually lead to my become an ever more meticulous gardener of rosemary, and a maverick of unorthodox herbal wine infusions.