My intention of getting back into natural dyeing in 2025, has got off to a good start!

Whilst I may not have thought of January as being a good time for collecting dye plants, when I was living in the Orkney islands, here on the East Coast of Scotland, I haven’t even had to look further than the end of our road for a range of possibilities.

My first adventure this year, was with gorse, which grows in abundance locally and much of which was in full bloom, even with snow on the ground and ice everywhere. The sunshine yellow blooms are such a cheerful sight at any time of year, but especially so, when the days are short and there are very few other flowering plants about.

I took a couple of walks through the nearby parks, to gather enough flowers for the dye. Working around those big gorse prickles is tricky enough, but with fingers that are numb from the cold temperatures, it becomes harder still.

I was grateful that it was dry and that the sun was shining, and I had the anticipation of glorious natural colour, to help me with my task.

It was really the best plant to have picked first, as coaxing the colour out took very little effort. I had already prepared a kilo of raffia for dyeing, by cleaning and putting it in an alum mordant bath, before rinsing thoroughly. Having dyed a lot of raffia in the past, I was confident that an alum mordant was the way to go and that a pre-mordant wouldn’t be necessary.

I left the blooms to steep for a couple of days, which was perfect, because two of my children had birthdays, so I was far too busy to tend dyes.

With the celebrations over, it was time to pop the gorse flowers on a gentle simmer for an hour and then leave them overnight in the pan. The following morning, I strained off the liquid and put it on to simmer again, this time with the raffia in the pan as well.

Another night of sitting in the pan, before a final rinse and thorough drying next to the boiler in our cellar.

Although the whole process took several days, it didn’t take up too much of my time and could easily be fitted around the first week back to lessons, after the Christmas break. And the reward of patiently waiting, was a box full of sunshine yellow raffia! I never used to be all that fond of yellow as a colour, but over the past few years, I have come to realise how important sunshine and warmth are for my physical and mental well being, and now yellow is one of my particular favourites.

Next up was ivy dye. We have so much of it growing in our garden, a little harvested for dyes, would never be missed.

My plans came a little unstuck here though, as I had not realised that ivy does not work well when dyeing plant fibres. So although simmering the ivy produced a pan full of rich green, the raffia that came out of it, looked almost identical to how it was before I started!

Well you live and learn!

Thankfully I am not easily put off, so I set about creating some dye with bark. I could see two obvious choices – apple bark, from our garden and creeping willow, which grows prolifically near the dunes.

I knew that many barks need to soak for at least a week, before heating, so I left both in the cellar and checked in on them daily. I was expecting the creeping willow to show signs of promise a lot earlier on, as I have had very good results with other varieties of willow in the past. That wasn’t the case, on this occasion though and it was several days before I first attempted simmering. There still wasn’t much colour coming out, so I put the pan back in the cellar and left it again. Second time around, it seemed ready for the raffia, so I popped it in the pan and added some iron water (a mix of rusty nails, white vinegar and water, left for a week or so and then used as an iron modifier).

The resulting colour, once dry, is a green and was not what I expected from a willow at all. After the disappointment with the ivy, it was nice to get a green of any shade.

My apple bark had been soaking, while I had persevered with the creeping willow, so I got straight to work on simmering it and went through the whole process of dyeing, modifying, steeping, rinsing and drying.

I wasn’t happy with the end result, I was hoping for something much darker. So I popped the bark back in the pan and went through the whole process a second time, adding more iron modifier as I worked.

The extra effort and time were well spent, because I ended up with a wonderful chocolate brown and now have three, very distinct colours to work with, in my basketry.

I am so pleased that I managed to get so much variety, so early in the year. I always like to gather my own dye plants, as I like the extra level of connection, but limited suitable space for storing dried plant stuffs, has often made winter dyeing problematic in the past.

Here it seems, I won’t have that issue and in the future I should also have plenty of space to store what I need. Getting this home how we want it, will be a slow and gentle process, so it is nice to not feel any urgency because of my work.

I am intending to make a few dyes each month, throughout 2025 and will look forward to seeing the beautiful colours that nature provides as one season passes over to another.

There is something very centering about the process of working with natural dyes and it is really helping me to find my creative balance again.