Dear stinging nettle, you are a plant much maligned by many, myself included. Yes I am intending to change my ways. Even though, uninvited, you have made yourself quite comfortable all through my orchard, and appear to take some pleasure in traumatising many an unsuspecting child by brushing against their legs and delivering your surprise attack. I'm thankful, there's always some dock growing nearby or some of my everyday balm on hand to soothe the pain, but more often it's the fright that lingers. You're not shy are you, of dispensing your healing gift and I suppose that is how mankind discovered all those aeons ago what it was you really wanted to say. After receiving multiple stings from your delicate leaves some longstanding joint pain would miraculously disappear for days, weeks or even months. It was hence named urtication, after you of course, and folk would flail themelves with your leafy branches wherever they had pain and inflammation. I hope I'm forgiven all those times I cursed you, as your butterfly-wing leaves glanced against my skin reminding me of your unique personal signature. For more details read the full post.