ABOUT ROWANRICHT
Rowanricht is where women gather to remember the old ways.
Here, we work with our hands, connect with the land, and rediscover the ancestral wisdom that flows through us all — the inner knowing of how to make, how to heal, how to belong.
Through traditional craft and seasonal practice, we root into something deeper than ourselves. A magick that’s always been yours.
We gather. We craft. We remember.
So many women right now are exhausted from trying to be all the things… perfect wife, mother, friend, carer, keeper of all the unspoken things that hold life together.
I know this exhaustion because I lived it for years.
As a young mum, I felt incredibly alone. No community, no guidance – just patterns I’d inherited of over-giving, self-sacrifice, never being enough. I was burnt out and resentful, pouring everything into motherhood with nothing left for myself. I carried this constant feeling of what I can only describe as homesickness – but for a place I’d never been and couldn’t even name.
The birth of my first baby was the turning point, though it would take me years to understand what was shifting within me.
Those long days outside – feeding ducks at dawn, puddle jumping, mud painting, faerie hunting – weren’t just keeping him happy. They were keeping me sane.
I started following that connection to nature: art made from found materials, forest bathing, herbalism, traditional crafts. And the closer I grew to the land, the more curious I became about the people who had walked these same places before me – working with the same plants, seasons, and natural materials.
Each small step brought me closer to something I’d been missing my whole life… belonging.
Through plant lore, traditional skills, and the folk customs of my Scottish homeland, I finally felt rooted… not only to the land, but to my own history and to the long line of people who had found meaning, beauty, and belonging through these same practices.
This work gave me back a sense of home – something I’d always craved but had never been able to name. It taught me to live more closely with my own rhythms, trust myself, mother with greater presence, and nurture myself as freely as I nurtured others.
But this work isn’t about dressing up ordinary life as something mystical. I’m not interested in perfect linens, sacred waterfalls, or a silver chalice conveniently tucked into the basket.
I’m interested in something older, grittier, and more rooted. Hands in the muck. Plants gathered from the places we actually live. Skills passed from hand to hand. Ritual woven into ordinary life.
This is folk practice stripped of performance—practical wisdom, craft, and ritual your great-granny might have recognised, even if she never called it magick.
When women remember who we are and reconnect to what grounds us,
it ripples out — to our families, our communities, the next generation.
Underneath the burnout, self-sacrifice, and daily monotony is a deeply nourished, creative, magickal self waiting to be remembered.
Cultivating a relationship with land, ancestral wisdom, and the work of our hands can help us find our way back to her.
Rowanricht is a word I created from two things that have shaped my own journey.
ROWAN – the tree of my birth month, and one long woven through Scottish folk practice as a tree of protection and magick.
RICHT – (pronounced with the guttural “ch” of loch) a Scots word for true, real, and authentic.
Together, they hold the heart of this work: that through relationship with nature, creativity, and the wisdom carried through old practices, we can return more fully to ourselves—to what is real, true, and alive within us.
To live Rowanricht is to live rooted in the land and true to your own magick.
At Rowanricht, there are many ways to step into that ripple
Come craft with me in person: dye, weave, and gather in rhythm with the turning seasons.
Learn from home, at your own pace. Ritual, craft, and rewilding practices to root you back into belonging.
Handmade, earth-rooted pieces that are slow, intentional, and steeped in story.
You were never as lost as you thought.
This work isn’t about becoming someone new.
It’s about returning to the parts of yourself that the noise, expectations, and busyness of modern life taught you to leave behind.
Your creativity. Your instincts. Your relationship with the land beneath your feet. The intrinsic knowing that you belong here.
The way back begins with one small practice.
