Late May: When Spring Abundance Asks for Presence
The threshold
Late May is not spring anymore, but not quite summer either. It’s the pause before the rush. The last of the spring ephemeral flowers are fading — the wood anemones have gone, the bluebells are darkening — and the early summer plants are gathering energy to bloom.
For us, it’s similarly liminal. The daylight at this time of year in Britain is extraordinary: we’re gaining daylight at a rate of almost 2 minutes per day, moving towards the summer solstice when we’ll have nearly 17 hours of daylight in London. Our bodies are responding to this shift, whether we notice it or not.
This is a good time to pause and notice.
The circadian shift
Light is not merely information for our eyes. It’s information for our entire body.
The sudden lengthening of days in May triggers profound changes in our circadian system. Morning light (which we’re getting more and more of) resets the master clock in our brain — the suprachiasmatic nucleus — and cascades through the rest of our endocrine system. More light exposure during the day means better melatonin suppression during waking hours, clearer circadian signalling, and often better sleep quality, even if we’re sleeping less.
But there’s a trap here: more daylight doesn’t automatically mean we’re using it well. If you’re inside most of the day, the abundance of May light is wasted on you. The effect only happens with direct light exposure — preferably in the morning, when the circadian impact is greatest.
In May, a simple practice shifts everything: stepping outside in the early morning. 10–15 minutes of direct daylight before 10 am will anchor your circadian rhythm, improve your mood, and (counter-intuitively) help you sleep better at night.
The abundance paradox
May is often called the month of abundance — and it is. The foraging calendar is full. Elderflower, wild strawberry, nettles in their second flush, sweet cicely, lime leaves, meadowsweet, self-heal. The kitchen is full of possibility.
But abundance can paradoxically feel like scarcity if you’re overwhelmed by choice.
This is where seasonal eating becomes a practice, not just a shopping list. Eating what’s available in May — not choosing from a global menu — is a way of saying yes to this time, rather than always reaching for something else.
It’s also a way of noticing: what does my body actually want in May? Lighter meals than winter, yes, but not salads alone. The wild greens of late spring are more mineral-rich, more bitter, more nourishing than summer lettuces. Meadowsweet tea, with its subtle anise-like flavour and its salicylates, is particularly grounding when everything around you is rushing into bloom.
Seasonal eating isn’t about restriction. It’s about attentiveness.
Phenology as a teacher
Phenology — the science of timing in nature — tells us that May is a month of transition. The plants that fruited in spring (like wild strawberry) are past their peak. The plants that will fruit in summer (like bilberry) are still flowering. The bees are everywhere, moving between the last spring flowers and the earliest summer ones.
This teaches us something: not everything is available at once, and that’s not a problem. It’s the design.
In our bodies, this translates to seasonal eating not as dogma but as wisdom. Your gut bacteria shift with the seasons. Your nutrient needs change. Your energy levels change. Eating with this rhythm, rather than against it, is one of the most underrated forms of self-care.
Late May practices
As we move through this last week of May towards the solstice, here are three small practices that ground you in this threshold moment:
1. Early morning light. Step outside before 10 am, ideally into direct sunlight, for 10–15 minutes. No sunglasses. This is the most powerful circadian reset available to you, and it costs nothing.
2. Forage something and use it the same day. Pick wild strawberries, or lime leaves, or sweet cicely. Don’t store it. Use it within hours. The practice of immediate use attunes you to seasonality in a way that nothing else does.
3. One meal entirely from what’s in season. Not every meal — just one, today. Nettles from the garden. Meadowsweet tea. Elderflower cordial. Wild strawberries with a little honey. Notice how it feels to eat entirely in sync with May, rather than year-round availability.
These aren’t rules. They’re invitations to presence.
The medical disclaimer
This content is for educational purposes only and does not constitute medical advice. Wild plants can be dangerous if misidentified. Never consume any wild plant unless you are completely confident in your identification. Some wild plants can interact with medications. Always consult your GP before using wild plants medicinally, particularly if you are pregnant, breastfeeding, or taking medication.
Further reading & resources
Explore our Seasonal Foraging Calendar to see what’s at peak availability in your region right now — download it free.
Call to action
Ready to eat with the seasons? Join us for a foraging workshop this summer, where we’ll explore how to identify, harvest, and cook with wild foods at their peak. Or start with our Cellular Reset programme, which incorporates seasonal eating as a core principle.
