Beth Schreibman Gehring

10/30/2026

The other morning, my daughter-in-law left a warm apple Danish on the porch for me, and somehow that small kindness opened the door to an entire story.
There were apples everywhere, my mother’s old china was waiting in the cupboard, the hens were rustling through the leaves, and October was already doing what October does so beautifully without any help from us at all.
It made me think about how much we talk about “romanticizing” the season when perhaps what we really need is to stop rushing past it.
Use the good cup. Put the pastry on the beautiful plate. Notice the light before it changes. Let the apples pile up. Stay outside a little longer. Let someone you love leave something warm on the porch like the warm spicy apple recipe that I”ve included here.
My newest Forage & Gather story is about all of that, and about the quiet realization that this ordinary life may already be the special occasion.
I Don’t Think Autumn Needs Romanticizing is up now. 🍎🍂☕️

https://bethschreibmangehring.substack.com/p/i-dont-think-autumn-needs-romanticizing?r=17kf6h&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web

The Danish was still warm, the apples were everywhere, and suddenly I understood what I wanted from autumn.

09/24/2026

I came home from Santa Fe with a photograph of Jim’s blue corn waffle, a craving for sage and rose tea, a rug I suddenly knew needed to come out of the closet, and the strange, lovely feeling that something in me had been opened back up.

Santa Fe did not make me want another life. It made me see my own with fresher eyes: the old silver and Native American pieces I grew up around, the garden and animals, my children and Wolfie right next door, the kitchen, the horses, the herbs, the witchier parts of myself, and all the things I have loved for years that perhaps just needed a little more room around them.

My new piece is “On Blue Corn and Old Silver, Sage and Desert Rain, and the Quiet Magic of Seeing My Own Life Again in a Different Light.”

There is a recipe in it too, because of course there is: blue corn waffles with huckleberry compote, candied pecans, and Hatch chile honey-cinnamon butter.

I came home from Santa Fe with so much more than I packed.

Now on Forage & Gather. https://bethschreibmangehring.substack.com/p/on-blue-corn-and-old-silver-sage?r=17kf6h&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web

I have been home from Santa Fe for barely a day, and already I am standing in my kitchen looking at the photograph of the blue corn waffle Jim ordered one morning at SkyFire at Bishop’s Lodge and wondering whether I can make it.

09/21/2026

I came home from Santa Fe and almost immediately noticed that autumn had arrived while I was away. The light had softened, the grapes tasted darker and more complicated on the vine, and the last tomatoes in the garden seemed sweeter somehow, as though the scent of the changing air had found its way inside them. Around the old oak trees, jack-o’-lantern mushrooms glowed like small orange fires.

Perhaps travel does that to us. We leave home for a little while, and when we return, our senses are open enough to see what has been quietly changing in our absence.

My newest piece on Forage & Gather is called “The Old Hinge of the Year.” It is about coming home, the autumnal equinox, and that brief, beautiful threshold where summer and autumn meet. There is no need to hurry through it. For a few golden days, we are allowed to stand in the doorway and belong to both.

Happy autumnal equinox, dear ones. May there be beauty at your threshold, warmth in your kitchen, leaves following the wind through your door, and just enough old magic gathering in the corners.

https://bethschreibmangehring.substack.com/p/the-old-hinge-of-the-year?r=17kf6h&utm_campaign=post-expanded-share&utm_medium=web

Happy Autumnal Equinox

09/17/2026

I am so happy to have a piece in this month’s Currents about one of my favorite rituals of the year: the harvest dinner. Not the polished, perfectly styled sort, but the kind where friends, family and neighbors gather around a long table, the garden spills onto the platters, the candles are lit before anyone remembers to be sensible, and I am probably deciding, forty-five minutes before everyone arrives, that we need one more dessert.

There is simply nothing like a harvest dinner. My piece about creating one is in the September 17 issue, and I would love for you to read it here:

https://www.currentsneo.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/09/Currents_Sept.-17-2026.pdf

09/13/2026

A birthday gift, an old tree in my garden, and a bit of New England folklore I had almost forgotten all found their way into the same story.

I have been keeping Robin Wall Kimmerer’s The Serviceberry beside my bed and reading it a page or two at a time, and somewhere along the way it began bringing me back to my own serviceberry, the linden tree I lost years ago, and my second dad in Maine, who once told me the old story of how people knew the earth had thawed enough for burial when the serviceberries began to bloom. I realized that this little tree has been holding far more than berries all these years. It has been holding memory, family, seasons, birds, old lore, and a little of that garden magic I have always trusted.

I wrote about all of it in my newest Forage & Gather piece, “Ah, the Serviceberry.” If you love gardens, folklore, native plants, and the strange way the natural world sometimes gives us back pieces of ourselves, I think you may love this one too.

https://bethschreibmangehring.substack.com/p/ah-the-serviceberry?r=17kf6h&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web

Some trees become part of a garden, and some, over the years, become part of the way we remember our lives..

09/01/2026

I never like rushing autumn in August. I want every last peach, tomato, warm evening, and bare foot in the grass.

But September 1st is different.

Summer is still here, but the light has changed. The garden is beginning to offer up the things that must be gathered, dried, bottled, simmered, and put by. Before long there will be apples in the kitchen, herbs hanging from the rafters, woodsmoke in the evening air, and candles lit before supper.

September always seems to know what is coming. She does not hurry it. She simply begins.

Happy September from The Windesphere Witch and Forage & Gather.

08/31/2026

Confit is what I make in winter. It means my mother’s enormous old brown-and-burnt-orange Le Creuset, lots of duck fat, garlic and thyme, and most of a cold day with the whole house smelling wonderful.
But then I found two gorgeous duck legs at the market stand.
I wanted confit. I did not want the oven on for six or seven hours. So I started wondering what would happen if I made a little pot of duck confit inside my Instant Pot, with the legs actually cooking in duck fat instead of water.

It took a little experimenting, an overnight rest, another fifteen minutes under pressure, and one very good surprise hiding underneath all that duck fat: the most beautiful duck jelly, which became an absolutely wonderful gravy.

I crisped the first leg, made a salad with mushrooms and mustard vinaigrette, poured a glass of w**e, and decided January could wait.
The whole experiment, including exactly how I made it, is up now on Forage and Gather.

https://bethschreibmangehring.substack.com/p/i-usually-make-duck-confit-in-winter?r=17kf6h&utm_medium=ios

What happened when beautiful farmers market duck legs, an August afternoon, and an Instant Pot collided with one of my favorite winter rituals

08/18/2026

I wrote this because I am tired.

Not tired in the ordinary way, although there is plenty of that too. I mean tired of turning health into a full-time job. Tired of the steps and the protein and the sleep scores and the cortisol and the hormones and the endless sense that there is always one more thing I should be doing better.

I have lived in the wellness world for a very long time, first as an herbalist, then as a health coach, and later through functional medicine nutrition, labs, prevention, and all the rest of it. I still believe deeply in paying attention, knowing your numbers, finding good doctors, asking hard questions, and doing what actually needs doing.

What I am less interested in now is spending the rest of my life managing myself.

This piece is about that. About the strange place where caring for ourselves can quietly become monitoring ourselves, and about why I am more and more drawn to a simpler idea of health: get good information, make the changes that matter, then go live your life.

If you have ever wondered when wellness became another thing to be exhausted by, this one is for you.

No Wonder We’re So Tired
When taking care of ourselves became another full-time job.



Come read it on Forage & Gather.

When did taking care of ourselves become another full-time job?

08/13/2026

Ways to Linger in August 🌿

August is doing that lovely thing it does, when the garden is still overflowing with tomatoes, basil, sweet corn and flowers, but the evenings are beginning to whisper that another season is somewhere out there.

This week on Forage & Gather, I’m lingering right here.

I’m talking about peaches and cream, herbs gathered for winter, picnics and water, candlelit evenings under the stars, and the kind of dinner that happens when you’re too tired to make a plan, so you wander into the garden, open the refrigerator, and let August tell you what to cook.

There’s a recipe for my creamy sweet corn, mushroom and garden herb risotto too, because sometimes the very best meals begin with absolutely no plan at all.

Come linger with me for a while. There’s still so much summer left to taste. 💜🌿

https://bethschreibmangehring.substack.com/p/ways-to-linger-in-august?r=17kf6h&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web

and a sweet corn and mushroom risotto for the evenings when the garden makes dinner for you.

07/19/2026

Some stories take years to gather themselves.

This one began with an unexpected breakfast conversation fifteen years ago and somehow wandered through two old apple trees, a tiny Eastern screech owl, a basket of basil, fresh bread, Sunday porch pesto, and the quiet discovery that we weren’t simply buying a duplex.

We were finding our way home.

This one is a little different from my usual posts. It’s longer. It’s slower. It’s meant to be savored.

So, if you have a little time today, I hope you’ll pour yourself a wonderful cup of herb tea, settle into your favorite chair, and come spend a little while with me.

I truly hope you enjoy The Nest That Was Waiting for us…

https://open.substack.com/pub/bethschreibmangehring/p/the-nest-that-was-waiting-for-us?r=17kf6h&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web

How one unexpected breakfast conversation, two old apple trees, and a little Eastern screech owl led us home. (And a really good pesto recipe!)