Harper at work
A journey that began in wonder, and bloomed in mindful, earthen craft

Born from Garden and Grace

Meadow & Mill began in the hush of summer afternoons and the soft rustle of herbs in an old garden—my grandmother’s, where ivy climbed the windows and jars of earth-toned tinctures caught the light like stained glass. She never called it an apothecary, but it was one in every sense. She taught me to listen—first to plants, then to the world around me, and finally, to myself.

That quiet magic stayed with me.

Years passed in a blur of city noise and restless motion, but something deeper kept calling me home—back to the dirt under my nails, the scent of rosemary in the sun, the slow joy of making with my hands. I began again. I grew, I gathered, I crafted. And from that practice—equal parts memory and intention—Meadow & Mill was born.

This is more than herbal goods. It’s a grounded life. A return to slower rhythms and honest materials. A remembering of what it means to live close to the land, to create with care, and to offer that care, gently, to others.

What Grounds Us

At Meadow & Mill, everything begins with intention—with a belief in the quiet power of nature and the rituals that help us return to ourselves.

We're here to offer more than herbal goods. We're here to share a way of living that honors slowness, simplicity, and the wisdom of the earth.

Our work is guided by a handful of core values:

  • Slow, intentional living
  • Earth-rooted wellness
  • Handcrafted with care
  • Everyday ritual as healing
  • Honoring old ways

Each creation is an invitation to reconnect—with your body, your breath, and the wildness that lives just beneath the surface.

Quiet Hands, Wild Heart

I'm Harper—herbalist, forager, observer of small things.

I've always been drawn to the quiet side of life: plants, books, mossy corners, soft rituals. I feel most myself with dirt under my nails, a bundle of herbs drying nearby, and a mug warming my hands. I'm not loud, but I notice everything.

I find joy in the in-between moments—steam rising from a kettle, the first green shoots of spring, a drawer full of wax paper and twine. I like things that take time.

I live simply, and I love it that way. I make, I gather, I write things down. I believe in slowness, usefulness, and beauty that doesn't ask for attention.

That's the kind of person I am. The rest—you'll feel in everything I touch.

Harper foraging

Where the Work Breathes

My craft moves with the seasons. I gather herbs with stained fingertips and a woven basket, listening to what the land is offering. Some days, that's a handful of mugwort near the creek. Other days, it's just stillness—and that counts too.

I steep things slowly. I stir by instinct. My studio smells of cedar, beeswax, and drying leaves. Nothing is rushed. Tinctures rest in amber jars on the shelf. Salves are poured warm, into little tins that cool like morning dew.

I don't make things for shelves—I make them to be held, used, and woven into daily life. Every item begins with care and ends with intention, wrapped like a gift and sent with a breath of the woods still clinging to it.

"Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience."
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson