Hi, I’m Katie Rose, herbalist, forager, ecologist, educator, and founder of Woven Herbs. I grew up tromping through the coastal California canyons, following deer trails, naming every bend in the path and fork in the road, and imagining a world where plants were medicine, friends, teachers, and currency. I didn’t know it then, but I was beginning a lifelong relationship with the plant world.

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I went on to study Environmental Science at UC Berkeley and earn my Master’s in Ecology in Germany, eventually conducting ecological research across five countries with UC Berkeley, the Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute in Panama, the Charles Darwin Research Institute in the Galapagos, the GUMP Research Station in French Polynesia, and the Leibniz Center for Tropical Marine Research in Bremen, Germany. In many ways, my education gave me a new language for the world I had already been quietly learning from as a child—the relationships between plants, people, animals, soil, water, and place.

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After years of studying ecosystems, I found myself drawn back to a more intimate relationship with the plants themselves. I founded Woven Herbs in the forests and slopes of Big Sur as a way of bringing together these two ways of knowing: the scientific understanding of ecology and the older, more intuitive practice of listening to plants.

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At the heart of Woven Herbs is a simple question: what does it look like to remember that we belong to the plant world, rather than simply live alongside it? I see the plants as my beloved mentors, continually teaching me about relationship, resilience, reciprocity, and place. My work is an ongoing practice of listening—learning how to harvest with care, create with intention, and honor the plants not only for what they give us, but for who they are.

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I believe there is a deep remembering waiting for us in our relationship with plants. Through foraging, tea making, plant crafting, and learning the ethics and patterns of reciprocal land stewardship, I invite people to experience themselves as participants in the living world. My hope is that we begin to see ourselves not as separate from the landscape, but woven into it—into the herbs, trees, fungi, animals, water, and soil that sustain us.

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