As farmers and gardeners sink seeds in Nebraska’s warming soils, Mother Nature offers a ready-to pick harvest of her own.

Rural field edges and road ditches swell with activity when wild asparagus pokes from the ground, and mushrooms lure foragers to brave ticks, mosquitoes and poison ivy while venturing off beaten paths. For people who know what to look for, a flavorful buffet of wild edibles is ready for picking and plucking within Lincoln’s city limits.

Adam Hintz lives within easy walking distance of the Nebraska State Capitol. From his historic Near South neighborhood, the 400-foot-tall tower topped with the Sower is cloaked behind a canopy of oaks, maples, sycamores and hickory trees – some nearly as old as the city itself. While exploring on foot during spring or summer, Hintz can discover up to 30 species of wild edible plants without leaving the single square mile that encompasses his bustling neighborhood.

With a plant identification book in one hand and a small gardener’s trowel in the other, Hintz explores the edges of lots and alleys while keeping an eye out for the dandelions, plantain, clover, lamb’s quarters, purslane and other volunteer vegetation that are common weeds. He admits admiring his neighbors’ gardens and attempting to discern if any of the plants growing through the cracks in their sidewalks are edible.

Hintz sees the plants as nutritious food for his family. From flower petals and pine needles to stems and leaves, he routinely harvests uncultivated greens to garnish a salad or even brew up a cup of tea.

He has developed a connection with the land in Lincoln in his more than a decade of urban foraging. He tries to cultivate that relationship in his teenage sons, Elliot and Milo. They learned how to harvest elderberries by sitting elbow-to-elbow with their father under the shade of an old oak tree in their backyard.  

“I watch my kids sitting there picking tiny elderberries off a stalk and I think about how people have been doing this for thousands of years,” Hintz said of the fruit that is high in antioxidants. “Foraging is fun, but it also connects us to the land and traditions that have been passed down through generations of Nebraskans.”

Many of the plants growing wild in the neighborhood today, “weeds” persecuted with steel hoes or chemicals, or yanked from the ground and tossed, were coveted by residents only one or two generations ago.

Marcie Young lives in one of the Near South neighborhood’s oldest houses. Builders broke fertile ground in 1887 for the structure that would become the home of John M. Thayer, Nebraska’s sixth governor. Young shares Hintz’s love of foraging. She’s been canning rose hip jelly since at least 1989. One of her favorite plants to forage for has a painful reputation.

Known for the sharp hairs that cause skin to burn and itch, nettles – known commonly as stinging nettles – are only safe to eat after being properly cooked. Young approaches the plant as if preparing for botanical battle.

“You have to use thick gloves and scissors, but in early spring you can easily pick a big mess of the young, tender sprouts,” Young said. She sautés them with garlic and olive oil or butter. Young is known for sneaking wild edibles into Easter dinner. She makes sure that family members are enjoyably slurping down her nettle soup, the fiddlehead ferns that taste exactly like asparagus, or other foraged fare before telling them what’s in it. She often joins Hintz during wild food walks of the neighborhood.

Hintz’s ever-present guide book has taught him which plants bite back. Two rules keep him safe. He ensures plants haven’t been sprayed with toxic herbicides or pesticides – wilting and fading colors are signs of contamination. When in doubt, Hintz moves on to greener gathering spots. Rule No. 2: double-check that he has correctly identified a particular species.

The latter is especially important since some poisonous species have edible doppelgängers. Queen Anne’s lace, a type of wild carrot, is safe for consumption, but its white flowers resemble the extremely poisonous blooms of water hemlock.

“The stems of Queen Anne’s lace have little hairs on them where the water hemlock does not, so remember that the queen has hairy legs,” Hintz said.

He uses caution when trying a plant he’s never eaten, even when he is confident in its identity. Hints takes a small taste, spitting it out if his mouth begins to feel numb. He shares important tips like these when he leads foraging hikes in the Near South neighborhood or in nearby Wilderness Park.

As past president of the park’s friends group, he oversees everything from organizing hikes to fundraising and outreach activities. This work helps cement the Lincoln native’s relationship with his beloved hometown.

Hintz suggests budding foragers learn about four common wild edibles: yarrow, curly dock, cattails and mullein.

Yarrow blooms in clusters of mostly white or pale-yellow flowers which resemble Queen Anne’s lace. For adventurers who suffer a scrape, Hintz advises making a poultice from yarrow leaves and applying it to the injury to stop bleeding and stave off infection.

Curly dock grows in rosettes and can reach 5 feet tall if untamed. Its leaves have wavy margins. The plant often grows near nettles and can be used to reduce the pain of brushing against it. Break up the leaves and rub the sap on the affected area.

Lincoln teems with cattails, the tall, grass-like plants with easy-to-identify brown flower heads that thrive on the banks of Salt Creek and the community’s ponds and marshes.

Hints calls cattails the “Swiss Army knife of foraging.” The cottony blooms work as tinder for starting a fire. When boiled, the green spikes at the top of the plant smell and taste like corn on the cob, Hintz said.

Finally, when out in the woods and nature calls, look for mullein, an invasive plant known for its velvety soft, wide leaves.

The novelty of harvesting wild plants for the dinner plate or other purposes is only part of the entire foraging experience.

“When you can steep fresh wild raspberry leaves you found growing just outside your door into a nice, healthy tea, it makes being out in your neighborhood a more meaningful experience,” Hintz said. “At that point, the land becomes a part of you.”