The Legend of the Lilly Pilly and How to Make This Delicious Jam

The Legend of the Lilly Pilly Spirit

Long ago, before the land bore the marks of iron and stone, the first people of the great southern lands spoke of a tree unlike any other—the Lilly Pilly. It was said that this tree had been a gift from the Spirit of the Waters who moved unseen through the world, whispering wisdom to those who listened.

The elders told stories of how this spirit guided those with open hearts, but Talia had never felt its presence. She had spent her childhood watching her mother grind leaves into pastes, pressing healing poultices against fevered brows and, when everything else failed, murmuring words of comfort. Talia knew the weight of expectation—she was to follow in her mother’s footsteps. She had to learn the ways of healing and wisdom.

Yet, no matter how hard she tried she could not quiet the restlessness in her soul. She did not only want to heal bodies. What she wanted more than anything was to understand the whispers of the land, the hidden knowledge carried in the wind, the way stories lived in the heart long after words faded.

One season, after a drought so fierce it left the rivers as ghostly echoes and the earth a map of shattered glass, Talia felt the unease of her people as if an unseen hand tightening around her chest. They came to her mother in desperation and though the she mixed her medicines and whispered prayers to the spirits, Talia saw the fear behind her steady hands. The water would not return. The land would not heal. Not yet.

That night Talia left the camp, her bare feet pressing into the thirsty soil. If the spirits would not come to her, she would seek them herself. She walked until the sun hung low, its withered light bleeding across the cracked sky and there, in the hush of the wild, she found the sacred tree. Its bark was rough but its leaves gleamed with the promise of new life and from its branches hung clusters of plump, pink fruit.

Hunger gnawed at her but it was not the emptiness in her belly that made her reach out—it was the ache in her mind, the need to know.

As she touched the fruit, the wind stirred carrying the voice—a murmur like rippling streams and distant rains, the Spirit of Water speaking from the parched depths of the earth.

“Eat, child of the earth, and see beyond what is seen.“

The berry burst between her teeth, its tartness shocking, a jolt through her senses. Then—a rush of feeling. Not thought, not vision—feeling. She was the land, cracked and aching for rain. She was the river, waiting to flow again. She was the voices of her people, the weight of their hope, their faith in things unseen.

And then—something more.

A memory that was not hers. A place, far beyond their hunting grounds, where rivers had not yet run dry, where trees still bore fruit, where land still breathed. It was a place her ancestors had once known but in their settling, in their trust that the rains would always return, they had forgotten.

Talia staggered, her hands grasping the trunk for balance. If they did not leave, they would perish. Their faith in waiting would become their undoing. The land had spoken; and she had listened.

She returned to her people carrying more than knowledge—she carried awareness. She did not speak of visions or spirits, only of what she now understood. They must move, follow the water, seek the land that still held life. Some doubted, others hesitated, but Talia’s certainty was like stone. And stone does not waver in the wind.

They followed her.

Their journey was long and many doubted they will ever reach this rich land; some—those who set to traveling with doubt in their heart—even perished along the way. But when they finally reached the land she had glimpsed of they found it as she had felt it—untouched by drought, waiting.

And when Talia was old, when her own hands grew as worn as her mother’s once had been, she went to sit beneath the Lilly Pilly tree, breathing in its scent until her mind quieted… her spirit lifted… and she became one with the whispering wind, with the flowing river, and with the eternal song of the land. Light as breath she rose, drifting beyond sight, her essence twining with the unseen currents of the Spirit of the Water. The currents carried her forward just as it had once carried a voice to her. The currents carried her until she found a restless young girl, eyes clouded with longing, heart heavy with unspoken dreams. And as the child reached for the fruit Talia’s spirit, now part of the ever-moving air, whispered the same words she had once heard:

“Eat, child of the earth, and see beyond what is seen.”

It is said that those who stand beneath the branches of the Lilly Pilly tree and open their heart to listen will feel the stirring of something in their minds—an idea, a memory, a truth long buried. The Lilly Pilly does not give wisdom. It only awakens what is already there, waiting to be seen.

Copyright © Patricia Furstenberg. All Rights Reserved.

As any legend is the echo of a someone’s soul, a tapestry of truths and dreams, of past and imagination teaching lessons or easing a burden, it is also timeless in meaning, whispering of highs and lows and the unseen forces that bind us together… this particular legend was inspired by our beloved dog Blacky whose favorite hide-out and hang-out place was underneath the Lilly Pilly tree…

How to make delicious Lilly Pilly Jam

Lilly Pilly trees as native to Oceania but we have them in South Africa, the Syzygium paniculatum, the Brush cherry or Magenta lilly pilly. This evergreen type of tree was imported from Australia into South Africa probably during the 19th century, after the British occupation of the Cape that would have increased the economical trade between the two regions.

Lilly Pillys pack the crisp sweetness of a small apple and an airy tang of a cranberry into a single, bite-sized berry.

Recipe for the Lilly Pilly Jam: only fruit, sugar, water!

• 800 grams Lilly Pilly fruit (weigh after pits were removed)
• water (just enough to cover the fruits after they are placed in the cooking pot)
• 400 grams sugar (or HALF the weight of the fruits used)
• half a non-waxed lemon – this is not necessary as the Lilly Pilly fruits contain pectin. I added the lemon for a more sour taste (I made two batches of Lilly Pilly jam and although the jam has a subtle sweet & tart taste we loved the slightly more sour batch, the one with added lemon). I removed the pits, let it boil with the fruit and removed it when the jam was ready
• cook for about one hour
• do the cold plate test (place a blob of cooked jam onto a plate placed in the freezer when the jam preparation begun. Run the spoon through it. If the line remains, the jam is ready
• fill up hot jars with the boiling jam (we sterilize them by placing jars and lids in the kitchen basin and pouring boiling water in them, repeating this three times. It is important that the jars are hot when pouring the boiling jam in them; this way they won’t crack). Use a clean kitchen towel to wipe the rim of the jars before placing the lids. Let the jars cool completely at room temperature. We store them in the fridge.

Know that:

• the Lilly Pilly fruit is rich in pectin so there’s no need to add more
• the pits are easy to remove and the smaller berries often have none
• the jam won’t last for long. It is very tasty, sweet and tart with a silky undertone.