Finding Beauty In Those Lovely, Lowly Weeds

“…that which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet…”

Juliet, from Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet

By Nancy K. Crevier

A weed is a plant growing where it is not wanted. Most would concur that a weed also tends to be a plant that is not normally cultivated, or that has become so invasive as to push out plants that are desirable. The term “weed” conjures up an image of something ugly and evil; but many of the wayward plants called weeds are undeniably lovely.

From April to October, Mother Nature sends forth wave after wave of delightfully colored blossoms. Tiny pale-colored flowers that grow on hair-thin stems, flowers that cluster close to the earth, or flowers that flaunt their good looks with brilliant colors and extravagant vines drape the landscape. Pinks and whites merge with blues and purples, yellow and orange flowers splash color like rays of sunshine fallen between leaves. Some are there through the helping hand of a gardener, some are nurtured by Mother Nature, some are spread via birds and wildlife. The flowers are familiar or oddities, and they are liked — or loathed, if they are deemed a weed.

Dandelions are the scourge of lawns, spreading via their delicate seed puffs from one part of the yard to the next. But what child has not been attracted to the brilliance of the yellow dandelion? The mother or father who has never received the gift of a slightly limp bouquet of hastily picked dandelions has missed out on one of life’s more precious moments. The greens of dandelions grown on lawns not treated by pesticides are a delicious, nutritious spring delicacy, with the young, tender leaves being a great salad addition, and the larger, older leaves lending themselves to sautéing. It seems a shame that the sunny, feathery faces spotting the landscape can be so unloved and mercilessly removed at the point of a spade.

Similar to the dandelion but with a more delicate display of raylike petals, the yellow or bright orange hawkweed dots the landscape in summer. A member of the sunflower family, the flowers grow in clusters at the end of a fuzzy stalk. Hawkweed adds a splash of color, but is frequently yanked by its invasive roots to provide for an orderly, homogenous green lawn.

Another lawn weed so hard to dislike is the viola. Also known as heartsease or Johnny jump-ups, this precursor to the common pansy blooms from April to September. Tiny flowers on tender stems, violas can range from a pure deep purple to bicolored or tricolored, white, lavender, or yellow. As pretty as they are, violas spread quickly and vigorously, soon taking over any spot on the lawn or in the garden, making themselves unwelcome guests. So, despite the fact that the viola has been used medicinally for centuries to treat ailments such as epilepsy, asthma, eczema, coughs, rheumatism, and cystitis, the viola’s overeager appearance has relegated it in the eyes of many to the status of weed.

Where dandelions and violas have not taken over, perhaps the ground ivy, also called ground mint, has made itself to home. The creeping vines covered with round, glossy, scalloped leaves spread rapidly throughout a lawn. But there is still no denying that the deep purple flowers along the short, upright stem add lovely color to a green landscape. It might be better to live with the ground ivy, appreciate its lovely flowers, and admit that some battles are not worth fighting.

Invasive Immigrants

As vigorously invasive as the viola, but equally pretty when in flower, is the Asiatic dayflower. A member of the spiderwort family that was brought to the Americas from (surprise, surprise) Asia, the densely packed, narrow leaves reach far and wide on jointed stalks as the shallow but hardy root system works to take over any plot in which they have taken up residence. There is a sense of dismay at having to weed it out, though, when it blooms. Each blossom peers up from the mass of green leaves like a funny little face, two pure blue petals sticking up like ears above the yellow and long white stamen jutting out over a third opalescent greenish white petal below. Not surprisingly, the life of each blossom is brief — just one day.

By early June, clusters of minute white flowers atop long stems framed by feathery, carrotlike leaves mark the debut of Queen Anne’s lace, a delicate weed growing at the edge of fields and along sunny paths. Also known as bishop’s lace or bird’s nest, the occasional cluster of flowers contains one deep red or purple flower at the center. Folk tales say that it is a drop of blood from the finger of Queen Anne, its namesake, who pricked her finger as she made the lace. Bees and butterflies are attracted to this pretty flowering weed, and dragonflies will often make use of the groupings of flower clusters as a sort of insect bachelor pad, hanging out there until a pretty damsel fly comes along.

Queen Anne’s lace is sometimes confused with its relative, the cow parsnip, which has a far less diaphanous leaf. Giant hogweed, a highly toxic plant with a hairy stem that grows to towering heights, also start out life mimicking Queen Anne’s lace. The white flowers form in groups of clusters at the top of the stem, but unlike the innocent Queen, this plant is a dark knight. Sap from the giant hogweed can cause photosensitivity and blistering if it comes in contact with skin, and it can be quite dangerous if any sap gets into the eye. If there is any question, steer clear.

One of the prettiest of the summer weeds is chicory. Ditches and meadows are covered from July to September with the periwinkle-colored flowers on airy stems branching out from a fibrous main stem. Actually a perennial herb, chicory was brought to the United States from Europe, where it was used for centuries as a food and medicine source. The root of the chicory plant can be baked and ground and brewed as a coffee substitute, or, as is done in the South, mixed with coffee. The blue flowers are attractive not only to people gathering bouquets, but to bees and butterflies gathering nectar. Interestingly enough, the flower opens wide in the early morning, but by afternoon, the blossom has closed up tightly for the day.

Ground War

Lawn warriors have long battled armies of red clover marching across lawns that would dare disrupt the smooth, green swathes of grass. But red clover — with a more of a purple flower than red — is another one of those herbs that originally traveled from Europe to the Americas. The University of Maryland Medical Center notes that red clover traditionally was used to treat many medical conditions, including cancer, menopause, heart conditions, and skin irritations. For most modern day citizens, though, red clover remains just another pretty weed coloring the landscape.

The pendulous groupings of tiny trumpet-shaped purple flowers growing on thready stems is known as cow vetch. A member of the sweet pea family, as is red clover, vetch blooms from spring through late summer. Oval leaflets scramble up the sides of the flimsy stems, so weak that vetch frequently falls over, smothering vegetation below it. Like pea plants, tendrils reach out from the plant grabbing hold of and choking out any other small plants growing nearby. It is this aggressive tactic that has caused vetch to fall from disfavor with many land and garden owners. So a handful of blooming vetch plucked from the field to beautify a picnic table will not be missed by most.

Pale pink or white petals encircle a yellow center, the whole flower not much more than half an inch across on another weed that is a perfect addition to a wild bouquet. Daisy fleabane grows prodigiously at roadsides and in fields throughout the summer and into early autumn. The plant takes its name from the belief by early settlers that its presence discouraged fleas, although recent lore dispels that myth. Even if it is only a pretty face, it is always a pleasure to see daisy fleabane bobbing in the breezes.

Frowned upon for its aggressive nature, daisy fleabane’s cousin, the oxeye daisy, is another perennial herb gone wild. Where one oxeye daisy appears, soon others will follow, which is a bad thing for slower growing native species, but a good thing for the eye. A stretch of oxeye daisies blooming in a ditch is hard to dislike.

Weapons of mass destruction could be set aside if foreign countries were satisfied to sit back and let invasive plants like Oriental bittersweet, purple loosestrife, and porcelain berry do their dirty work. Transplants from across the ocean, as so many of our weeds are, these three plants are oh so beautiful but terribly destructive to native plants.

Brutal Beauties

Like its American counterpart, Oriental bittersweet is a climbing vine that rapidly winds its way up and about bushes and trees. It is treasured by decorators for its bright orange and yellow fruits that appear in fall. But because Oriental bittersweet grows far more swiftly than native American bittersweet, harboring the vine is discouraged. Clip away at the fruits before the birds can spread them any further.

Ram Pasture once boasted a thicket of purple loosestrife that painted the field with shades of violet each August. With purple flowers tightly grouped to form a tapering cone, the loosestrife was beautiful. But native species suffered beneath its heavy-handed growth, and steps were taken to eradicate the invasive plant that originated in Australia and Europe. Once sold in garden centers as a cultivated plant, the plant has effectively escaped confinement and clogged numerous waterways and wetlands. Feel free to not only pick it, but pluck it up by the roots. Admire it from the safety of a vase.

A gorgeous, sprawling vine, the porcelain berry sports leaves that resemble the grape, with eager tendrils grasping any nearby object and clinging tightly. The flowers are unimpressive, but the berries that appear in late summer turn to an unusual shade of turquoise. It is a lush and lovely plant, but the woody vine rapidly overwhelms other vegetation. A native of Asia and Russia, the porcelain berry is spread by birds and animals that ingest the berry, and a sturdy root system that sends it coursing through a landscape. It is difficult to get rid of once it takes hold, but by trimming it back before flowers or berries form, the spread can be somewhat contained.

So invasive that it is actually banned in Connecticut and is illegal to move, sell, transplant, or cultivate, Dame’s Rocket is frequently mistaken for wild phlox. Both grow on willowy stems to heights of three feet or more at the sides of roads and in semishady areas. Both bloom in summer, although Dame’s Rocket will bloom a bit earlier in the spring, with flowers of white, pink, or lavender.

Wild phlox is a native plant, an escapee from cultivated gardens that has become comfortable in the wild. Generally a soft lavender in color, wild phlox has five petals, differentiating it from its identical twin Dame, which has just four.

Flowers play a vital role in the circle of life, whether they are recognized species with credentials or accidental visitors burdened with the moniker of “weed.” Beauty is, after all, in the eye of the beholder; and if native plants are shown respect and invasive species not encouraged, where is the harm in admiring a weed?