Weeds or Wildflowers, and the Eye of the Beholder

It is gardening season, which brings with it, for me at least, the eternal question, what is a weed anyhow?

A friend of mine defines weeds as any plants that grow where you don't want them. Others seem to consider anything that grows naturally, especially native plants, weeds. A third definition identifies weeds as plants that become invasive or detrimental to the local flora and fauna.

As you may have guessed, I find the last definition to be the most acceptable.


Local native plants are well adapted to the area as they have evolved here for thousands of years along with the local fauna. Some plants, such as milkweed (even its common name belies the prejudices we hold!) are crucial to various insects, including pollinators. We rely on pollinators for our fruits and vegetables, so it is important to take their needs seriously. Planting (or letting nature plant) the species that actually really belong in an area is a huge step in helping the local environment.

And before you raise the "native plants are allergens" argument, you need to remember that many introduced species including roses, lilacs and even fruit tree blossoms are also allergens. Killing off all things that have pollen (that would be anything that flowers) because of seasonal allergies is not a viable or practical solution.

In light of this, I have taken it upon myself to rid my property of garlic mustard, many of the dandelions (but not all--see my much earlier post!), a strange thin viny plant the name of which I do not know but it's one that grows quickly and chokes out everything it encounters, purple loostrife, much of the plantain, and any grasses that find their way into my veggie plot.
There is a pattern here--the plants I'm pulling are all invaders that are not part of the native ecosystem.

I also consider Kentucky bluegrass to be a weed. Why? Because it grows incredibly quickly, takes over other grasses, is a water hog, and spreads well, esp. into my veggie garden. It does not tolerate pets particularly well either. Even though we use a push mower, we need to mow every week with bluegrass, but with low maintenance varieties, we could go for three weeks and see the same (or even less) growth. We never watered our low-maintenance lawn, and only once did it go dormant during the summer in the 10 years we were there.

In our new place, the entire back lawn is bluegrass. I have started overseeding it with deep-rooted, drought-resistant, slow-growing seed varieties, but I suspect it will take a few years to overcome. I am debating picking up white clover, which worked very well at our last house, but comes in large packages--way too large for our property! Anyone want to split a bag?

For some fun plant projects to try with the kids, check out the Lemonade plants page here.

Weslandia

One of our favourite books when the kids were a bit younger was Weslandia by Paul Fleischman. In it, a young boy creates a whole civilization based on a mystery plant he grows in his yard. A fun read in and of itself, it also lends itself well to the concepts of basic needs, the development of civilizations, and how creativity and "being different" can lead to great things.

When we pulled out the above ground pool in our backyard, we were left with a large circle of dirt. This was a goldmine for the kids that summer, who were then preschool/kindergarten ages. They used all of their digging tools and trucks and made paths and pits, waterways and dams, aqueducts and bridges and all kinds of "good stuff". It was their area, and I let them have complete control of it.

After a few weeks, some "mysterious plants" began to grow. In the spirit of Weslandia, the kids decided to let them grow. They grew all right--to about 7' high! The kids made paths and forts in there, and had an amazing time within their safe wilderness. Strangely enough, none of the neighbours complained at all. It was one of the best things we ever did with/for the kids.

I recently found these photos that show the area I'm talking about.

Amazingly, and to my own great relief, at the end of the season when the plants began to go to seed, it took less than an hour to pull it all to prepare the area for the veggie garden we started the following year. Never again did I see those plants in our yard though. I'd love to know what they were!

Since that time, I've become more relaxed at letting nature do some of the gardening. The veggies that grow from the compost always taste better, and the raspberry bushes supplied by nature give us enough to make jam to keep us going through the winter.

Milkweed, once shunned, is now appreciated for its importance to local ecology. So often we think we know better than nature, and she gently (or not so gently!) shows us how very wrong we were.

So thank you Paul Fleischman for showing us a world we would otherwise never have seen, and giving my kids and myself one of the best summers ever!