The
Rev. Dana Prom Smith, S.T.D., Ph.D. (6/13/2015)
Springtime is weed time. First, the dandelions appear here and there
with their bright, cheerfully yellow flowers.
Some gardeners welcome them, finding them medicinally and culinarily
useful. Others despise them, digging
them out, root, flower, and petal, no easy task with tap roots burrowing deep
in the soil.
While attitudes about dandelions are
ambivalent and even ambiguous, for some weeds there is unanimous disdain. An unwelcome plant, weeds generally are fast
growing, ingenious, invasive, and supernaturally resourceful.
When the Romans conquered England in 41 A.D., they brought with them the
scotch thistle (Onopordium acanthium)
which originated in lands around the Mediterranean . It eventually hopped over Hadrian’s
Wall , the Roman barrier defending Roman England from the Scots to
the north.
The scotch thistle flourished in Scotland
where it proved itself a defense against Viking invaders. In a nighttime sneak attack upon Scotland , the
Norse, unshod for silence, stumbled into a thicket of scotch thistles. Their cries of pain awakened the inhabitants
who drove them back into the sea. It was
imported into the United
States as an ornamental shrub because its beautiful
flowers.
Now it has become an invasive, noxious
weed. The Latin phrase Nemo Me Impune Lacessit (No One Injuries Me Unpunished) is on the
national emblem of Scotland
along with the scotch thistle. By the
way, after pulling them, put them in a plastic garden bag and dispatching them
to the county dump. Pull them wearing
full body armor.
Another oddity is that it is a cousin
to the artichoke (Cynara scolymus),
both being members of the tribe Cynareae which
takes its name from the Greek word for dog, their bracts looking like the teeth
of a snarling dog. It’s a delightful
vegetable with anti-oxidant and anti-cholesterol benefits. Artichokes can be grown in Flagstaff
just as can scotch thistles; however, while the artichokes grown here are
beautiful, they aren’t nearly as tasty as those grown in Castroville , California .
Another member of the tribe Cynareae is the Centaurae diffusa, commonly called the diffuse knapweed which in
the fall and winter turns into the tumbleweed.
It, too, has snarling dog’s teeth.
The word cynic comes from the Latin word for dog, cynicus. Cynics are toxic,
baring their ideological teeth, claiming that everything is rotten save
themselves.
The diffuse knapweed is a true cynic
because it poisons the soil around it so that nothing else can grow save
itself, eliminating any competition.
It’s called allelopathy which means that a plant can release
chemicals that inhibit the development and growth of neighboring plants. Just as cynics poison a social environment,
so do diffuse knapweeds poison a horticultural environment, eliminating their
competition by toxicity.
One plant can produce 18,000 seeds
which are spread by the wind as its tumbles over the land. A genuinely ugly plant, it is scraggly,
prickly, and unappealing, with no known benefits.
When destroying it, it should be rooted
out before it goes to seed, plant and roots, put into plastic garbage bags, and
dispatched to the garbage can.
Then there is cheat grass (Bromus tectorum), a truly despicable and
aptly named form of vegetation. With its
lateral roots it sucks up moisture from the soil, cheating other vegetation of
moisture. Capable of displacing every
thing else, especially native vegetation, it’s easily combustible, making it a
fire danger. A seedy profligate, it
grows almost anywhere in the most miserable of soils, especially soils that
have been disturbed. The best thing to
do is pull it as soon as it is seen. A
native of Asia Minor , it was imported with
bales of alfalfa and has no known adversaries.
The scotch thistle, diffuse knapweed,
and cheat grass will arrive this spring.
Show them no mercy.
Copyright © Dana Prom Smith 2015
Dana Prom Smith and Freddi Steele edit Gardening Ectetera. His
email address is stpauls@npgcable.com
and
he blogs att http://highcountrygardner.blogpsot.com.