Welcoming weeds?
When I first opened my cut flower gardens for charity – and public scrutiny – in 2010, I mentioned on the flyers advertising the day that There Will Be Weeds. I knew too well the local gardening mafia with their expectations of large elegant gardens, kempt lawns, model veg areas and miraculously weed-free borders. I had often enjoyed visiting many beautiful traditional gardens, public and private, where order reigned. But the gardens that spoke loudest to me were always those where at least a little wildness crept in, even if it only a coda to the main symphony. And I only saw the need to remove weeds that actively prevented something I was nurturing from reaching its potential, those that merely inhabited space alongside the flowers were welcome to enjoy it.
Some people who knew my gardens were sceptical when I told them I was going to open for charity, asking how I was ever going to get the place looking up together enough, where was I going to find the time to up the standard. There seemed an implication that the only way to do it was to work flat out for weeks, becoming totally frazzled and neurotic and anxious in order to meet the expectations of beaky garden visitors. Of course I wanted visitors to enjoy their visit, and to feel they had not wasted their entry fee on a dispiriting experience. But I was not going to change the way I presented my gardens to try to conform to some unnecessary and outdated norm. I thought visitors might be genuinely interested to walk round a couple of acres of established cut flowers as this was before the marvellous spread of flower farms throughout the UK today, the idea of small scale farming of mixed flowers for cutting was still a fairly novel idea. To avoid disappointment, and to give potential visitors an idea that all might not be as neat and ordered as they were used to, I flagged up that weeds would very definitely be apparent, mingling with the hundreds of varieties of flowering plants.
It was a lovely day, hundreds of people came. My mother, a very good gardener who died the following year, was delighted to come up for the weekend and sit on the gate making sure everybody paid the entry fee for Macmillan.My daughter and two university friends turned the studio into a popular tea room. Half a dozen stallholders came selling seeds, plants and varied hand made goods. Nobody complained about the weeds, but a few gardeners did ask if I cultivated them deliberately.
I didn’t, because at that stage I didn’t think I knew enough about the benefits of specific weed companions but I hadn’t ruled it out. Years before I had visited the Weleda gardens in the Midlands and was impressed that they grew many of their medicinal plants mixed in with wilder flowers or so-called weeds, encouraging not only the wealth of pollinators but supportive relationships between the plants. Now we know more about ecological planting and the value of weeds, it is definitely worth cultivating some species specifically in order to support other perennials, shrubs and trees. And it is absolutely worth leaving some with different growth habits to encourage the greatest diversity in a garden and promote maximum vitality in the soil.
As a child I’m sure I was far from unique in a dreamy fascination with the idea of what went on beneath the soil beneath our feet. I liked to imagine the networks of tunnels where moles lived, the lay out of rabbit warrens, whether badgers were bullies and dug straight through smaller animals’ homes to make their larger setts, how many rooms there might be in a fox’s den. I could picture lots of different sized runs with the roots of flowers holding the ceilings together and larger thicker roots descending like underground tree trunks to form walls or necessitate diversions. I imagined that the most desirable properties for smaller creatures would be built under spreading buttercups with their light feathering roots, and larger more private animals would dig out their homes to hide between thick dock or burdock roots. I admit I spent hours on my belly idly digging out little channels with a stripped willow stick to find worm roads, or lying in wait beside the opening to a rabbit hole waiting to see them shyly pop their heads out, sniff and emerge. I’m not sure it would pass for entertainment by today’s digital savvy children but it was the world I inhabited.
Thankfully my fascination with what goes on beneath the ground has matured somewhat with the understanding that healthy soil is the clue to the health of all life, and how the shapes and behaviour of plant roots can add to that general health. Researchers and gardeners much more knowledgeable than myself are uncovering relationships between the roots of different plants and other soil organisms, how they may convey information to their neighbours as well as supporting growth and working the soil. There’s so much still to discover about the plant kingdom, but plain old observation can show some obvious ways weeds can help gardeners.
Look and learn was a phrase I was brought up with, it’s not a bad mantra. Look at the way the weeds behave in your garden, look at their flowers and see what, if anything, visits them, many will attract pollinators when there’s not much else around, or may flower happily even on cloudy days when others shut up shop. Check out their root structures to see whether they can coexist happily with their neighbours or whether they interfere with the growth of plants you have chosen to grow. Look at their growth habit, watch the way they spread, it’s pretty easy to gauge quite quickly whether they’re having any negative impact, if they are strangling other plants or preventing more desirable species from flourishing. It may take longer to decide whether they are having a specifically positive impact but if you simply follow the rule that ground that is covered is better than bare soil, it’s a good starting point, and easy to see whether the weeds become too invasive in which case you may need to do some editing.
It’s interesting that what goes around, comes around, but often in an unexpected form. Earlier cultures respected weeds or wildflowers as they gathered them for a multitude of different uses, for food for humans or animals, for medicines, for fibre, for dyes. Nettles, brambles, and willowherbs were used for cordage for centuries, and even as agricultural systems became more developed weeds were still used to stabilise soil and prevent erosion, and to help increase available nutrition in the soil for cultivated crops. Then came chemicals, a new order, and gradual decimation of healthy soils along with a perceived desirable eradication of weeds. Now we realise that it’s important to bring some weeds back as they help restructure and revitalise our soils and many are genuinely good companions for other ornamental and edible plants.
But, and of course there is a but, not all weeds are good, just as not all wildness is desirable Encouraging weeds is never an excuse for neglect, and if you encourage some species you can end up with an overrun garden rather than the aim of a garden where wild plants and cultivated exist happily cheek by jowl. You want weeds that attract pollinators, weeds that provide food for insects, and those with roots that mine the soil for nutrients other plants cannot use or loosen the soil to allow other plants access to air water and nutrition without competing with them. You may want some that form a mat to prevent soil erosion, some with large leaves that act as living mulch, others that stand well in winter to provide homes for useful insects or seeds for birds.
I confess that I often actively enjoy weeding, it is a chance to get down among your plants and really see what’s going on, to get your fingers right into the soil and feel the texture, how wet or dry it is, what little creatures are visible. I enjoy chasing a tangle of roots and seeing how much I can excavate before they snap, competing with myself to see what length of couch grass or bindweed I can excavate in one thread (17metres was my record for one length of couch grass in one garden). I like the satisfaction of pulling up a whole root of hogweed or dock or getting right to the bottom of a bramble stem. There can be genuine satisfaction in the process. But I don’t want to overdo it, for me or for the garden.
You don’t want bindweed. I don’t think you ever want bindweed though I guess it must have an important role for something. I spent years trying to get it out of borders and beds in my last large gardens, and did a reasonable job but when I left the new owner did no gardening for over a year as he was doing major landscaping and house changes. I heard recently that he was concerned by the amount of bindweed in the garden by last autumn. I’m afraid it is not a helpful weed as it is so very hard to get rid of when it takes hold as it is such a brilliantly efficient spreader and unfortunately it twines around other plants and chokes them as it spreads. If you have it romping around your garden, my advice is to take time to address it on its own, ignore all other weeds or tasks you come across when you are trying to tackle it ,and concentrate only on those large or small creamy coloured knobbly roots. A day or two of bindweed obsession will be worth it. There can be something horribly satisfying about buckets or even barrows filled with nothing but those squiggly white worms. Then either leave them in heavy plastic sacks to rot completely, or put them into a large bucket of water and cover it with a lid, leave them to ferment for a month or two then pour all the stinking liquid and thoroughly rotted roots onto your compost heap to return the nutrients to your garden in time.
Although I haven’t yet considered creating a border with flowering weeds as the main stars, something becoming popular among some designers, I happily suggest adding as many wildflowers aka weeds as possible to grassy areas. It’s definitely worth assessing the visual impact of weeds in borders as well as their possible uses to the soil and general diversity. A stand of wild carrot for example, is a wonderful striking addition to any mixed planting and attracts dozens of species of pollinators over a long season and then provides food with its long standing seedheads. A clump of teasels can be statuesque and beloved by birds, a drift of white loosestrife highly desirable. Who can resist cowparsley? My mother considered foxgloves weeds and wouldn’t allow them in her borders but I scatter them around the garden as liberally as I can. One possible problem with designing with weeds is that they tend to be fairly mercurial, they want to do their own thing in their own time, annual weeds won’t reliably selfseed where you want them and it seems somehow counterintuitive to spend hours replanting their progeny in more desirable places. Some perennial weeds may take advantage of resilient growth habits to get going before their more intended companions and crowd them out, you do need to keep an eye on their activity. But you definitely do not need to remove them all. Weeds can be genuinely helpful.
If some plants that you consider weeds annoy you, work out why that is? I got very fed up with ground elder for years until I realised it was a really useful cut flower bridging the white umbellifer gap between cowparsley and ammi, and insects love it, but that wouldn’t work for everyone. It can be useful in a shady spot where little else will grow, but ground elder isn’t a good companion for perennials with fairly shallow roots, it spreads fast and forms a dense mat with roots twining around neighbours. It won’t cause much of an issue around roses or shrubs where the roots won’t compete for nutrients but if it really doesn’t work for you, it is not impossible to dig out.
Buttercup is a divider, most damp gardens with lawns will have creeping buttercup strolling from the grass into surrounding beds, and some people wage constant war against it. My advice would generally be not to worry about it as it doesn’t cause any issue unless it’s among shallow rooting plants, it’s extremely attractive to pollinators and even keeps its little flowers open and inviting on cloudy days, and over many months. It’s good groundcover mulch and is easy to unravel and remove if it is colonising too many neighbouring plants wiuth comparable root systems. As it tends to stay green through winter you can see it before others plants are obvious and weed it out of beds in late winter when the soil is still damp and easy to work. Meadow buttercup is a different creature, I like its tall wiry stems topped with such cheery yellow flowers as an addition to any area of the garden, but it always does best in grass and among grasses so is never a nuisance - except in farmland where it can overwhelm crops.
For decades gardeners were told to exterminate dandelions from their gardens, particularly their lawns. Dozens of different chemical potions devoted solely to dandelion extermination , along with specific tools disgraced garden centre shelves. But dandelions produce nectar and pollen rich flowers over many months, they are staple food plants for bees and many butterflies, finches love their seed heads and they are still important in medicinal compounds. Plus you can eat their leaves, or make wine from their flowers. It now seems extraordinary that eradication was their fate for decades, while their posher relatives cats-ears have always been welcomed.
I can hardly imagine how many hours many gardeners will have spent over years weeding out chickweeds, bittercress , deadnettles or fumitory, herb Robert or pimpernels to name a mere sprinkling. All in the unnecessary quest for perfectly cleaned soil and weed free gardens. Of course some plants can be a nuisance when they spread too much, nettles can be a real nuisance when they take over an area, but they are wonderful wildlife plants, deliuciouys for a nutritious spring soup and usually a sign of a fertile soil so don’t be too quick to try to eradicate them. They are one of my favourite plants to weed out when necessary. A chilly spring day , a large clump of nettles and a garden fork can keep me happy for as long as it takes, it’s so satisfying when you manage to untangle a whole woody tangled underground motorway of yellow roots.
Among other best known and almost universal weeds are docks, generally classified as thugs, but even they have a place. Not just because of their wildlife value, and some medicinal uses, but they do no harm growing alongside many spreading rooted shrubs, or piercing the mats of low spreading plants, and their roots go so deep that they mine for nutrients that other plants can’t take up while tunnelling down into the ground to allow more water to channel in. And they make me smile - I used to struggle to grow all sorts of fancy amaranths for their erect or drooping seed heads, then came one commission when I simply didn’t have any to hand. So I used seeding dock heads. They worked perfectly well. I have since seen them used widely in floristry but I do worry slightly about where people dispose of their dead arrangements as the seeds will remain viable for decades. In the garden the easiest way to control docks, if you don’t have the energy or don’t need to dig them out, is to decapitate their seeding heads as soon as they start to colour, and bag all the seeds to burn later. Never let them go near the compost, and please don’t throw them into garden recycling as most won’t be killed by the heat treatment applied to make municipal compost.
You may discover dozens of other weeds in your garden, good, bad and ugly. They won’t all be useful, they won’t all be beautiful and you won’t want to live with all of them. But most of them will have qualities that will ultimately help rather than hinder you and your garden, and all add to the diversity we crave and need.