As many of my readers know, I grew up on a farm in northeastern Wisconsin. And as many people who grew up on farms know, a big part of farming is a battle against weeds. In Wisconsin, there are probably six or seven dozen indigenous varieties of weeds, and I’m pretty sure most of them grew on our farm. At least that’s how it seemed.
Dad was on constant alert for the encroachment of weeds in our fields. Ignorant as I was to their deleterious effects on the crops, I thought some of the weeds were kind of pretty. A field of yellow wild mustard is equally as beautiful as a field of yellow daffodils, isn’t it? Or even a hill covered in bright yellow dandelions? But to Dad, they were weeds — and we had to get rid of them.
“Weed” is an interesting word because it has no set definition, other than being a plant that we do not want. According to an online dictionary, “a weed is a wild plant growing where it is not wanted and in competition with cultivated plants.” So a weed in one place could be a useful and desirable plant in another, right?
For example, the thistle (high on Dad’s Most Wanted list) has been the national emblem of Scotland since the reign of Alexander III (1249–1286) and was used on silver coins issued by James III in 1470. It is the symbol of the Order of the Thistle, a high chivalric order of Scotland. The thistle (like the burr) is an ancient Celtic symbol of nobility of character as well as of birth, so in Scotland, a thistle is not a weed. Look closely at the blossom on a thistle and I think you’ll agree that it is quite beautiful. Sometimes we find beauty where it is least expected.
Besides, many “weeds” have medicinal qualities. Remember Friar Laurence’s soliloquy in “Romeo an Juliet”? The friar is out gathering weeds and herbs when Romeo comes to him for advice: “…I must upfill this osier cage of ours/With baleful weeds and precious-juicèd flowers./…Oh, mickle is the powerful grace that lies/In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities./For naught so vile that on the earth doth live/But to the earth some special good doth give. Within the infant rind of this small flower/Poison hath residence and medicine power.”
Friar Laurence was right; lots of common weeds have medicinal uses: burdock, chicory, dandelions, red nettles, milkweed, purslane, plantain, etc. And yet, we usually treat them as unwelcome guests in our yards and gardens.
The novelist L.F. Young wrote: “When life is not coming up roses, look to the weeds and find the beauty hidden within them.” And L.M. Montgomery once wrote: “When weeds go to heaven, I suppose they will be flowers.”
Ragweeds, pigweeds (sometimes called lamb’s quarters), sheep sorrel and plantain: Dad despised them all because he knew that most of them contained elements that were noxious to our animals. So we battled them with a ferocity that equaled their tenacity. And we did it by hand; no poisonous chemicals could be used on our farm. Put on a pair of gloves and go out there and pull them up by the roots.
Dad didn’t like weeds, so I grew up not liking weeds, despite the soft spot I had in my heart for them and despite the beauty I saw in them. So, like almost everyone else, I dutifully battle the dandelions and creeping charlie in my yard. What’re you gonna do?
