Until recently I would weed the yard with glee. The weeds, especially those in the lawn, were always greener than their surroundings and thus easy to target. Naturally, their eviction was only temporary. They returned in no time at all, delighted to be back and charged with energy.
That tenacity is one of their greatest strengths. It’s allowed them to flourish since time immemorial. Weeds (the word comes from the Old English weod meaning a plant, grass, or herb) sometimes have names that speak of the function they once had. To give just a few examples, sowthistle (Sonchus oleraceus) was eaten by lactating pigs (and hares, which explains its other name, hare thistle); fat-hen (Chenopodium album) and chickweed (Stellaria media) offered diverse nutrients to chickens; and self-heal (Prunella vulgaris) was used in traditional medicine for healing wounds and throat infections. Many of the weeds provide food not just for animals but also for insects. Several are nourishing for humans as well. For instance, fat-hen has edible leaves and stems, close in taste to spinach; self-heal’s leaves, stems and flowers can be eaten raw as salad or cooked in soups or stews.
I believe that once we know the names of these plants – weeds – and can identify them, our attitude to them changes. We become aware of the fascinating role they’ve played in history. As Robert Macfarlane argues in Lost Words, we need the word for something in order for it to register with us.
Weeds do more than nourish the creatures (humans included) that roam above ground, they also do essential work underground. Perennials with deep root systems feed the soil. Their roots descend to bring up minerals and nutrients. Annuals appear early in the year and protect the top layers of soil. These and other benefits are once more being taken into account.
In fact, after a few centuries as the gardener’s (and farmer’s) enemy number one, weeds have gone from being hated to being tolerated, and most recently they’re even being welcomed. Their importance in the ecosystem is getting an overdue reassessment thanks to environmentalists and botanists. The zoologist Jules Howard believes that “gardens allowed to grow a little wild can be a lifeline for struggling pollinator populations." Britain’s Royal Horticultural Society has elevated the status of the weed to become a garden theme. In 2021 the gold medal at the Royal Horticultural Society show at Tatton Park, Cheshire was awarded to the Weed Thriller garden; in 2023, four out of 12 gardens in the Chelsea flower show contained “weeds such as brambles and thistles to highlight benefits to wildlife." Suddenly weeds became ‘hero’ plants. This year the garden that won best in the show was the forest bathing garden, with cow parsley (Anthriscus sylvestris, also called Queen Anne’s lace) and other woodland wildflowers and weeds.
Of course, not everyone will be convinced by this resurrection of the reputation of weeds. Something I encountered in the Brighouse branch of Richmond Public Library the other day brought that home to me. Cheek by jowl on the shelf were Wild about Weeds, Garden Design with Rebel Plants (2019) by Jack Wallington and Weeds of the Pacific Northwest. 368 Unwanted Plants and How to Control Them (2024) by Mark Turner and Sami Gray.
Many ancient plants – weeds, if you will – are labelled as invasive. Maybe we should try to see the situation also from the plants’ perspective. I try to remember that from the point of view of wildlife – animals as well as plants – we humans are the invasive ones. We continue to encroach on what has always been their territory, not the other way around. Since we’re now able to think of weeds as our hero plants, wouldn’t it be wonderful if weeds could start thinking of us humans as their heroes? All it needs is a bit of restraint and tolerance on our part.
Sabine Eiche is a local writer and art historian with a PhD from Princeton University. She is passionately involved in preserving the environment and protecting nature. Her columns deal with a broad range of topics and often include the history (etymology) of words in order to shed extra light on the subject.
