Pulling weeds!
By: David Wade Chambers
Tags: Nature, Weeds And Wildflowers, Photography, Gardening, Invasive Species

Ronald, I often run out of superlative adjectives when I try to describe your photos. And your images of the delightful Cosmos sulphureus are outstandingly beautiful. In fact, although I know the plant well, and have grown it in Canada and in Texas (in the white and yellow varieties), I have never seen it more glamorously pictured than you have done here. Particularly the pairing of the orange Cosmos variety with the lovely Buckeye butterfly.

I do however take issue with your definition of the word weed, which is usually defined as a plant growing out of its proper place or where it is not wanted. This is not quite the same meaning as “a plant we have not found a use for”. Whatever may be said about that, your neighbour is totally within his rights to define Cosmos as a weed because he does not wish it to grow in his garden. Equally, Cosmos is not a weed to you because you in fact love having it in your attractive garden beds.

When I was a boy of about ten, my mother explained the meaning of weed by teaching me the song about a lonely little petunia, which was a weed when it found itself in an onion patch, just as the onion would be a weed when in a flower garden. Actually, at that time the song was popularized by such awful performers as Laurence Welk and Arthur Godfrey, but these days I recommend only Imogen Heap’s version from the Six Feet Under soundtrack.

There is however, a concept, related to weeds, with which many people are not so familiar: the idea of the “invasive species” which could be either a plant or an animal and defined as an (alien) species whose establishment and spread threaten ecosystems and habitats with economic or other environmental harm. These invasive species often threaten agricultural crops and livelihoods and sometime entire ecosystems and native environments worldwide.

There is now a global movement to deal with these invasives which, individually and collectively, are usually underestimated as a threat to international wellbeing, especially in the advent of climate change effects which compound the danger in many parts of the world.

The significance of invasive species was brought home to me in the most immediate way in 1983 when our village (with over 800 houses) in Australia was completely destroyed by a huge bushfire. Eighteen months after the fire, my family took a walk in the newly declared National Park which actually adjoins our property.

I was horrified to discover that hundreds of hectares were completely covered with small self-sewn seedlings of the South African plant commonly known as Boneseed (Chrysanthemoides monilifera) which I learned would quickly grow to shrubs two to three meters high. Before the fires, we had walked almost daily on the tracks in this area, known as home to over 100 species of miniature orchids, some of them quite rare.

I was simply infuriated and went along to see the local Park Ranger outraged that his staff had been so neglectful as to let this noxious weed (or invasive species) literally take over this widely appreciated native orchid habitat.

The Ranger looked at me for a moment then remarked that I seemed very knowledgeable about this South African daisybush: where had I learned so much about it? I replied with pride that I had grown it myself in my own garden from a seedling that had been collected on the roadside by a neighbour.

Mature Boneseed

“Ah yes,” he said, “that explains where it came from. I had never previously seen Boneseed in this section of the park.”

Unbelievably, we ourselves were responsible for this environmental catastrophe. Totally chastened I ask if the Rangers would be able to correct the problem quickly. He pointed out that he had zero staff. It was just him looking after many hundreds of hectares in this part of the Park. But he said that if we would organize a volunteer weeding group, he would show us how to pull up the little plants roots and all — in one go.

After that, my wife and 6yo daughter, my father in-law and our guilt ridden neighbour and I spent an hour or two 4 or 5 days per week for nearly two years. We each pulled and collected in back packs around 1,000 seedlings on each and every outing. In the end the total number of weeds destroyed was over one million.

Furthermore, my father in-law organized a Friends of the National Park group which is active to this day over 30 years later, pulling weeds and having picnics. So, I guess something good came out of our unfortunate early garden choices.

Checking with the Invasive Species Compendium of the Centre of Agriculture and Biosciences International (CABI) I see that the exquisite Sulphur Cosmos does suggest a certain degree of caution in relation to planting in Puerto Rico. According to the Compendium, the Mexican Aster as we in Oz call it:

occurs along roadsides, or escaping cultivation as a garden weed. In Puerto Rico, for example, the species is a common plant, found on roadsides and occasionally cultivated in gardens.

Knowing very well your own moral sensitivities from my wide reading in your rewarding Florelegium, I am worried that you may find yourself someday a bit remorseful aboutsome of those glorious orange patches in your garden.