In Defense of Weeds

by Laura Emerson, an Alaskan Master Gardener 


Chickweed overtakes this garden. Photo by Heidi Rader.

Weeds get a
bad rap.  But for the observant gardener,
weeds can be a wonderful resource. 

offer clues to the condition of the soil before you buy that expensive plant
that will not do well where you want it. 

deliver minerals to the vicinity of their growth or to your compost pile or to
your pets and livestock or to you, if you choose to eat them.
have or are reported to have homeopathic benefits.   

So, in
defense of weeds, I offer the following evidence for four plants, chickweed,
dandelions, horsetail, and yarrow. I invite other Master Gardeners to add to this list and information.



This low,
soft, tangly mass of weeds with a shallow root system is pretty innocuous and
easy to weed.  Because it likes areas
that are tilled, cool, and well watered, it tends to grow in or next to my
gardens and hoses.  Its Latin name,
stellaria media, may refer to the tiny white flowers that appear in late summer
and look like tiny stars. Its common name indicates that chickens (and other
birds) like to eat it, although, my chickens far prefer ferns and grass seed
heads growing in the yard at the same time. 
Good news
in the garden:
Chickweed has
a lot of minerals, and since it is such a spindly plant, it returns those to
the soil when it decomposes.  If you
don’t want it where it is growing, compost it. 
It degrades quickly.
Bad news
in the garden:
It grows fast
and will spread through a garden in mid-summer (South Central AK), shading the
ground and holding moisture.  (On the
other hand, it covers areas that other windblown weeds might seed then).
Good news
out of the garden
Chickweed is
high in vitamin C and several other minerals. 
It can be eaten raw, as in salads, or cooked, or made into a tea (2 TBS
to 1 cup boiling water). I don’t care for the taste raw (it is like eating
grass) but I actually like it as a tea (a gentle spicy flavor, perhaps
analogous to fennel).  I have found it
effective in external topical uses. 
Macerated or boiled and strained, I have made a poultice to sooth my
husband’s skin where he has been bitten by insects, as chickweed is supposed to
“pull out’ the infection.   Ewell Gibbons
practically yodeled about all the benefits of this plant.


Even the most
urban, non-gardener recognizes these bright yellow flowers arising out of a xx
of flat, toothy leaves.  In fact, the
name means, “the lion’s tooth.’  In South
Central Alaska, they have two periods of growth and seeding, so they spread
particularly fast.
Good news
in the garden

Dandelions indicate good deep soil, and their strong, deep tap root (up to
three feet long) offers two advantages to its vicinity.  It penetrates hardpan, which less hardy
plants can’t, and brings nutrients like calcium and iron up from those depths
to the surface soil that may have lost it, for example, by erosion or
construction pressure.  The deep root
system also attracts earthworms, which accomplish more good work by further
loosening the packed soil.   Because I know I have a calcium deficiency in
my yard, and know from the shape of the land that erosional factors have long
been at work, I let dandelions grow for two seasons and now just clip the
flowers to reduce further spread but appreciate all the hard work they do!   Because of their deep roots, they do not
compete with neighboring plants, like grass for shallow soil benefits but… 
Bad news
in the garden:
Dandelions, like apples and some other
plants, emit ethylene gas which may inhibit the growth of neighboring plants
and may cause them to flower or fruit sooner (which could be a plus, too). 
Good news
out of the garden
Early dandelion leaves are very tasty.  I tend to cook them in olive oil and garlic
to serve with pasta instead of spinach. 
Like any leafy greens, they cook down quite a bit, so you should collect
more than you may think.  I have never
tried to make dandelion wine, but probably like you, have heard of it.  Apparently a gallon of the wine would require
2-4 quarts of the yellow flowers!  The
Latin name, Taraxacum officinale, may indicate how widely and well it was
regarded as a medicine.  Apparently it
was widely used (particularly root extracts) in many patent remedies,
particularly for liver and kidney stimulation, and a general tonic. 


Good news for
the garden:
indicate a phosphorus deficiency but they, themselves, contain it.  So (a) check which plants you want to grow
there!  (Examples?) and (b) cutting and
mulching those plants in the same setting will reintroduce the phosphorus
needed for a better balanced ecosystem. They grow in moist and usually wooded
areas.  References to “bracken’ in
English novels indicate ferns.  Composted,
ferns help with tree seeding.   
Bad news for
the garden:
Shield and
soldier ferns here grow rapidly.  The
latter grow to a height over 6 feet, shading out most anything beneath, creating high hummocks of root stock.
Good news out
of the garden:
My chickens
LOVE fresh ferns, either on the stalk or brought to them.  The fiddleheads (early growth) are edible by
humans IF COOKED but ferns may be detrimental, eaten raw.  I scuff off the brown scales with my fingers,
rinse under water, and then saute in garlic butter.   Reported homeopathic uses for shield fern
(dryopteris dilatata) include boiling it and then applying it to the eyes or
drinking it as a tea for various internal stomach, intestinal, kidney ailments.
However, some ferns are discouraged for human consumption, certainly raw, I
understand, because they interfere with thiamine consumption.  


Heidi Rader weeds Horsetail from her garden. Photo by Chris Cannon.

(the Latin name is equisetum) is one of the last survivors of huge, ancient trees
that reproduced by spores (like ferns), not seeds.  The stems are hollow and jointed, like a soft
bamboo.  Growing 1-4 feet tall, they are
also called “meadow pines’ because of the side shoot “bristles.’

One source
says they like moist places, another sites gravely/sandy sites with a high
water table.  On my hilly property, I
find them in greatest profusion down low, close to the lake but also numerous
in a higher, drier meadow.   
Good news
in the garden
Horsetail is easy to cut above ground, but it
is difficult to eradicate below ground. The plants contain a high percentage of
silica but touching it doesn’t sting, like nettles, which are also high in
it.  A silica spray made of horsetail and
water is effective against fungus, mildew and various beetles, weevils, and
larvae without harming the desirable plants. 
The spray may also strengthen the plants.  It is a good addition to the compost
pile.  Fresh, my chickens like to nibble
on it.   
Bad news
in the garden:
Where they grow, they form dense
thickets, shading out alternatives you might prefer for ground cover or in the
Good news
out of the garden:
As a medicine, horsetail has been used in
various preparations to stop external bleeding, mouth sores, and to strengthen tissues.


Good news
in the garden:
I like its light,
flat white cyme (like an umbel of tiny flowers) on tall stalks above soft,
ferny leaves that spread and keep out other weeds that want to encroach on the
same sunny segment of yard (like hemp nettle). 
Yarrow flowers throughout the summer in South Central Alaska.  The flowers have a slightly medicinal scent
(up close), so they are said to deter voles and other critters you might not
want near a door and to make nearby plants more insect resistant (but that may
require more than my small group of plants). 
Where I transplanted yarrow in shady spots, it’s growth was unimpressively
spindly and leggy, but in the sunny part of the yard, it has expanded with
shorter and hardier plants.  What I have
read and what I hope is that if it does take over the side yard, cutting it low
will create a soft green and white ground cover.  Sounds nice!
Bad news
in the garden
Yarrow spreads through underground runner
roots.  If you don’t like it, you’ll need
to dig an enlarged area to eradicate it. 
By the end of the second full year, the roots of transplanted ones are
tangled and, in some cases, as deep as a shovel’s spade.
Good news
out of the garden:
Yarrow is
also called “soldier’s woundwort’ because it grew in fields where battles were historically
conducted, and because its leaves were often applied to staunch the blood of
fallen soldiers.  Its Latin name is (a)Achillea (b)
millefolium because (a) Homer reported Achilles using it for this purpose on
the ancient battle fields of Ilium (written around 800 BCE) and because (b) of
its thousands of feathery leaves growing from a central rosette.  I myself have used it for wound healing and
found it more effective than gauze.  For
example, I cut off the tip of my finger with a kitchen madeleine, a bloody
wound.  The gauze pressure worked when
on, but the bleeding recommenced every time I changed the dressing.  The third day, I boiled yarrow leaves,
strained them, and then applied them to the wound, like a little salad, surrounded
by a “crown’ of bandage to keep me from touching the tip inadvertently, and to
give air to the injury.  This worked
well.  No infection, and limited
scarring.  Many other medicinal
attributes are identified for such a well regarded ancient plant.  I have tried drinking its tea and found it
pretty unpalatable, but I have found a poultice of boiled leaves soothing on
insect bites and other skin sores. 

Resources:  The sources of much of the content above are: Alaska’s Wilderness Medicines: Healthful Plants of the Far North, by Eleanor G. Viereck and Carrots love Tomatoes & Roses love Garlic, by Louise Riotte.  

About Heidi Rader

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