In the Weeds

I’ve been enchanted by one of the plants in my garden lately, who wisps her way into this sometimes difficult season with grace and poise. Her name is Persicaria maculosa. She came to me a couple of years ago, I don’t know how or where from, she makes her own way in the world, finds her favorite spots and embues them with charm. 

Every fall I request a dumptruck load of leaves from the city, scooped up from neighbors who don’t know their worth. Leaves make a wonderful mulch for the garden, ever so useful, but do come with a caveat in the form of a complete and dynamic seed bank, encompassing all Eugene has to offer in the form of weeds. 

Fortunately I have not yet met any real demons who did not already exist in my garden when I got here. Bindweed, my most cursed weed, seems to have been born gripping this clay soil in a sadistic lover’s embrace. And buttercup, a distant second, was also here from the beginning. I have probably gained a few new thistles (how can there be so many different kinds!) but they are not very problematic for me. 

On the balance, the weeds that have found their way into my garden since I began leaf treatment have been almost delightful. I say ‘almost’ not to lessen the delightful bit, I have been really and truly delighted by many, and a few have become favorite plants. No, I say ‘almost’ because I have a tendency to turn a benevolent eye towards weeds which are pleasing and I am continually learning the hard way that any weed, not matter how delightful, has developed some epic survival strategies which must not be toyed with. Purslane for example is a traditional edible and quite gorgeous in her full sized glory, but an outrageous vixen and sows absolute thickets of babies when I let her get out of hand in the vegetable beds. 

I am forever testing this boundary of how much I can let loose these favored weeds, with the mostly lovely result that my garden now self-sows many delightful plants. This year I have been quite taken with my Persicaria. Like many weeds, I had seen her growing around the edges and cracks, small and scrabbly, but didn’t really know her true beauty until she got into the rich, moist soil of a garden bed. She has the most graceful form, stems rising up curved and wispy, making you aware of space and air in an unusual way. Her leaves are crisp and clean, each marked with an allusive dark shape which earned her the common name Lady’s Thumbprint. Even her stems are interestingly jointed and sheathed. I admire her je ne sais quoi as she becomes herself throughout the summer, but then she flowers! Each waving stem tipped by a quill of pink and white buds. 

I am considering collecting seeds and sowing her around into more beds. It’s hard to imagine her light form becoming a menace, though like all annual weeds who throw off seed as if their life depends on it, I know I will need to keep her out of my vegetable beds. Apparently she prefers rich, moist, acidic soils which explains why her newly acquired habitat at the side of my blueberry bed has resulted in her most voluptuous growth yet. My garden is generally acidic, but only rich and moist in patches so I’ll have to experiment to see where I can get her to thrive. 

Or maybe I will just leave her to her own devices. That is part of her charm really, the unexpected delight, the autonomy and generosity of wildness.