Native plants for autum colour
November 2022
OK, I’m coming out as a weed lover!
I’m interested in something that I’ve come to term ‘natural gardening'. This, in its essence, is the use of wild plants and where possible, natural systems in the garden. Looking at the landscape as I travel through it with my garden designer's cap on, I’m keen to see what interest I can bring into the garden and just like any other garden at this time of year the changing colour of the leaves can lend great interest.
I find it fascinating that all the colours that reveal themselves in autumn are hidden there all the time just waiting to have their brief moment before they fall.
In the language of my schoolboy biology and greatly simplified, I think it goes something like this: the leaf's primary function is photosynthesis - capturing energy from sunlight to convert water from the soil into oxygen, and carbon dioxide from the air into sugars, producing oxygen as a byproduct.
In order to do this the plant wants to use all the light energy from the sun that it can. This energy is held in various wavelengths and their subsequent colours, the colours of the rainbow as we see them. What we are seeing as green when we see a leaf is the reflected light from that object that has absorbed its opposite colour, In this case the tree through its chlorophyll pigments absorbs red light most efficiently. In short, the colour an object appears to be is the colour complementary to the one it most strongly absorbs.
Other pigments such as carotene and xanthophylls absorb only blue/green light and reflect an orange/yellow colour. In autumn as the process of photosynthesis slows down, and the leaves of a deciduous tree turn yellow/orange in colour, they simply lose their chlorophyll which had previously masked the other pigments. The red that we sometimes see in a leaf comes from a pigment called anthocyanin but this does not participate in photosynthesis.
I digress…
With their yellow/orange autumn leaves, I’m confident that the wild trees, beech Fagus sylvatica, ash Fraxinus excelsior, white willow Salix alba pussy willow Salix caprea and field maple Acer campestre could find a home in most gardens, space permitting. Should we want a touch of red, sycamore Acer pseudoplatanus, wild cherry Prunus avium and bird cherry Prunus padus or hawthorn Crataegus monogyna give a good display.
Elder Sambucus nigra goes through a lovely range of pink to deep red this time of year. And for a double whammy of colour and berries, a personal favourite of mine, the spindleberry Euonymus europaeus really does come into its own in autumn.
There are a few wild herbaceous perennials that could add some subtle colour into the garden now, amongst them bracken Pteridium aquilinum that goes through yellow and deep orange, hairy willowherb Epilobium and even dock Rumex obtusifolius turns the most remarkable colours as it goes into dormancy.
Finally, and I would imagine controversially, Bramble is not an easy plant to contend with in the garden but we all love a blackberry and what an amazing range of autumn colour.
Understandably, gardening to include plants like these many of which are considered weeds does take a slightly different outlook but there is a wealth of riches in our wild flora that I find challenging and compelling and I've always got an excuse for not having done the weeding!
Whether we want these plants in our gardens or not, they’re a pleasure to look at in the countryside at the moment.
NB, remember that it’s illegal to dig up any wild plant and always make double sure that the plant is what you think it is if you’re going to eat it.
Ground elder, buttercup and marsh thistle
June 2022
What did the Romans ever do for us I hear you ask! Roads, sanitation, underfloor heating, yes, yes, but no one ever mentions ground elder Aegopodium podagraria, they kept that one quiet!
The Romans brought and cultivated ground elder as a pot herb for culinary and medical purposes, being used mainly for gout (one of its common names being goutwort) and to eat as a vegetable. The use of ground elder carried on through the ages with the Anglo-Saxons using it to clarify beer, so not all bad then. The plant, seemingly bent on liberation, soon escaped its confinement and, as shown some time later in the 1962 Atlas of the British Flora, is recorded as covering pretty much every part of the British Isles.
Ground elder, which spreads by creeping roots (rhizomes) and also by seed, can be found mainly (as the Biological Records Center tells us) in a wide variety of disturbed habitats, especially hedgerows, road verges, churchyards and also neglected gardens, no offense taken!
As you might have noticed by now, I’ve decided to talk about some plants that we could easily see in our garden (which some of us will be happier about than others) as well as when we’re out and about.
Next up, and looking amazing at the moment in my garden if I do say so myself (though I’m not sure that it’s anything to be proud of), is the creeping buttercup Ranunculus repens. I’ve fully embraced this native plant's creeping habit which it manages by sending out stolons, overground runners that then root at points along its length as strawberries do.
The name Ranunculus comes from the latin rana meaning frog, while culus indicates the diminutive form, so ‘little frog’. Saying goes that it’s named that because the buttercup is often found in damp places, as are frogs, but that takes a bit of a leap of the imagination. Maybe Carl Linnaeus, the 18th century Swedish botanist/zoologist who basically invented taxonomy was having an off day. Repens by the way, refers to the plant's habit of creeping.
The creeping buttercup is one of only a couple of buttercup species to host Hydrothassa glabra, a sweet little beetle 3 or 4mm in size and coloured dark metallic blue and orange.
Lastly the marsh thistle Cirsium palustre. Apparently the word thistle comes from the Old English thist-ley meaning ‘to prick’ and as the name of this species would suggest, this thistle grows mostly on damp ground and reaches approximately 1.5m tall. It’s a biennial so flowers in the second year then dies. The main reason that I wanted to talk about this thistle, besides it growing in my garden as yet another experiment, is that it is a super pollinator attracting bees, flies, moths, butterflies and beetles. It was rated to have the most nectar production (nectar per unit cover per year) by a project supported by the UK Insect Pollinators Initiative. Also in the top five were the grey willow Salix cinerea, common knapweed Centaurea nigra, ball heather Erica cinerea and common comfrey Symphytum officinale. What’s more, the marsh thistle can be used to eat. I’ve not tried this but I read that you can strip the plant down to its stem, peel this and then dip it in sugar a little like rhubarb…No no, after you! You might have to speak to Nicky, our local forager about this.
NB, remember that it’s illegal to dig up any wild plant and always make double sure that the plant is what you think it is if you’re going to eat it.
Bluebell, Wood sorrel and muskroot
May 2022
If, as the song goes, you go down to the woods today, you’re sure of a big surprise…well if that surprise is that you fall over, then you may be lucky enough to end up at eye level with some of the plants that I’ve been checking out this month.
All of these plants can be found without too much difficulty in either (and almost certainly both) the woods at the end of Pottle street and up towards Heavens Gate.
The first to catch my eye were the delicate lilac veined, five petaled flowers of wood sorrel Oxalis acetosella. This plant, flowering around Easter time, is known in much of Europe as ‘alleluia’. It has almost clover-like three lobed leaves that apparently act like a weathervane, folding up before and during rain and when it gets dark. Well, one of those might be useful, I guess the others you could work out for yourself. The leaves have a lemony flavour but should be consumed in moderation. Wood sorrel was in the past used for treating scurvy due to its high vitamin C content.
You’ll need to stay very close to the woodland floor to see the tiny flower of ivy-leaved speedwell Veronica hederifolia. This plant is an archaeophyte apparently (a new word for me) meaning it’s non native but introduced in ‘ancient’ times, so some time before the 15th century (pre early modern period). The name describes the leaves Ivy Hedera and leaf folia.
If you still can’t get up, you’re in luck because you’ll be face to face, as it were, with muskroot Adoxa moscahatellina, also known as moschatel or Good Friday plant (as it nearly always comes into flower by the beginning of April) This plant’s not showy but really subtly beautiful when you look closely. I guess when it was given its genus name they had this in mind as Adoxa means ‘without glory’. The other (specific) part of its name moschatellina means musk, referring to the musky smell it can emit when damp. Another of its common names is Town hall clock, so called because of the flowers that sit at the top of the stalk, four forming the (clock) faces of a cube and the fifth above.
Having eventually got to our feet and not needing to be quite so close to the floor we can enjoy the wood anemone Anemone nemorosa. The sight of this lovely, early spring, white flower always makes me happy. It is a good indicator of ancient woodlands or hedges as its seed is rarely fertile and therefore relies on its root system to spread, which it does at a pace of approximately six feet each hundred years.
Last but by no means least! I can’t not mention the bluebell Hyacinthoides non-scripta which is looking great, and not to be mistaken for the invasive, non-native Spanish bluebell Hyacinthoides hispanica, the former being smaller and a more intensely coloured deep blue/purple; is stronger scented and all the flowers grow on one side of the distinctly drooping stem. If you want some bluebells in your garden these are the ones to buy or gather seed from.
Have fun in the woods and please watch your step!
NB, remember that it’s illegal to dig up any wild plant and always make double sure that the plant is what you think it is if you’re going to eat it.
Primroses, ramsons and nettles
April 2022
On my dog strolls, I’ve been interested to see what wild plants are emerging. Especially as spring finds its feet, not before time as far as I’m concerned! It has to be the primrose Primula vulgaris that are front and centre through March and continue strong into April. Unsurprisingly I guess with the name prima rosa, or first flower of the year (although that’s not strictly true as the beautiful snowdrops on February’s cover show). But I can’t let those little yellow faces go unmentioned, not least because it’s Primrose Day on the 19th April, or so Richard Maybe tells us in ‘Flora Botanica’ with the botanist Sir George Birdwood apparently suggesting this after Benjamin Disraeli’s death in 1881 as the former Prime Minister had such an admiration of the flower.
I wonder if I’ve spotted a couple of the similar plant oxlips Primula elatior, which would be exciting as they are a vulnerable, near-threatened species usually confined to the area where Suffolk, Essex and Cambridgeshire meet, but I’m not entirely convinced that these are not an ornamental escapee from a garden, perhaps a local botanist can put me straight on this?
The ramsons or wild garlic Allium ursinum are getting well into leaf in the woods in the north of the village above Newbury and there's a little to be found on the road to Maiden Bradley. We like to make a pesto out of the wild garlic, freezing this in an ice cube tray is a great way to get a portion that you can easily throw into pasta or mix into a dressing for a salad, but this year I’m going to make some green garlic butter by simply beating the cleaned and shredded leaves into butter for a fresh subtle alternative to traditional garlic butter.
I’ve had a couple of passes over the nettles Urtica dioica in the garden already, picking the tips, blanching and freezing for later use in anything that we would use spinach in, I’m pretty fond of a smoothie made with any berries, fresh or frozen, a handful of greens, usually spinach but nettles in this case, milk and water then blend. I’ve also used the cooking water as a hair tonic so if you see me around the village with green hair don’t be alarmed!
According to the Natural History Museum our stinging little friends have been reported to have over 100 different insect species feeding on them alone and they are host to the red admiral Vanessa atalanta (I think I may have gone to school with her) small tortoiseshell Aglais urticae and peacock Aglais io butterflies as well as moths such as the Burnished Brass Diachrysia chrysitis, the angle shades Phlogophora meticulosa and the ruby tiger Phragmatobia fuliginosa to name just a few of the more charismatic species. And to name a few of the less charismatic species; the brilliantly named golden-bloomed grey longhorn beetle Agapanthia villosoviridescens, and Parethelcus pollinarius no funny common name I’m afraid but this little guy’s only source of food is the roots of stinging nettles, look him up, I mean if a weevil can be cute…Old longhorn’s a good looking chap too.
Talking about early flowering wild plants, another that flowered alongside the early primroses but who’s flower has now gone over is the winter heliotrope Petasites fragrans, this has a great scent and maybe presents a food supply for early pollinators, though this is an extremely invasive non-native species. Being new to the village I’m not sure about the pace of its spread where I see it on the bank along from the island, but I’m surprised, on my travels slightly further afield how quickly this is populating ground.
Just to see everything bursting into life at the moment is very exciting and I look forward to more walks and observations, maybe with a bit more sun, over the next month.
NB, remember that it’s illegal to dig up any wild plant and always make double sure that the plant is what you think it is if you’re going to eat it.