Before you go after it hoe, fork and shovel, shouting "Out! Dratted weed," please pause to marvel at the visitor's determination and ingenuity. It's not following some fly-by-night fad. This plant is genetically programmed to SURVIVE: it wouldn't BE here if it were wimpy and ran away at the first sign of rejection! So don't claim a superior position yet -- this confrontation could have major repercussions (No, not "reaper cussings" -- that's not allowed!) Better do some research before you attack.

Sweet-talking won't sway the visitor's determination to move into your cultivated community. In fact, if this invader could talk, it might present a good case for moving in -- and moving your darling hybrids OUT! (Keep it away from lawyers!) Why? There are two likely reasons for its legitimate presence: either it's native to this area or it has gone wild.

If it's a native species, you may not have a leg to stand on (and that makes it difficult to use a shovel!). This plant's ancestors were here, probably for thousands of years, before you came to conquer the untilled ground. Compare that to the relatively few generations since YOUR ancestors came, or the fleeting few years your cultivated plants have been establishing themselves. This ancient species is perfectly suited to the local soil's pH, consistency, and moisture content, and to the local climate -- this "weed" is in harmony with the environment here. It belongs naturally -- and your pampered petunias (sorry!) don't. So...who is REALLY the invader? How's your conscience? Need some time to think about it? Okay.

While you're thinking, consider the other alternative. If it isn't native, it's quite possibly a "gone-wild" plant. These are often the black sheep of their families. Years ago they were accepted and encouraged to share in the garden's day-to-day life. They were even favorites because of their special qualities. Since they were beloved, they went everywhere their people went -- even to the "land of opportunity" called America. This taste of freedom in a less-confining environment soon went to their heads, starting them down the path to notoriety.

In the new environment they had few enemies, and the climate encouraged them to flourish. They were pampered as youngsters in the gardens; then grew so strong and independent they began to sneak out when nobody was looking. Some strayed slowly, slipping their roots, tubers and vines farther and farther away as time passed. Others simply went wild with abandon, drifting along with the wind. They settled wherever they landed, paused for a quick breath, and then drifted off again. They were America's true "flower children" (aha!), flourishing everywhere they touched down. With each new move, a few remained behind. Thus their "tribe" grew and grew -- like weeds!

These were soon viewed as outlaws, feared and hated because they had left the bounds of propriety for a carefree, irresponsible life. They were so little esteemed that they were labeled "WEEDS." Yet their "pedigree" is traceable to the finest of families. Their genealogical roots are as venerable (if not as impressive to you) as any hybrid's. They are the returning prodigals of the plant kingdom, coming back to the garden. They're strong and healthy, waiting for their aristocratic cousins to bite the dust. They insist that you recognize their heritage, their "rights of survivorship," and (oh,oh) they just might break your will! (Maybe YOU need the lawyer?)

Some have already "made good" in the new country. Their tribes grew and prospered, becoming the flower kingdom's "new rich," claiming a wealth of territory. Some are famous coast-to-coast, their names known to all. Who, for instance, can ignore the "common" dandelion (dent de lion or "lion's tooth"), that sunshiny immigrant of French heritage ? It sailed the Atlantic with the earliest European settlers as a beloved garden herb, useful for food, wine, cures and potions. It came, it spread, it conquered. Like Caesar, it is invincible!

The stubborn scotch broom is indebted to an unnamed Vancouver Island gardener for the opportunity to become a well-known Pacific coast celebrity. A relative newcomer, imported (on purpose!) from Britain around 1900, this prolific plant soon covered thousands of Pacific Northwest acres, often occupying vacant land so quickly that native berries and fireweed had no opportunity to get established. ("He who hesitates is lost.") The brilliance of its glowing yellow blooms can light up a grey Northwest day. So, although its odor and lifestyle are rather obnoxious, it does have a bright outlook on life.

Not all immigrants have tarnished reputations. The foxglove plant, although gone-wild in our area, is still socially acceptable. Originally called "folk's glove," or "fairy's glove," in England, it is rather well-mannered, never outstaying its welcome. It usually leaves an area quietly as other species move in and get established. Tall, stately, purple-flowered, it is an important member of the flower kingdom because it is the source of digitalis -- a powerful medical substance. In the Northwest, the gone-wild foxglove is often welcomed in plantings. Some gardeners actually BUY foxglove plants to put in their plots. Oh, speaking of plots -- DON'T eat your foxglove plant! The raw digitalin in the leaves is so strong that you would probably not survive. So it definitely deserves respect!

Other famous immigrants include the "common" morning glory, introduced from the tropical Americas, which has gone wild with abandon at every opportunity. It is ever eager to clamber around, over, under, and through other plants and objects, quickly sending out rootlets to expand its world. It is a true clinging vine. (In just five years, a pile of pruned branches near our church has become a massive mound of morning glory vines!)

The ox-eye daisy (or marguerite) is so pervasive in our area that I was shocked to find that it originally came from Europe. These dainty white-bloomed, yellow-eyed faces are a mainstay in our summer bouquets. These plants have a very cheery disposition and entertain children by providing daisy chains. We have also invited them into our garden, where these delightful leggy guests grow even more robustly than along the roadways.

All "wild" apples (except crab apples) come from the original Eurasian stock. This is one of the few plants purposely propagated in a "gone-wild" sort of way (thanks, Johnny Appleseed!). It's a rather modest plant despite its size, and probably needed that push to get established here. Once started, however, the family has spread quite steadily in its quiet way. I've made jelly and pectin from the tart green fruit of an apple tree near my home -- it has been a generous neighbor, peacefully growing along, creating no nuisances (except, perhaps, for the occasional fermenting windfall or two!).

Unlike the shy apple, the gone-wild blackberries are pushy indeed. The large ones in our area, Himalaya and Evergreen, both came originally from European stock. In a conducive climate such as ours, these "cultivated" berry plants soon took off over the hills with happy abandon (while our little native dewberry still creeps along the ground).
Although the big berries are wonderful for pies, jams, cobblers, and just eating out of hand, those impressively-armored man-high thickets of canes that carry them resemble animals rather than plants! Their sharp thorns reach out claw-like to grab any fabric (or skin) within inches. This makes picking the berries a really WILD experience. (The best berries are ALWAYS an arm's-reach or further into the thicket!) This mischievous behavior is an excellent example of peer influence: one solitary cane can be coped with, but when you get a bunch together they really get out of hand! It's a real pain -- but then they offer their sweet fruit and you just can't stay angry at them.

There are many other gone-wild plants; it would take a book to feature them all. These prodigals are indeed SURVIVORS and some, like foxglove and apple, have gone on to fame and fortune. Others still linger in their outlawed state, burdened by the label "WEED." Some, like morning glory and ox-eye daisy, try to fit in; others, like scotch broom, brazen their way through life. When you add in the native plants, it's amazing what a numerous and diverse population of plants we so casually brand as "weeds."

So now -- when you cultivate and indulge your darling dependent plants and find yourself reacting to a strange plant with "WEED! Kill it!" -- remember: a "weed" is really a healthy, well-adapted plant that happens to be growing where YOU don't want it. No more. No less. Mostly just "Not In My Back Yard."

Instead of commiting immediate herbicide upon it, consider some optional activities. Maybe you could transplant it to a more convivial setting. Or develop a new medicine. Or dye handspun wool. Or weave wreaths and baskets. Or create root sculptures. Or rediscover dandelion wine...or..... (How many uses DID George Washington Carver find for the peanut?)

Think about it. Who knows? You might even give up completely and grow a weed garden!