David Hobson
Friday September 30th, 2011
In the garden: Goldenrod . . . so misunderstood
Wild flowers here and in Mexico! I think we have the edge in fall. It’s really just nature’s way of going out with a bang, this annual fall display of colour, but over the last few weeks, driving along country roads, or for that matter, past any vacant lot, other fall colours have been highly visible, yet we take them for granted. I’m talking about the great swaths of late-flowering plants that are a prelude to the big show.
The most obvious is goldenrod and it’s hard to miss when it’s splashed across the countryside. Yes, I suppose many would call it a weed, but so be it, yet it is so misunderstood. Goldenrod (Solidago canadensis) is blamed for causing allergies simply because it’s in bloom at the same time as allergy-causing ragweed, a sneaky plant with an inconspicuous flower that goes completely unnoticed while the poor goldenrod gets the blame.
It is possible that a person could be specifically allergic to goldenrod, but the pollen is sticky and heavy and doesn’t float through the air like ragweed — so unless the pollen is handled or snorted directly, it shouldn’t be a problem for anyone.
Goldenrod does receive the respect it deserves in Nebraska and Kentucky — it’s the state flower in both — and herbalists consider it useful in treating a number of ailments. Even Thomas Edison liked goldenrod. He experimented with the plant in the hope of using it to produce rubber which was in short supply during the Second World War. He had some success, including the breeding of a plant that grew to over three metres high. He did successfully produce rubber, but his process didn’t get much beyond the experimental stage and was ultimately abandoned by the U.S. government after it took over the research.
But I digress. In wonderful contrast to yellow goldenrod is the purple aster, not as prolific, but scattered among it everywhere. It is most likely the New England Aster formerly and formally known as Aster novae-angliae.
Asters underwent a botanical name change in the 1990s and this species is now referred to as Symphyotrichum novae-angliae. This was to distinguish old world plants (aster is the ancient Greek word for star) from our new world genus. I say “most likely” New England aster as I haven’t surveyed every purple patch, and for most people, purple aster is a sufficient description. But if you happen to be looking for a new hobby, try finding and identifying the almost 20 species of aster (oops — Symphyotrichum) growing in Ontario. Most are either whitish or purplish, so good luck.
Sticking their heads above the asters and goldenrods, you will see teasels. These are the brown, bristly seed heads of Dipsacus fullonum. This plant is considered an invasive on this continent, but I kind of like it. They make a nice addition to a flower arrangement, especially a winter display as they last for ages. A related species is known as Fuller’s Teasel, used in the past by the textile industry which made use of the prickly barbs to raise the nap on fabrics. Walk through a teasel patch and it will raise more than your nap — clingy to say the least.
