My Favourite Weed

Day 280: I have a confession to make. Despite its status as a "weed," I love common Chicory (Cichorium intybus). I would love to have it in the Barren Wasteland and, if this confession is to be fully honest, I have made at least two (possibly three) unsuccessful attempts to introduce it thereby transplanting roots. It would be lovely growing alongside the bright Deptford Pinks and Rose Campion, a startling contrast amid the Rudbeckias which try so hard to dominate the space. I have never thought to gather seed (too obvious an option?), but it does not seem to transplant well. That fact suggests that it would be unlikely to become problematic if it did become established. I guess I'll just have to keep trying.

My Favourite Weed

Day 293: You've probably heard it said that a weed is just a wildflower nobody wants, and while that may hold true for things like dandelions and tansy, sometimes a weed worms its way into your heart despite your best efforts to eradicate it. That's the relationship I have with Cichorium intybus, also known as Chickory or Wild Succory. It is an introduced species, having been brought to North America from Europe, and is seen commonly on waste land where its sturdy roots demonstrate their ability penetrate hard-packed soils with an enviable determination. The stems and foliage are tough and wiry and not particularly attractive, but when it flowers, it paints vacant lots and roadsides with a beautiful, sky-blue brush you cannot help but admire. It is only moderately invasive, unlike the Centaurea complex which would take over the world given half a chance, a factor which (forgive me) I feel tips the balance to the favour of its aesthetic appeal. It's my favourite weed.

Cichorium Intybus, Chicory

Day 304: Cichorium intybus (Chicory) is considered an invasive in Washington and is commonly found in compacted soils such as those found in vacant lots and other waste areas. Its narrow, woody stems may grow to three feet in height. Its roots can be roasted and ground for use as a coffee substitute, although because it is rather bitter, the product is best tempered with some real grounds. For me, however, this plant's attractive sky-blue flowers overshadow its undesirability, and each year when it comes into bloom, my lens is drawn toward them. A closer look reveals petal tips which look as if they were cut out with a faerie's pinking shears, accented by banded and striped stamens. As much as I know I should, I can't bring myself to hate it, invasive or not.

Cichorium Intybus, Chicory

Day 289: As non-native plants go, Chicory (Cichorium intybus) definitely has redeeming merits. Although well within the range of "pastel," its flowers are intensely blue, striking when erupting on its stiff, wiry stems. It grows in waste places, in vacant lots where hard-packed, dry soil supports little else but invasives. Its thick roots can be ground and used as a substitute for coffee, although when used as the sole ingredient, the resultant beverage is rather too bitter for most tastes. The roots are also used to flavour certain ales and stouts. Subspecies also provide edible buds and leaves. That said, as a non-native species, this cheerful, colourful flower is considered a pest in western Washington. May the gods of botany forgive me, I wouldn't mind it "pestering" the Barren Wasteland at all, but my attempts to transplant it have been futile.

My Favourite Invasive

Day 313: Cichorium intybus (common Chicory, also known as Blue Sailors) is considered an invasive weed in Washington, and yes, it will take over vacant lots and other waste areas once it gets a toehold, but its flowers are such a bright and cheerful blue that I just can't help liking it. Of course, many non-native plants got started when they migrated from someone's garden into the natural environment, and then some, without the controls of weeding or predation on them, proliferated to excess and wound up on the "hit list" of invasives. Not all non-natives become invasive, and others do so in varying degrees. We pigeonhole the worst of them into three classes: Class A for for those of especial concern due to their ability to succeed but are not commonly found, Class B for those which are abundant in some areas of the state but absent in others, Class C for those which are widespread. Others are categorized as "regional" or "nuisance" and do not require any measure of control. Cichorium falls into the latter category presently, so at least for now I can enjoy it without guilt.

Late Chicory

Day 4: I had a little time to kill a few days ago and decided to go for a walk through Smallwood Park and along a short section of the Bud Blancher trail just to see...well, lots of things. My Shaggymane spot has overgrown with blackberries, popping the balloon of imagination which had mushroom soup on the night's menu. The trail was empty of Woolly Bears and the river had washed away the last of the caddis-flies' stone "shells." The lichens hadn't seen enough rain to be happy, although they seemed to be trying to muster a small bit of enthusiasm for the cooler temperatures and autumn overall. I had nearly decided to call my walk a bust, if a walk in nature could ever be called a complete waste of time, when I rounded a corner and found the single blue eye of a late-waking Chicory plant winking at me from the brush. That moment of colour drew me into its cheerful glance and transformed my mood into the sudden whimsy of its hue. Who says weeds don't have a bright side?

Chicory, Cichorium Intybus

Day 300: Chicory (Cichorium intybus) is an introduced species in North America and is considered invasive in some areas, it has not achieved a strong hold in western Washington and therefore has avoided being placed on the "hit list" of undesirable aliens. That means I can enjoy the cheer of its sky-blue flowers without any pangs of conscience, although I probably won't invite it into my yard. It can grow to four feet in height and prefers the disturbed, generally poor soils of playgrounds and vacant lots. The root can be roasted and used as a substitute for coffee, although taken straight, it is rather bitter.