Thistling

I wanted a wildflower garden…but not this wild.

Our neighbor walked by and observed that there have always been thistles on this property. For decades. Have I considered chemicals?

All summer we have battled these thistles. We tried weed-whacking them. We tried cutting them off at ground level with scissors — exhausting. A gardening expert back in MD told me that this weakens the mother root. We got fed up and just pulled them out — that’s pretty satisfying. We tried a side by side comparison, pulling half the bed, and chopping the other side. It was a prickly draw.

Earlier this summer, I felt victorious if I managed to dig down and pull out nice a long 6-10 inch length of thistle root! But Edward observed that the crafty thistle has evolved to release the upper portion while gripping the soil with a thicker cork screw of residence. Fooled you, sucker.

As I work my way down each deceptively frail looking thistle root… back and back, past the corkscrewing segment that keeps it anchored in the ground…deeper and deeper into the soil, in between the other plant roots, stones, sticks, I am incredibly glad to have a partner in this project. Edward is a lot faster at this. I am more vengeful– I pursue that tap root deeper. After an hour I have only a couple weed-free feet to brag about.

On my knees, deep in soil, I have been thinking of my archaeologist friend Susan. She digs in the dirt for fun. In Ireland mostly. Sounds cold, but at least you get Irish beer.  As I try to trace which tiny root belongs to thistle or another plant, I’m about ready to call in the archaeologist’s trademark tiny brush and pick. This root is heading straight down, like a whale fluking. I will not give up. I want this plant’s lineage. I want its name, rank, and serial number. I’m going to rip out every single blasted speck of root so I never do this again—

But I will probably have to.

Research I’ve done on eradicating thistles is pretty depressing. All sources seem to say the only real way to get it done is dig down and dig sideways finding all those little roots. During my enthusiastic excavation efforts, I lifted up an enormous root. Thinking it was The Root, I chopped it in half with a mighty whack! I pulled out the tail with satisfaction!  Then I learned it was actually the tree root of a friendly winterberry.

I definitely considered the blowtorch option – a flame weeder. Handheld weed eradication! “Chemical free!” But our horticulturalist friend Rich says although tempting, it’s a very bad idea. He tried a flame weeder. It took 2 years for that garden bed to recover. High heat doesn’t do much for the Good Guy soil bacteria, fungi and critters that make gardens grow.

I am not tempted by the Roundup fix, not only because I am no cowboy. Years ago we succumbed to the glyphosate temptation to manage a terrible weed problem. So we added more poison to the ecosystem. And the terrible weed was back in 2 years. Round Up is no solution, just pollution.

The wildflower garden is looking great. Buried under the thistles I uncovered flowering perennials that I had forgotten I put in last year. Now rearranged, with the taller stuff in the back, I can’t wait for spring to see how this garden will look, at least temporarily thistle-free.