What were they thinking, those Victorians?
During the 19th century, travelling botanists brought seeds of all kinds back from their exotic travels and often gave them to curious gardeners, who would try out these novelties as fashion-statements. In 1839, Himalayan Balsam was introduced and became Quite The Thing. It was so invasive (yes, we know) that it was great for making a huge and spectacular pink display at the back of the garden.
Then there was a certain Miss Welch, who in 1948 was so enamoured of the plant that she took seeds from her home in Sheffield and scattered them all over the place on the Isle of Wight. Or Mrs Norris of Camberley in Surrey who broadcast seeds far and wide, not only in Surrey, but in Ireland, France and Spain, and offered seeds to anyone who would accept them.
Now, apart from a few bee-keepers who recognise that their bees adore its nectar, nobody has a good word for this wretched plant. It marches along river banks and masses into surrounding woodland. It smothers any other species it meets on its relentless progress. It projects its seeds (800 per plant) by entertainingly popping open its seed pods and projecting them several metres away. It’s a bully.
And bullies have to be stopped in their tracks. All over England and beyond at this time of year you’ll find bands of Army Cadets, boy scouts, environmental groups, country lovers and villagers gathering in their local Himalayan Balsam Problem Spot to do battle with this tyrannical species.
We were part of one such band this morning. Our local nature reserve, High Batts, is practically our backyard. It’s a fantastically diverse small habitat for a whole range of birds, plants and other wildlife, and the River Ure courses through it. To the delight of Himalayan Balsam, which chokes the river banks before trying to spread itself all over the reserve. Today, a gang of us got on our dirtiest clothes, found protective gloves, and marched off to show the stuff we meant business. One of our number strimmed the worst affected areas, and the rest of us pulled out plant after plant after plant by its roots, until our hands were sore and our backs ached. I used to think breaking the flower heads off was enough. But no. These plants are many-headed hydras. Wound them and they’ll simply sprout forth ever stronger.
Army cadets and other volunteers had worked hard before us. Others will need to continue another day. But we did a pretty good job. And we were rewarded with elevenses of pork pie and three kinds of home-made cake, and the sight of those exclusively pink-flowered zones restored to satisfying diversity . Definitely worthwhile then.
Are the roots difficult to pull up? Sounds incredibly tiring – BIG glass of vino this evening! X
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Actually, it was easy-peasy thanks to the rain yesterday. But my back DOES ache. Is it wine o’clock yet? x
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Invasive species are a scourge to the environment. Sometimes man is nature’s worst enemy. Thanks for being an ally and its protector. Peace
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Thank you. And actually, we did have fun. Good company made it easier.
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Good for you! We have enough trouble keeping on top of invasive weeds in the garden, let alone embarking on community programmes. Though (thank heaven and cross fingers) we don’t have the dreaded HB.
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It can only be a matter of time…….
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😦
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I didn’t know about this plant, thank you for the information and well done, you deserve your glass or two of wine this evening 👏🏻😊🍷
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Gosh, I reckon that though you might not have known its name, you most certainly would know the plant. And thanks! Cheers!
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Well done Margaret! A good day’s work done there. The elevenses sounded good – pork pie and *three* types of cake!
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I didn’t indulge in ALL of them!
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It was the choice I marvelled at!
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🙂
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Sounds like the floral version of rabbits!
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Only worse. We do rabbit invasions too, but they don’t choke the landscape 😦
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They just dig mighty holes 🙂
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They certainly do! And breed like – er – rabbits.
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We’re lucky that because most of the rivers and ditches in of neck of the woods are part of the huge fens drainage system the banks are regularly maintained by mechanical dredgers and trimmers so nothing really gets a chance to take hold. And weren’t the Victorians responsible for the rampage of the rhododendrons?
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Indeed they were. And no doubt other things too. But didn’t the Romans introduce the rabbit? Rampant blame culture round here, eh?
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Well done you!
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Thank you! It was fun.
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Well done you ! You pute to shame though haven’t seen it yet in Fulham!
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That’s good to know – but I’ve definitely seen it in London.
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Huh! I have never heard of this, though I see that it’s a problem in Ontario, not too far away. The only balsam I know is a lovely-smelling fir tree but “your” balsam seems to be a type of impatiens. Well, you’re doing important work keeping it at bay–you earned your wine and dessert!
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Well, the Latin name is Impatiens glandulifera, so you’re right. Well done! Yup, we earned our glass of wine 😉
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Tough work but so important to preserving nature’s diversity. We’ve had similar campaigns with invasive species especially where it involves wetlands. Good for you!
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Thank you. But it’s still pretty omnipresent.
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Yes these invaders are pretty hardy plants…
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For us it’s Purple Loosestrife…I’ve watched it march across the continent in my lifetime. It crowds out native species, especially cat tails, which are a main food source for waterfowl.
Yank them up and out!
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I’ve just looked it up. Like the Himalayan balsam, it’s rather attractive…. till you know its downside.
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