Poisonous Plants

Poison in the Garden

Ragwort (Senecio jacobea)

      It seems to me that you can overdo it when it comes to safety and poisonous plants. I've heard of people removing a Laburnum tree from the garden because their child may eat the seeds. This ties in with the wrapping- in- cotton- wool philosophy which ignores the learning potential in their own garden. What happens when the child plays in the park or friend's garden where the tree hasn't been taken down? The warnings and explanations which could have been gained at home have been lost. Many of the common garden plants are poisonous, including Rhododendron, Pieris, Hypericum, Euphorbia - the list is endless. And, because a plant is classed as poisonous, doesn't mean you are going to drop dead after a mouthful: apparently yew (Taxus baccata) which is widely known to be toxic, only carries out this promise after you've eaten enough leaves to stuff an average sized sofa. Maybe it should still be seen as dangerous but it isn't in the same class as telling the truth when a woman asks 'does my bum looks big in this?'

      I once suffered from mild poisoning when I'd taken the advice of a 'free wild food' book and tried chickweed, which is recommended as being fine in salads. I'd picked it in the garden and inadvertently included some sun spurge (Euphorbia helioscopia), which looks vaguely similar when you haven't got your glasses on. The Euphorbia had the effect of numbing my mouth and tongue so that I could hardly talk. At this point my wife, always sympathetic, said it was a good thing because it shut me up. There's a similar effect accompanying the consumption of the houseplant known as dumb cane (Dieffenbachia spp), the sap swells the tongue and justifies the common name. This is well known, but I pride myself in having personally carried out the ground-breaking research on sun spurge.

Choosey diner

      On the whole, animals seem to have an instinct which prevents them eating plants which may be harmful (although goats seem to be an exception to this). It's widely known that horses are poisoned by eating ragwort (Senecio jacobea) but they rarely eat the growing plant - only that which has been cut and lies unrecognised when mixed with  hay.

      Cows seem to be victims of other aspects of danger in plants: I was fishing on the River Dane opposite a fifteen foot high clay bank, when a cow appeared at the top of it and peered longingly at a patch of grass and wildflowers growing on a narrow ledge some distance below the lip. It disappeared and I thought it had decided to make do with the thirty acres of grass in its field, but a couple of minutes later it came back and repeated its thoughtful perusal. Then, overcome with longing, it stepped gingerly onto a bulge of eroding bank with the obvious intention of working its way along the face to where dinner beckoned. It got further than I'd have thought possible before the clay suddenly crumbled.

      I've always thought cows' faces were pretty mild and expressionless, but this one proved the exception as widening  eyes and gaping mouth conveyed a definite impression of surprise and horror. The accompanying bellow completed the bovine version of OH SHIT! before cow and large section of banking obeyed gravity and plunged into the river.

      I don't know how much a cow weighs, but it certainly displaces enough water to give Archimedes a 'eureka' moment. The resulting tsuname headed my way as I sat peacefully fishing and I sprang into action too late to stop my ham butties and half my tackle  disappearing into the torrent.

      I didn't catch anything after that.

Spring Interest

Mud, Glorious Mud.

Early flowering, sweetly scented evergreen, Daphne odora

      It's probable that, if you look around, the British are no dafter than other nations and my youngest son watches some stuff on TV which makes the Japanese fairly strong contenders for masochistic world champs. We, however, are less elaborate in our tortures and don't need the sophisticated endurance courses they dream up. Take the Maldon Mud Race, for example. All that needs is a river and a crowd of nutters: the Mud Race started way back in 1973 and initially was a race across the river at low tide to reach a barrel of beer, consume a pint, then return. I suppose there was some logic in the free pint bit, but eventually there were so many people doing it that a barrel was not enough and the impracticality of building a brewery on the site ruled out that aspect. Now they just run through mud.

      The runners wait for low tide when the remaining depth of water is only two or three feet, then they swarm down the muddy banks, a bewildering cross-section of people ranging from the competitive types in running gear to the usual self-acknowledged no-hopers dressed as nuns, convicts, Superman, Father Christmas, the hero of the 'Where's Wally?' books, and all the other outfits usually reserved for marathons. If you Google it, you'll even see one bloke doing it completely naked, his dignity preserved by a thick layer of mud. Actually the layer may not be that thick - the cold water having frozen his assets.

      And 'running' isn't really the right term for what goes on here. Although the first few yards may qualify, the high stepping ballet which develops is more reminiscent of someone going barefoot through upturned drawing pins. Then there's the wildebeest stage, where they bounce their way through the water like a David Attenburough herd trying to avoid crocodiles, followed by the snake slither up the other side where their colouring uniformly becomes that of Al Jolson in 'The Jazz Singer'. I often wonder what happens to the wildlife in the river as the herd comes trampling through. Presumably a lot of cod become flounders or other species of flatfish.

      Showers are rigged up for when the survivors emerge and the next stage is to make their way to the pub, where the lack of a pint on the other bank is made up for with interest. All that then remains is to head for the Glastonbury Music Festival to do the training for the next run.

      See what I mean about the British and nutters?

Euphorbia characias wulfenii

      And as the mud of our glorious winter recedes, the denizens of the garden begin to reassert themselves: the frogs are croaking their sexy chorus, Delphiniums are pushing their heads out, ready to renew battle with slugs (protect them with slug barriers at this stage and subsequent older growth seems to be off the menu - leave them to their own devices though and all that will be left is smiling, fat, slugs ); rhubarb is shining bright green and red, unfazed but maybe indignant after having had the fence fallen on it in the hurricane; nasturtiums clamber happily up the south-facing wall trellis, having deferred to the mild winter by simply going a darker green and slowing down a bit, when normally they disappear altogether; hardy fuchsias, which usually stay in bed a lot later, are donning foliage, promising a longer season than usual and the ubiquitous wood spurge (Euphorbia amygdaloides robbiae) is rather frighteningly appearing everywhere, subtending Daphne odora blooms, numerous daffodils and other early flowering bulbs.

Resilient nasturtiums (Tropaeolum)

      A larger, more imposing Euphorbia is growing by the front gate and has been in full flower for a few weeks now: E. characias 'Wulfenii' displays some of the spreading habits of E.robbiae but seems to do it more by effective seed dispersal than runners. It has appeared next to the wall in the street and although rather pleasingly breaking up the hard outline of the wall has more literally started doing the same thing to the pavement and it has had to go. Originating in Portugal and western Mediterranean area, it is a statuesque evergreen shrub intensely disliked by some (wife) and loved by others (me) and the foliage offers pleasing interest even when the flowers give up the ghost. Rather surprisingly closely related to poinsettia (Euphorbia pulcherrima), it bleeds the white sap (called 'latex') common to the spurges and, as well as being poisonous, this can cause inflammation and blisters, so is best treated with respect. I once accidentally tested the poisonous aspect, to a limited degree, by getting some sun spurge (Euphorbia helioscopia) mixed up with chickweed (Stellaria media) which I was using in a salad. It was extremely uncomfortable, causing my tongue to swell up. On the positive side, my wife said, at least it shut me up.

Rhubarb which first appeared in mid February