Gardening Column, Hamish Martin: ‘The beauty of ragwort lies in what she gives to every other being’

Just the mere mention of Ragwort usually results in a mass frenzied response, with people grabbing their pitch forks, spray packs and any implement they can use to cut, pull or worse still, poison the plant. 

It seems to receive the automatic response, ‘it’s poisonous and will kill horses’. But let’s get a few facts straight about Ragwort; it is toxic, as are most plants in the plant kingdom, it is very bitter and horses and other livestock won’t touch it when it is growing fresh. 

The only real problem is if a field that has Ragwort is cut, dried and then used as haylage and fed to livestock, that way they can’t sense the ragwort and will eat it. But they would still need to eat a good amount over time. 

So, if we can stop the fear mongering over plants, which fuels the disconnection for most people from nature herself, and rather  endeavour to encourage a deep respect based on love and understanding of the facts, then we would live in balance with the very earth we walk on. 

The beauty of ragwort lies in what she gives to every other being. It is one of the richest wild nectar and pollen plants and plays host to countless pollinators, bees and butterflies. In fact, the amazing looking cinnabar moth relies on ragwort as its food source and for its caterpillars. 

Credit: Naomi Harvey

Ragwort is a host plant for numerous insects, with some species entirely dependent on it for survival. Birds like goldfinches and chaffinches love the seeds.

As a gardener it may be a plant to consider; if you have a spot in the garden that has poor soil then ragwort will thrive and as it decomposes, it enriches the soil, enhancing its structure and fertility with valuable organic matter. It also serves as a natural pest deterrent, helping to protect your garden from certain pests.

No better described than in the poem by John Clare himself, who was born in 1793 and is now regarded as the most important poet of the natural world from Britain – he sawthe beauty of this plant:

Ragwort, thou humble flower with tattered leaves

I love to see thee come & litter gold,

What time the summer binds her russet sheaves;

Decking rude spots in beauties manifold,

That without thee were dreary to behold,

Sunburnt and bare– the meadow bank, the baulk

That leads a wagon-way through mellow fields,

Rich with the tints that harvest’s plenty yields,

Browns of all hues; and everywhere I walk

Thy waste of shining blossoms richly shields

The sun tanned sward in splendid hues that burn

So bright & glaring that the very light

Of the rich sunshine doth to paleness turn

& seems but very shadows in thy sight.

Read more Garden stories here.

Subscribe to read the latest issue of Scottish Field.