Stinking Willie

My wife, who enjoyed her long tenure as an elementary art teacher, thinks an ideal career, or at least sideline, would be in naming crayon or paint colors.

Color names need to convey a mood, a sensitivity, as well as hint strongly what part of the color wheel it’s from.

It would be equally fun, it seems to me, to name weeds and wildflowers, garden flowers for that matter.

Joe Pye weed, for instance, must have a story behind it. And Sneezesort? Kiss me over the garden gate?

One of my favorites — the blossoms, as well as the name — is Sweet William. I came to  appreciate why scientists and horticulturalists know it as Dianthus barbatus when I learned Sweet William was really an English name. In Scotland it’s known as Sour Billy or Stinking Willie. So much more descriptive.

The flower was named for Prince William Augustus, Duke of Cumberland, third son of George II, who was no  friend of the Scots after their severe defeat at the Battle of Culloden Moor near Inverness in 1746. The Highlanders and others sought to seat Bonnie Prince Charlie on the British throne. (Scotland and England had the same king, but not the same allegiances.) The House of Stuart backers, Jacobites, as they were known, lost, the Hanoverians won. 

The Highlanders were obliged to give up their farms and estates, turn in their kilts and bagpipes and relinquish their poverty.

So you an see why the pretty flower picked up the lesser nickname.

Joe Pye (Eutrochium purpureum), research tells me, is a variant on Jopi, an American Indian from New England who used it to treat fevers, kidney stones and urinary tract ailments.

Have you ever wondered about the American Indians or early European colonists who experimented with the wrong herbs or weeds, got sicker and died? They aren’t remembered by plant names, are they?

Sneezewort (Achillea ptarmica), mostly found in Europe, was apparently once used to make sneezing powder, the necessity of which eludes me. It has other names including goose tongue, yellow yarrow and fair maid of France.

Kiss me over the garden gate (Persicaria orientalis) with its pinkish flowers is also called princess feather.

So my mind runs wild. The next time I come across an unknown flower/weed species, I’ll name it … well, it will depend on the circumstance, won’t it.

The writer, who frequently hikes off trail, has several colorful alternate names for mountain laurel that he won’t mention here.