Wild flowers on the verge of disaster

May 2004

Bob Davis

Throughout the North-East, as is common across Great Britain, there are endless kilometres of roads, and we seem to be hell bent on creating more. Consequentially there are twice as many kilometres of roadside verge, given that every road has two sides. From the wide, expansive verges of major roads, embankments and cuttings, to the narrower strips alongside country lanes, back roads and byways, there are hectares of ground growing only grass and ‘weeds’. What a waste.

Why can’t we change our attitude towards our roadside verges? It would only take a more enlightened approach by councils, road engineers and planners to create something outstandingly beautiful, of benefit to us all.

Flower-power is the answer; we should create roadside verges brimming with wildflowers, making our roads blooming beautiful. We have lost much of our floral diversity in the countryside. Gone are the meadows full of cowslip (Primula veris), oxeye daisy (Leucanthemum vulgare) and meadow cranesbill (Geranium pratense); missing are the hedgerows that harboured primrose (Primula vulgaris), violet (Viola riviniana) and stitchwort (Stellaria holostea). Where are our verges populated by harebell (Geranium pratense), lady’s bedstraw (Galium verum) and bird’s-foot trefoil? This latter loss is more recent and stems from a crazy belief that we should have neat lawns alongside our roads.

Our native wild flora is part of our heritage, but rarely gets the enthusiastic support of other aspects of Scottish-ness. We should be as proud of our wild plants as we are of our built heritage. Some of the back roads across the NorthEast still boast superb blooms and we must ensure that the little we have does not shrink any further.

Before the onset of the official vandals, the roadside grass cutters, our verges were great places for wildflowers as for the most part they were undisturbed.

The smaller roads that remain undeveloped have been in existence for a very long time – some hardly changing since they were cart tracks, weaving around fields between isolated communities. The verges of these minor roads have had, in some cases, hundreds of years for native flora to become established. They are not fast roads, their narrow, twisting and undulating nature are in-built traffic calmers. They are not constantly subjected to applications of road salt in the winter.

We still have some superb verges, full of the native flowers that have been part of our countryside for ages, wildflowers that help to make Scotland such a beautiful country. There are the really ‘tough guys’ such as cow parsley (Anthriscus sylvestris), plants with deep tap roots that can cope with being chopped off in their prime by flail mowers.

A minor road with its banks clothed in the waving, creamy white flowers of parsley makes a fine show in summer, surely an improvement on endless grass.

An irate neighbour gave vent to frustration last year when she found that the official vandals had been along the road by her house and decimated a superb stand of sweet cicely, sometimes known as Queen Anne Lace. The tall, white, mop-headed flowers had graced the road for years, and she could remember taking a handful of the delicious, aniseed-flavoured green seeds to eat on her way to school. Thankfully sweet cicely is a survivor with deep tap roots and will grow again next year.

Plants hold memories for us. You may recall using cow parsley as a pea-shooter, blowing on a dandelion ‘clock’ to tell the time, or simply pulling the petals off of a daisy; she loves me, she loves me not!

Even the names of these superb blooms have a magic about them that adds to the pleasure they provide. Greater stitchwort, often found on the verges of narrow back-roads, is sometimes called Soldiers’ Buttons, the dashing white flowers reminiscent of the buttons on old-fashioned tunics.

Bird’s-foot trefoil, or bacon and eggs, is low growing and spreading; it has tiny yellow flowers tipped with red – yellow for the egg and red for the bacon. Its name comes from the French, meaning three leaves. Once the flowers have been pollinated, the seed capsules develop into long thin pods that resemble the claws of a small bird.

If you are already pulling on wellies, ready to dash out and create a nature reserve alongside your adopted stretch of highway, you must do it properly to reap the benefit.

Some years ago a well-intentioned person in the old Grampian Region obtained a quantity of wildflower seeds to add floristic diversity to roadside verges. He distributed the packets to schools across Grampian, urging the children to sow the seeds, then sit back and watch the flowers grow. Help ma boab! A great idea that was doomed to failure.

Any seed simply thrown on to a grassy roadside had little chance of germinating. It probably never even got as far as the soil before being eaten or getting stuck in the thick grass sward.

What species were in the packets? Packets of seed often contain many types, including those that do not occur naturally in the area in which they are being sown. Even if your seed were to grow, it could well be chopped off at the knees by grass cutters.

You must ensure that the road verge you wish to improve will not be chomped to pieces by the official vandals. Contact the council and ask them not to cut it, or at least to cut it only once at the back-end when most flowering has passed.

Be selective in the species you are introducing, and ensure that they are native to the North-East. Verges covered with vigorous grass are not suited to low-growing wildflowers, so stick to the fantastic oxeye daisy, meadow cranesbill, lesser knapweed – all medium to tall growers.

The number of plant species able to tolerate salty spray, even when dormant in winter, is limited; speeding traffic sprays roadside verges causing ‘salt scorch’ that can kill plants. But don’t give up on stretches of road that are prone to road salt spray. Coastal plants that can tolerate the seaside will be quite happy alongside a road, given a chance.

Grow plants in containers in the greenhouse or on the kitchen windowsill; small yoghurt pots with a couple of drainage holes in the bottom are ideal. Once large enough, your plant will have a much greater chance of surviving in the verge.

The more sophisticated our society becomes, the further we remove ourselves from the natural world, the very essence of life itself. Let us create a future in which our native flora can flourish.

Bob Davis, lecturer, writer and broadcaster, was born in a country town north of London. In 1968 went to work on a West Highland estate. Joined the Nature Conservancy Council, and managed Forvie National Nature Reserve for 18 years. Now runs his own native tree nursery.

This is an article from the May 2004 edition of Leopard Magazine. To read much more like this every month, subscribe to Leopard Magazine.