Be yarrow, not narrow
Yarrow was on the move, man! Must be spring.
The first thing it did was sprout silently with no fanfare out of cold ground at the end of winter. It had probably been planning this all winter, biding its time. The knowledge or instinct to do this lay in a rhizome named Ruthellen. She had spread herself into three small underground clumps under a cover of snow and, on a sunny spring day, called out, “Morning, neighbor” as I walked by.
How Ruthellen got to her location is a mystery because the yarrow rhizome nearest to that spot is 17 paces toward the north along the garden fence. Ruthellen settled into basically the middle of a thoroughfare toward the mulch pile. Must have been a traveling seed that signed the deed to that location. Yarrow is like that.
Ruthellen alerted me to the possibility of relocating one of her small sprouted communities to the flowerbed by the front deck. She knew I had been filling that bed with perennial herbs mixed with flowers, and she wanted a presence there. Who am I to argue with yarrow?
Suddenly, the small patch of yarrow she recommended climbed onto my trowel. My yarrow-loaded trowel led the way to a spot in front of hollyhocks where that patch of Ruthellen snuggled into its new happy home. Did I mention it was a sunny day?
Yarrow grows wild in fields around the world, and it also spices up a corner of a garden or flowerbed. The green feathery leaves are shorter toward the top of a three-foot stem which branches only near the top. The thin branches bear clusters of tiny flowers. On my hillside, yarrow flowers are white, though there are varieties with yellow, orange or pink flowers. It flowers from June through September.
Yarrow appreciates acidic soil but grows most anywhere. It handles our northwest Arkansas rocky soil well, and left unattended will spread across hill and dale, so you have been warned if you import some. It is not a rude spreader like spearmint, but settlements like Ruthellen’s are prone to urban sprawl. It’s a good idea to divide the clumps every three years or so.
Traces of yarrow were found in a cave in Iraq among 60,000 year-old Neanderthal memorabilia, so knowledge of its benefits predate recorded history.
A chemistry major would enjoy reading the long list of chemical compounds in yarrow. Lots of Top 40s in there. Chemistry majors in previous years have not conducted much formal research on the benefits of yarrow, but maybe they don’t need to be based on the library of anecdotal evidence.
There are reliable reports of seeing cuts heal quickly when cleaned and then anointed with crushed yarrow leaves and flowers. Indigenous Americans used yarrow similarly for rashes, itching or bruises. Cultures around the world have used a yarrow poultice for spider bites or to treat eczema. Yarrow tea has been used traditionally as a sedative to relieve anxiety, for stomach distress or to ease a fever.
The essential oils are at their peak when yarrow begins blooming so that is the best time to harvest. Flowers are more potent than leaves, and both dry easily. Just spread them on a tray and place the tray on the dashboard of a vehicle on a sunny day.
Dried yarrow parts will keep well stored in a jar on a cool, dark, dry shelf in your pantry.
Yarrow is an excellent companion plant in the garden. Its scent deters some insect pests from nearby plants and attracts useful ones such as bees, ladybugs, and predatory wasps. An Asian adage states, “Where yarrow grows, one need not fear wild animals.”
Its presence in a garden bed supposedly improves the health of neighboring plants, and the dried leaves used as mulch add a wonderful texture to the soil.
So, be yarrow, not narrow.