Everyone has their own favourite spring flowers and dandelions are one of mine. As soon as the first flowers appear on the croft and the roadside verge, I know it is time to start to look for bumblebees and hoverflies. Flowering early in the year, they are a vital source of nectar for many early-emerging pollinators whilst other flowers are still developing. Throughout the summer their flowers provide sustenance to 50 species of insects, including bees, hoverflies, beetles and butterflies, whilst the leaves and stems provide food for an impressive number of moth larvae.
However, our relationship with plants is often complex and in the case of the dandelion multi-faceted. Dandelions could probably be defined as the marmite of the plant world. Opinion is definitely divided: the scourge of the gardener and the greenkeeper, lauded by foragers and the French as a culinary delight, a hero to the entomologist and plant ecologists, but on which side of the fence do the botanists sit? Ask a plant recorder and they will probably tell you they are all Taraxacum offinale agg. and consider that identification beyond this level is dabbling in the dark arts. However, the handful of experts (taraxacologists) who have the patience and skills to identify the 239 microspecies found in the UK (so far) have opened-up an ecological and genetic puzzle of mind-numbing complexity. If your curiosity should ever get the better of you, naturally there is a Facebook group and numerous YouTube videos to entice you into the strange world of taraxacology.
The multitude of common names for dandelion reflects our social and cultural relationship with this plant and the richness of our language. The word dandelion is late Middle English in origin, derived from the French dent-de-lion, ‘lion’s tooth’ (because of the jagged shape of the leaves). Some of the other common names, pee-in-the bed or pissabed refer to the plant’s diuretic properties. However, I was intrigued by some of the Scottish names: witch gowan, doon-head clock, bumming pipe – the latter is not as rude as it sounds as bum is the humming sound made by bees and pipe refers to the hollow stem of the plant. In contrast, the plant’s scientific name is more prosaic: Taraxacum is probably from the Arabic word ‘tarakhshagog’ meaning bitter herb and officinale refers to its medicinal, herbal or culinary use.
‘Leontoden Taraxacum’ or ‘Dandelion’ by William Kilburn
from Curtis’s Flora Londinensis. 1777″
This profusion of names is also associated with its importance as a food plant with medicinal properties. From the root to the green leaves and the flowers, the whole of the plant is edible. The high nutritional content of the leaves and slight bitterness makes them a popular ingredient in salads whilst the flowers can be used for making syrups and wine. In the Middle Ages dandelion and burdock roots were fermented to make a type of mead, but now it is more commonly used to make carbonated soft drinks, cordials or beer.
As a medicinal herb, dandelions are widely used in traditional medicine, folk remedies, and alternative therapies to treat a wide range of diseases. In Chinese medicine, the dandelion was first recorded in Tang Bencao, in the 7th century and later made a regular appearance in European herbals. More recently the wide range of bioactive compounds found in dandelions have not escaped the attention of the modern pharmaceutical industry
This is all very interesting, but it will not deter the lovers of manicured, bright green lawns for seeking to exterminate any dandelion that has the audacity to invade their precious turf. However, Plantlife’s “No Mow May” might encourage some of the more wildlife friendly gardeners to put away the mower for a month, to let the weeds bloom in the grass and provide sustenance to a community of pollinating insects. So let the dandelions bloom, along with the buttercups and daisies, and listen to the buzz of the bees rather than the sound of the mower.
This post is based on an article published in Am Pàipear in May 2024