Petition to grant hedge parsley honorary native status
Friends. I spent YEARS ripping hedge parsley out of my yard like it personally wronged me. Then, tonight, while on my hands and knees in light rain, grasping frenetically at it as the light waned, I had a thought: what if we just grant it status?
Hear me out:
1. The pollinators LOVE it. You "plant natives for the bees" but won't let a single hedge parsley exist? The bees don't carry a passport. They don't care it came over from Europe before your great-grandparents were born. Decolonize your phenology.
2. THE LOYALTY. Yes, the seeds stick to your socks. Yes, they cling to your dog. But I ask you: what dog lover doesn't want a loyal companion? This plant doesn't ghost you. It commits. My baby came in with 47 burrs in his tail and he has never looked more spiritually fulfilled.
3. Also — we need to talk about the slander. Some people literally call this plant the "tall sock-destroyer." Can you imagine going through life branded by your worst moment? This plant doesn't destroy your socks, it upgrades them. From now on we call it the Forever Friend. Spread the word with the seeds.
4. Have you even LOOKED at it? Delicate little white umbels swaying in the breeze like lace. It's gorgeous. And it grows in the cracked asphalt behind a Wendy's — your fussy little prairie dropseed needs a burn regime, a soil test, and three years of "establishment." Hedge parsley shows up, unprompted, ready to work AND looking stunning. THAT is the ecological resilience that our country needs.
5. It's basically native at this point anyway. It's been here over a century — collected in Missouri by 1908. My family's been in this country less time than that and nobody calls us invasive. At what point does a plant earn citizenship? It pays its dues, it does the pollinator work, it's been here longer than half the states have had paved roads. Naturalized is just native with paperwork issues, like a dreamer. Grant it honorary DACA status. Give it a little certificate. It earned it.
In conclusion: I'm tired of weeding. Embrace the burr. Let it spread. Let it cling. Hedge parsley didn't choose the weed life — the weed life chose it. And now it's choosing us.