I’m going to war with the jumpseed in my yard. When I moved in two years ago, the side yard was overrun by thistle, dandelions, and invasive, weedy things that thrive in moist soil and semi-shade. The giant hostas planted there did just fine in this environment, so I left them alone. The first year I was here I spent hours filling dozens of lawn bags with noxious, invasive plants that have no business in my backyard. But in my choice to remove all the nonnative plants, I made a mistake in leaving the jumpseed. It has since taken over, and it’s even starting to crowd out the giant hostas.
Jumpseed is a native plant, which is why I left it there in the first place. It’s not as pretty as its cousins, smartweed, and knotweed, which thrive in sunnier conditions than jumpseed does. Its flowers attract honeybees, bumblebees, wasps, and ants, who are all good. It also attracts stink bugs and leafhoppers, which are less cool.
It’s called jumpseed because it practically jumps right out of the ground, with alternative leaves splitting into pairs off of a singular stalk. The seeds themselves also jump as far as 10 or 13 feet from the plant when ripe. From that, almost overnight, the seed stalk jumps up, growing tall. It’s a prolific self-seeder, and it’s starting to spread to the front yard.
This labor day weekend I spent a long, sweaty hour on the west side of my house pulling jumpseed. I know I pulled it too late, and it’s going to do it again next year. Immediately after every part of my body remotely exposed to the task was itchy, and jumpseeds had gripped tightly onto my hair. I spent 30 minutes in the shower just washing seeds down the drain. This is another reason jumpseed is such a prolific spreader. It’s seeds have tiny hooks that easily grab onto the hair or fur of traveling wildlife, including me.
I put down a seed mix I got from my brother, who works with a native plant restoration company in central Illinois. That mix includes obedient plant, new England asters, swamp milkweed, rosemallow, bundeflower and indigo
Next spring I will go out there early with my clippers and snip all the little jumpseed leafs I can find before they go to seed. I’ll probably do this for many years to come. If we’re lucky in a few years the seed mix will outcompete the jumpseed. By then the front and back prairies should be established well enough that I’ll be in a beautiful little prairie oasis on my little slice of an urban acre.
