Of all the plants on our Cochise County acreage, the Jatropha macrorhiza (ragged nettlespurge) presented us with the greatest mish-mash of misinformation we’ve ever encountered in the botanical field. When we first saw the plants bouncing up behind our camp trailer after the first monsoon rains of 2009 came, they scared us. I remarked to my wife, “Looks a bit like marijuana, doesn’t it?” She agreed–not that we were qualified to judge; the only thing we knew about the appearance of that plant was the image of five-lobed, serrated leaves available in pictures everywhere.
We certainly didn’t want the feds dropping by to bust us for raising an illegal crop (never mind that it was simply growing wild, not cultivated) so we called a local citizen we knew possessed the expertise to identify pot on the spot. “No,” he chuckled, “relax. That’s not marijuana. It’s jimson weed.”
Turned out he might have known his mary jane, but he most certainly did not know his jimson weed. However, the misidentification was not discovered until a few minutes ago, five years after the mistake was made. I finally got around to snapping a few photos of this year’s batch of mystery weed with the idea of writing about it…but calling up jimson weed on Google Images made it instantly clear our little botanical was nothing of the sort. Neither the flowers nor the leaves resemble jimson weed even a little bit.
It took another couple of hours, digging around on the Net, to pin the shrub down. Ragged nettlespurge photos online looked exactly like the ones I’d taken–except that the flower clusters on ours look a whole lot more robust and vibrant than most of the pics already out there.
So much for testimony fom the “experts”.
In a way, even though our informant was wrong, he was still almost right. Jimson weed is poisonous, though some hardcore get-high addicts do make a tea from the leaves to get high, never mind the long term consequences…and Jatropha macrorhiza
is also poisonous. The poison the plant (ragged nettlespurge) contains is called curcin, apparently a close relative of the well known poison ricin. Neither compound (curcin or ricin) is something you want to ingest.
Ah. The leaves. You may not think they look anything like marijuana leaves, but hey. The leaves do sometimes have five lobes, though many of ours have six or even seven. The literature states they can have “from five to seven” lobes.
These shrubs generally top out around two feet in height on our property, though an occasional monster will make it to almost three feet and quite a few never reach the two foot mark. They seem to like us personally, which is interesting. Most of the plants we’ve seen in the area grow in fairly close proximity to our dwelling, seldom more than 100 feet away. (No doubt the “experts” will poo-poo that, but that’s the way it seems so far.)
Their flowers are without question their most remarkable feature. Five petals, bright pink at the center and fading to almost pure white at the outer tips with brilliant yellow stamens. We see a few single blossoms here and there, but most of them bloom in sociable clusters. Curiously, we’ve seen few bees so far this year, but at least one red and black beetle was photographed with its head happily down in where the nectar grows.
Most of the ragged nettlespurge plant is a dusty green, but the stem portions that lead up to the flowers sport a deep red color.
There was one item in the current identification guides that had me scratching my head for a while. They all list ragged nettlespurge as a perennial–yet ours are very obviously annuals, disappearing completely each winter and popping up again when the July rains hit. What the–?!
Then I happened to stumble across one website that said some shrubs (not necessarily ragged nettlespurge, but whatever) will act as perennials in cooler climates but act as annuals where the climate is warmer and they can grow faster, completing a life cycle in a single season. Curiously, there are several websites offering advice for those who wish to cultivate Jatropha macrorhiza as a landscape item. None of the tips made any sense to me–avoiding direct sunlight, for instance, when our wild specimens all grow dead center under the blazing southern Arizona sun, year in, year out–but they’re out there if your passion is a garden full of poisonous plants with pretty flowers.