By Mike Raley

Decades ago on fall trips to Topsail Island, I began to notice what I thought was a white blooming shrub here and there along the roadways. I thought this rather unusual, since few native plants along our coast produce blooms in October and November. Back in the 80’s, I probably wouldn’t have paid any attention to the white masses of seeds on the Saltbush or Baccharis halimifolia, but my first Weekend Gardener co-host, Erv Evans, and the gentleman who hired me in 1975, Charles Stegall, both urged me to pay attention to the world around me, especially plants. By the way, the saltbush is also colloquially known as consumption weed, coyote bush, high-tide bush, silverling, groundsel and sea myrtle. Snappy names, huh? Well, its growth habits and means of reproduction are even more irritating.

Yes, the saltbush is native, but the North Carolina Native Plant Society considers this provocative plant invasive. It is actually a member of the aster family. Farmers won’t like the idea that it resembles the weed lambsquarters. It was once only native to the coast, but now you can find it through eastern North Carolina and the Piedmont region. There are other native coastal plants that have made their way west like wax myrtle, beautyberry and yaupon holly. But the saltbush is insidious in the way it takes over growing space for plants that are native to the Piedmont. Some say it poisons the soil by releasing an oil that acts as a pre-emergent. That may be a bit dramatic, but I’m no scientist, just a disc jockey.

In recent years, I first noticed the saltbush along highway 17, then the 140 bypass near Wilmington, then I-40 and now everywhere along roadsides of the Triangle and beyond. The seeds are dispersed in the fall. The seeds blow into landscapes in the winter and grow in heat, cold, shade, sun, wet conditions, or drought. It grows in poor soils. The female saltbush needs a male to produce fruit. Horticulturists consider this plant to be weedy, but I suppose beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder.

The saltbush is usually happy in salt air near marshy areas and in sandy soil, but spreads very quickly and will establish along roadsides, clearcut areas, and prairies. I’ve seen these plants covering the grassy slopes on overpasses on the 540 toll road. It establishes in areas and can choke out native plants. Botanists and horticulturists tell me the saltbush doesn’t seem to have any natural predators around the central part of the state, is disease resistant, and disrupts the plant life balance. Scientists aren’t sure why the baccharis made its way to the Piedmont region, but it is certainly well established. I have even seen one thriving in my neighborhood. I even have a neighbor who loves the plant, and when it is covered in seeds, she clips off a few stalks for a table bouquet.

It is occasionally found in nurseries for the flowers and foliage, but I think you could make a better choice. I’m not warming up to this interloping species of plant for any reason. Ultimately, there seems to be no way to tame the saltbush. As my Uncle Russell used to say, “You take your chances and pay the penalty.”