In 2019 I visited Ireland with Patrick, my cousin Jess, and her husband Jon. Jessica planned a great itinerary. She was also our chauffeur for the entirety of the trip, and I need to give her a shoutout for seamlessly driving on the opposite side of the road while navigating endless traffic circles.

Anyway, one of our stops was the obligatory pilgrimage to Blarney Castle to kiss the Blarney Stone. At first I was not down to stand in line and kiss a rock that hundreds, if not thousands, of people had placed their lips on that day. But the group convinced me to stop being a stick in the mud and join them, so that’s what we did. Thankfully, they sanitize the rock after each kiss.

On our way out of the castle we noticed a lovely garden with a sign in front that read:

Turns out the sign described exactly what the garden contained: a whole lot of poisonous plants. Belladonna, hellebore, foxglove, monkshood, and even marijuana were just some of the plants displayed. Many of them were beautiful, with colorful flowers that seemed completely innocuous—like something you might pick for a vase on your dinner table.

The garden demonstrated how plants have historically been used as either medicine or poison depending on the dosage. At the time, it hadn’t even occurred to me that you could intentionally grow these extremely dangerous plants. I had wild poisonous plants in my yard, like pokeweed—which grows deep purple berries on a striking magenta stem—but I had always viewed them as garden pests.

Inspired by that visit, I became interested in growing my own ornamental and educational poison garden. I already had bees, bread, and a few other odd hobbies I will not name here, so a poison garden seemed like the next logical step. With my current garden expansion project underway, I decided this was the year to do it.

Before ordering anything, I needed to make sure I was being responsible. Some poisonous plants are invasive, spread aggressively, or can make soil toxic. One of the most historically notorious toxic plants, poison hemlock, was immediately out of the question because it spreads aggressively and is highly invasive.

I was also very interested in growing a bitter almond tree, which is historically associated with cyanide. However, during my research I learned that many animals are drawn to this plant and can die after eating it. It can also introduce cyanide compounds into the soil. That was a hard no.

So I had to be diligent with my selection, looking for plants that I could easily contain and control. After wrapping up my research, I landed on the following plants, which range from extremely poisonous to mildly taboo:

1. Monkshood (also called Wolfsbane)
2. Belladonna (Deadly Nightshade)
3. Foxglove
4. Baneberry
5. Hellebore
6. Tobacco
7. Wormwood

I’m currently in the process of germinating the plants, and several of them are starting to take off. Monkshood and hellebore unfortunately require a six to nine month cold stratification period, so they won’t be planted until next spring.

Since most of these plants are completely toxic—including the seeds—I made sure to wear gloves while handling everything.

The baneberry arrived as tubers. When the package showed up Patrick asked, “What’s this?”

“My poison plants,” I said.

Of course, he immediately opened the package and touched the tubers, which resulted in some mild skin irritation. Thankfully I caught him before he got too carried away.

The foxglove, wormwood, and tobacco have already begun germinating. I am so excited to start planning the landscape for these plants. I think by mid-season I will have a thriving, thrilling, and beautiful poison garden (and I promise it’s just for education and a hobby—my MIL already formally requested that I don’t kill her son with any of them).

It’s fascinating to grow plants that have medicinal properties in certain amounts, but can also be devastating, life-ending poisons in the wrong dose. It’s a reminder that most things in life depend on balance, or rather, temperance.