Will the real viper’s bugloss please stand up?

Or at least make yourself known from a confusing cadre of same-named species. There are three known organisms with this peculiar name, I’ve discovered.   

The strange calling card serves as nomenclature for two distinctly different moths, one on each side of the Atlantic, though you aren’t likely to see either of them on-Island yet. Hadena irregularis hails from Europe and maintains a presence there according to some sources — even if Wikipedia says it is extinct. The other moth is ethmia bipunctella, which is found in our state but with only two records, neither of which is on the Vineyard. 

The third viper’s bugloss I found can be observed and found locally. Last week, a plant of this name was observed blooming in a Chilmark cemetery. Echium vulgare shares a home base with one of the moths, being native to Europe. This plant was introduced to North America in the 1800s and has become naturalized. The connection to the second moth is that its larva feeds on the plant. 

Like its slithery namesake, viper bugloss is striking. Bold blue flowers that start as pink buds are held on dense spikes. Look closely and observe the flower’s distinct red stamen and blue pollen.

Turning away from its beauty, let’s unpack that curious, and weirdly common, name. Viper is, of course, a snake reference. There are a few suggestions for its derivation. European lore holds that the root of this plant is a cure-all for snake bites. Others propose that the rough nutlets that come after the flowers’ bloom resemble viper heads, while another reason may be its spotted stems mimic patterned snake skin.  

Bugloss describes plants in the borage family and while I want to say bug loss, it is actually pronounced “bu gloss.” Etymologically bugloss can be further broken down from Greek root bu that translates into ox and gloss or tongue, which may describe its rough, tongue-shaped leaves.

Other names for this naturalized plant include blueweed, adderwort, blue devil, blue thistle, cat’s tail, snake flower and viper’s grass.  

Devil might describe farmers’ aversion to viper’s bugloss, since it contains toxic alkaloids that are poisonous to horses and cattle.  

Another type of agriculturalist might defend this plant. Apiculturists or beekeepers appreciate this weedy species since it is a favorite of honey bees and can serve as raw material for copious amounts of pollen and honey. Some say it is possible to get up to 1,000 pounds of honey and up to 2,000 pounds of that blue pollen per acre of viper’s bugloss. 

Bees love it because of the nectar’s high sugar content and steady supply. The flower’s physical structure provides protection from desiccation by the sun and reduction of nectar dilution caused by rain. The bees are not alone, as at least 50 species of pollinators use this powerhouse nectar producer. 

It is truly a sweet spot for the bees. But there are warnings for excessive human consumption of this honey because of those aforementioned alkaloids. Same cautions for the plant’s edibility. And even its foliage can be a skin irritant to the sensitive. 

With only a handful of observations on the Island, we don’t yet share the concerns of other states where it has been declared invasive.  Viper’s bugloss does self-seed and can spread, so we may be seeing more of this snake-y — and sneaky — species. 

Thanks to scientific nomenclature, we will know to be looking for a grounded bugloss and not a flying one.

Suzan Bellincampi is Islands director for Felix Neck Wildlife Sanctuary in Edgartown and the Nantucket Wildlife Sanctuaries. She is also the author of Martha’s Vineyard: A Field Guide to Island Nature and The Nature of Martha’s Vineyard.