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The Russian Olive: Invasive Tree, Herbal Ally, and Unexpected Gift The Russian Olive: Invasive Tree, Herbal Ally, and Unexpected Gift

The Russian Olive: Invasive Tree, Herbal Ally, and Unexpected Gift

Here in northern New Mexico, the high desert teaches us to be resourceful. Life finds a way to adapt, grow, and bloom in the margins—between rocks, under relentless sun, and in the driest of arroyos. That spirit of resilience is exactly what draws me to the Russian olive tree (Elaeagnus angustifolia), a plant both celebrated and scorned. Labeled invasive, this tree is often removed or ignored—but I see it differently. Like many of the so-called weeds and wild things I work with, the Russian olive has something to offer if we approach it with intention.

Recently, I was driving through town when I noticed that a Russian olive tree outside our local bank had just been trimmed. Fresh, fragrant branches—silvery green and full of life—were piled up at the base of the tree. I went inside to ask if I could take some, and they were happy to let me gather what I needed. I left with an armful of twigs and leaves, excited to turn this overlooked desert dweller into something beautiful: soap, tea, and tincture.

A Controversial Tree with a Complicated Story

The Russian olive was introduced to the U.S. in the early 1900s for practical reasons—erosion control, windbreaks, and ornamental beauty. With its shimmering silver foliage, gnarled bark, and yellow-gold blooms, it quickly became a common sight across the Southwest.

But its strength is also its shadow. Russian olive thrives in poor soils and harsh conditions, thanks to its nitrogen-fixing roots. It spreads quickly, outcompeting native riparian trees like cottonwoods and willows, and forming dense thickets along riverbanks and irrigation ditches. Because of this, it's often listed as an invasive species. Land managers spend considerable time and effort trying to remove it from sensitive habitats.

Yet, like many so-called invasives, the Russian olive is not all bad. It’s a pioneer species—a tree that moves into disturbed or neglected ground and holds it together. Its roots stabilize soil. Its fruit feeds birds and wildlife. And for herbalists and homesteaders, its branches, bark, leaves, and fruit can be used for a variety of purposes.

Herbal Uses of Russian Olive

The leaves, bark, and fruit of Russian olive have a long history of traditional use in parts of Asia and the Middle East, where the tree is native. Modern herbalists in the U.S. are rediscovering its potential, especially in areas where the plant is abundant and underutilized.

According to sources like Dara Saville of Albuquerque Herbalism, Russian olive offers several promising medicinal actions:

  • Anti-inflammatory: Extracts from the leaves and fruit have shown effects similar to over-the-counter NSAIDs in reducing inflammation and easing joint pain.

  • Antimicrobial: Preparations made from the bark and leaves may help fight bacterial infections.

  • Wound healing: Astringent and antioxidant properties can support skin repair, making it a valuable addition to salves or soaps.

  • Mildly sedative and relaxing: Teas made from the flowers or fruit are sometimes used to calm the nervous system.

It's important to note that research on Russian olive in herbal medicine is still emerging, and responsible use starts with understanding and testing your own body's response. Like all wild-crafted herbs, it should be harvested ethically, and only in areas where the plant is abundant and free from contaminants.

My Plans: Soap, Tea, and Tincture

The branches I gathered from the trimmed tree are now drying on my workbench here at Persimmon Moon Farm. The leaves, with their subtle herbal scent, will be steeped into a strong infusion to use in a cold-process soap bar—one I imagine will be grounding, earthy, and deeply soothing to the skin.

I'm also drying a batch of leaves and fruit for tea. I plan to blend the fruit with calming herbs like chamomile and lemon balm for a relaxing evening brew, especially helpful during these long windy nights when sleep is elusive.

Lastly, I’ll be making a tincture from the leaves and bark—a small-batch herbal extract I hope to use for inflammation support during the colder months, when joints get stiff and achy.

This process, to me, is the heart of herbalism: noticing what’s growing around us, asking what it might offer, and working with it gently. It’s about forming a relationship—not just with the plant, but with the place we both inhabit.

Working with "Invasives" as Allies

There’s a bigger story here, too. Invasive species are often framed as enemies to be eradicated, but the truth is more complex. Russian olive, like mullein or tamarisk or even dandelion, is doing something that native plants currently can’t—occupying disrupted or stressed landscapes and offering shelter, food, and medicine in the meantime.

While we should absolutely support efforts to restore native species and protect biodiversity, there's also room for a more nuanced approach—one that sees invasive plants not only as problems but as teachers and allies. We can harvest them, learn from them, and turn their abundance into medicine and meaning.

Final Thoughts

The Russian olive may not be welcome in every garden or forest, but here at Persimmon Moon Farm, it has found a home. By making soap, tea, and tincture from this “unwanted” tree, I hope to show that beauty and usefulness can grow in unexpected places.

As always, I encourage you to get curious about the plants growing near you. Ask questions. Do the research. Try things. And above all, listen—to the land, to the plants, and to your own intuition.

If you’ve worked with Russian olive or have your own thoughts about invasive species and herbalism, I’d love to hear from you. Let’s keep this conversation growing.v

Not all “invasive” plants are without purpose. 🌿 I gathered these Russian olive branches after a local tree was trimmed, and I’m turning them into herbal soap, tea, and tincture. Once I’ve harvested the leaves, bark, flowers, and fruit, the branches will be repurposed as bird bramble here on the farm.

Respect the land. Use what’s offered. Waste nothing. 💚
Deep thanks to Dara Saville of @albuquerqueherbalism for her insightful blog post and continued teachings—her work reminds us how to look deeper, even at the plants most often dismissed.

#RussianOlive #ForagedMedicine #PersimmonMoonFarm #HighDesertHerbalist #WildcraftedWisdom #EcologyOfHerbalMedicine #HerbalSoap #DesertPlants #NothingWasted #DaraSaville #AlbuquerqueHerbalism

With gratitude from the high desert,
Kate at Persimmon Moon Farm 🌙
Rooted in wild beauty and handmade care

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