Common Mallow arrives uninvited in garden edges and cracked pavement, but it comes from good family — the same that gave us cotton, hibiscus, okra, and, improbably, the original marshmallow. Its rounded, scalloped leaves form low mats in open ground, and by fall, small pink flowers appear, modest and unhurried, drawing bees that seem unbothered by its weedy reputation.

The plant is harder to remove than it looks. Seedlings send down taproots that go woody fast, and the seeds coat themselves so thickly that they can wait years in the soil for their moment. Pulling plants before they flower is the practical strategy — once seed sets, the next generation is already promised. It tolerates poor soil, irregular mowing, and most of what a busy corner of the garden can throw at it, which is both its virtue and its challenge.