9/25/2021: Native plants- just do it.
I had high aspirations for blogging over the summer, unfortunately cut to a stump by a combination of overbooking my schedule and running out of energy amidst a bunch of yard projects. Maybe next summer with my boots on the ground at home I’ll be able to give a better window into my landscaping insights, but now that we’ve officially entered fall I figured I would snipe a blog posts on the wonders of native plantings before winter slams into my gardens like truck with cut brake lines.
My love for native plants started after a botanical foray weekend with the Michigan Botanical Society, courtesy of Dr. Orin Gelderloos. Much like my love affair with roaches (more on this in a few weeks), I can definitively point to this experience and say that it was the sole trigger to my captivation and future endeavors on the subject.
Since I moved in in 2017, I have gradually converted the property, which was once mostly raggedy, sickly, lawn on nutrient barren, compacted, pure sand soil and a few oddball spots where past yardwork had left unnatural pockets of clay and rock, into a verdant, low-effort cornucopia of primarily Michigan native plants. My mental health, observable biodiversity, and visible beauty of the landscape have never been better and I was finally emboldened enough to host a garden tour with the Master Gardener’s Association of Wayne County, which went very well.
Some of my neighbors enjoy the yard enough to enlist my efforts in converting their own landscaping, while at least one noteworthy and proximal character expresses continuous and extreme disdain at the presence of any foliage that hasn’t been hacked to a desperate nub by a lawnmower or gussied up with fertilizer, constant watering, and prison cell-like spacing amongst barren neon-red woodchips in a tyrannically formal garden bed. You can tell where my ire lies.
As much as I have fallen in love with the plants themselves, the real warm and fuzzy feeling comes from seeing wildlife of every shape and size enliven my yard. Flocks of American goldfinches, mourning doves, juncos, and other birds frequent the plantings to look for seeds. Eastern cottontails, woodchucks, and meadow voles scurry across the paths and shake the foliage when I go out for a walk. Clouds of pollinators of unbelievable diversity cover the blooms and planthoppers and grasshoppers bounce through the leaves. I will admit, despite my disdain for the hoof-rats (deer), I do enjoy watching them browse the browned herbaceous foliage during snowy winter days, knowing they’re getting some calories and good roughage without doing irreversible damage to the ecology.
Even now in late September, despite the cooling air, sinking sun, and overcast of the autumn skies some of our native plants are just now kicking into action. Bidens, asters, goldenrods, turtleheads, and prairie sage are all at or entering peak bloom, and I can look forward to flowers buzzing with bees until or after first frost. The late activity makes it feel like winter isn’t so close, and as a reassurance that even though it is, all my insect friends will be back next year thanks to all of the extra rations their progeny will have from their gathering activities now.
For those who haven’t already and who have the freedom to do so, let this be another friendly reminder to kill your lawn and embrace the whimsy, resplendence, and practicality of native plants. Nature isn’t a place you go to; it’s every square inch of this Earth whether it’s in the middle of Yosemite national park or a step outside your front door!
-Kyle