A widow skimmer enjoys the perimeter of a new native rose garden.How’s a person supposed to get any work done when such exquisite creatures are flying in front of her face all day? That’s
the question I’ve posed to the birds and bees and butterflies doing
their best to distract me from a book project this summer. They’ve
remained conspicuously silent on the matter, but my sister has confirmed
my suspicions about this winged conspiracy: “There are so many,” she
said of the pollinators crowding the swamp milkweed and green coneflower
near my patio, “it’s hard to look away!”
Although my blog writing has become more sporadic in light
of the looming deadline, I can’t let this week—the one-year anniversary
of the launch of Humane Gardener—go by without paying homage to all
creatures great and small who’ve made it possible. With gratitude to
them and to the many wonderful members of our two-legged species I’ve
met along the way, I offer these tips.
Step 1. Make Friends.
Dozens
of great spangled fritillary butterflies make their home in my yard
every day. Though they enjoy butterflyweed and other plants in the
milkweed family as adults, their caterpillars must have violets to
survive.
You don’t need to earn a landscaping degree or hold a PhD in bee
biology to start a wildlife garden. But it helps to have people in your
life who are willing to share with wild abandon.
If it weren’t for my friend Sally, we would not have such a
proliferation of fritillary butterflies. Though they’re attracted as
adults to the nectar of many native species, they can lay their eggs
only on violets. From the three Sally uprooted 15 years ago, we now have
thousands that provide essential habitat for these little beauties.
At only two weeks old, our newest milkweed patch is much younger than
Sally’s violets. But I’ve already found monarch eggs on each of the
seven little transplants. And that’s thanks to Molly, who generously
offered up her extras at a time when my battered milkweed in the front
yard seemed to be getting too tired to support fall migrations. My
latest milkweed patch is sited near a pollinator garden, where last
night I spotted a monarch butterfly among all the swallowtails,
fritillaries, skippers, wasps, and bees. Wondering if she’d laid eggs on
the transplants, I went to look under the leaves. Sure enough, some
even had two eggs. Given to me by a new friend, these plants will
heretofore be known as Molly’s Magic Milkweed.
My gardens are filled with such gifts: the aptly named “queen of the
prairie” flower from Lisa, the tasty strawberries from Janet, the
sweet-smelling mountain mint from Stephanie, the exotic-looking native
hibiscus from Jan, the misunderstood but much-beloved-by-pollinators
dogbane from Angela, the giant late-flowering asters from Christine.
Whenever I see all these plants and the life they sustain, I am
grateful for the friends who care so much about our earth that they want
to share its bounty.
Step 2. Give Back.
Planted
in June directly into the turfgrass, these elderberries, a great fruit
source for birds, are already twice as large as they were when I bought
them.
Preying on insecurities of new gardeners, a whole industry has grown
up around promotion of fancy bagged products and potions. But more often
than not, these external inputs are counterproductive, disrupting
natural soil cycles and maiming bees, butterfly larvae, and countless
other sensitive creatures who feed and reproduce on our plants or in the
ground.
Using what you have on hand—and returning materials back to the
earth—is more sustainable and infinitely more doable on a small budget.
On our own two acres, carving gardens out of the sea of turfgrass used
to be a daunting task. After spending too many sweltering afternoons
jumping up and down on a shovel wedged into hard clay, I began papering
it over instead. This method preserves both rich organic matter and my
fragile back. It also means I can use natural materials already on site,
as Maryland natives grown in their preferred light and moisture
conditions usually thrive in existing soil. All
grown in: This is the edge of a large garden created last year by
layering newspaper over grass. Clethra is one of many beautiful
alternatives to butterfly bush, the seeds of which escape from gardens
to invade natural habitats miles away. Native groundcovers golden
ragwort and green-and-gold serve as “green mulch” in this garden,
quickly filling in around the well-used birdbath.
While the most commonly recommended method is to layer paper or
cardboard beneath compost or mulch and let it all sit a few months
before planting, I prefer not to wait that long. To make an
insta-garden, I dig holes in the grass, put my plants in, surround them
with paper, soak the paper with water to hold it in place, and top it
all off with whatever else I have handy—leaves, old coconut fiber from
hanging pots, potting soil from transplants, and (when I run out of
options) mulch from the landfill. The beauty of this method is that,
even as the new plants grow taller and the surrounding materials start
to break down, animals and wind begin sowing seeds of other species in
the spaces between. And before I know it, the earth erupts in flowers
sown by both me and by nature.
Step 3. Think of the Children.
Spread
the word: This pearl crescent butterfly fluttered all over the
newspaper I laid down around my new milkweed, reminding me that we need
to consider the needs of all our garden visitors. Though adults can
drink nectar from many flowers, the pearl crescent needs aster leaves
for her babies.
Much attention has been paid to the plight of monarch butterflies,
and for good reason. The wanton destruction of the only plants they can
lay their eggs on—those in the milkweed family—has led to a steep
decline in their numbers. But milkweed is only one host plant among
hundreds needed to support the life cycles of many butterfly and moth
species in our gardens. If you want butterflies, you need plants that will feed their babies. Antennaria
groundcovers—in this case, Parlin’s pussytoes—are a favored host plant
for caterpillars of the American lady butterfly. Within two months of
adding them to my garden this summer, we already had an American lady
nursery.
A pearl crescent reminded me of that last week while I planted
Molly’s Magic Milkweed to expand my monarch offerings. She made quite a
show of enjoying the damp newspaper and mulch used to smother the grass
of the new garden, but her presence had broader meaning for me. This milkweed is nice and all, she seemed to be saying, but I need asters for my babies! While I
happen to have many species of aster in my garden—including heath
asters, smooth asters, and New England asters—I can’t say I planted them
intentionally for pearl crescent caterpillars. In the fall I will add
more in honor of my small-but-mighty friend.
Step 4. Call in Quality Control.
What’s
good enough for the catbirds is good enough for me. They enjoy a range
of insects and fruits in their diet, and I am only too happy to provide
for them.
Host plants for caterpillars? Check. Nectar plants for butterflies?
Check. Is there something you’re still forgetting? You can always count
on the catbird to let you know. Like many birds, and especially baby
birds, they are voracious consumers of insects. To ensure you have a
plentiful supply, stay away from pesticides and other chemicals that
kill grasshoppers and ants and everyone in between. Manufacturers of
these products like to promise you the perfect rose garden, but a garden
too toxic for a bee and too nutritionally deficient for a bird is no
garden at all. Catbird-tested,
goldfinch-approved: A year-old garden made from newspapers provides
rudbeckia and other much-needed midsummer seed for goldfinches, one of
the few birds who don’t feed their babies insects. They are “among the
strictest vegetarians in the bird world,” notes the Cornell Lab of
Ornithology.
Birds also need native fruits and seeds in varying supply when
migrating, breeding, and overwintering. Shrubs offer both berries for
sustenance and dense habit for nesting and cover from predators.
Fortunately I was able to let my catbird friend know that this
garden-in-the-making would soon be a thicket of native roses, a
family-friendly spot for rose-hip dining and baby bird rearing.
Step 5. Let the Team Take Over.
Because
our native trees, shrubs, vines, perennials, and groundcovers feed many
species of caterpillars, the bluebirds in our front yard had plenty of
food to raise noisy, healthy babies this year. Photo by Will HeinzIn the spring hummingbird moths dine on phlox divaricata; in mid-summer they find this phlox paniculata irresistible.
Once you have a few spots planted with species native to your area,
sit back and watch the magic happen. Leave as much of your garden as
possible the way nature intended: Let perennial stalks stay up
overwinter so the seedheads can feed birds and stems can shelter bees.
Provide bare, undisturbed patches near your pollinator plants
so ground-nesting bees can raise their babies. Let leaves fall where
they may to give shelter to caterpillars, pupae, salamanders, and many
other animals during the cold, dark days.
You’ll be amazed by how many furred, feathered, and antennaed
friends swoop in to offer their help once you make your home theirs,
too.
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