Nancy Lawson is the author of The Humane Gardener: Nurturing a Backyard Habitat for Wildlife. A columnist for All Animals magazine, she founded Humane Gardener, an outreach initiative dedicated to animal-friendly landscaping methods. Her book and garden have been featured in The New York Times, The Washington Post, O: The Oprah Magazine, and other media outlets.
By the end of last week, the thirsty earth cracked open in a cry for help. But Saturday morning brought this: a garden so satiated that the phlox blossoms (above) bowed down toward the soil, as if heralding the impending arrival of our beloved butterflies.
Welcome to the jungle, the gardens seemed to say. Amid a sea of lifeless lawns in suburbia, it’s easy to forget that this region was once a swampland. But native plants, which are happy with any water they get, have helped us restore a lush environment for wildlife.Saturday was a sleepy morning for all of us, but the bumblebees had even more reason to stay put. The swamp milkweed provided at least a modicum of shelter from the storm.One, two, three, four — the Eastern tiger swallowtails swooped in throughout the dewy afternoon, lifting my spirits as high as the tulip poplar treetops where they’d hatched. Cold, erratic spring weather is thought to be the cause of reduced caterpillar numbers this year. But this Joe Pye weed patch, planted last fall for the benefit of late-season butterflies, is a favorite watering hole of those who survived.After weeks of providing nectar to hummingbirds and hummingbird moths, the bee balm finally got its own thirst quenched.Bursting with red and yellow ladies, the horse weed earned its place in the garden after the rains. Following years of yanking it out, I’d been captivated this summer by the beauty of its whorled leaves and had wondered if it was native. A favorite nursery finally confirmed my suspicions, though they hastened to add that the plant is not very desirable in the garden. That’s probably true for more manicured spaces, but here in my jungle, I’m letting the ladybugs be the judge.Just beneath the surface of things, new surprises await. Especially after the rains.
