Rich wildlife habitat? Check. Beautiful design? Check. And it all happens on just an eighth of an acre in this suburban oasis.
Standing in the mini-woodland behind her house last spring, Molly McElwee and I were surprised to see a hummingbird flying straight toward us. “Go that way! Go that way!” Molly whispered, nodding her head in the direction of the coral honeysuckle trellis up the hill.
What could our tiny friend possibly find here in the shade, we wondered, where columbines had already gone to seed and cardinal flowers weren’t yet blooming? We didn’t have to wait long for an answer. The mama hummer wasn’t looking for nectar; she needed nesting material, and the spent flowers of golden ragwort would do just the trick. Before we knew it, she’d come and gone, carrying away a cotton-y seedhead that would help make a soft, cozy spot for her babies.
Though I grow lots of golden ragwort, a native groundcover—and though hummingbirds nest in my garden every summer—I’d never been lucky enough to see this phenomenon in action. But even quick visits to Molly’s habitat in Catonsville, Md., glean amazing wildlife sightings. At an eighth of an acre, it’s a small garden with a big heart, supporting much more life than the larger cookie-cutter landscapes that dominate our region.
I’ve been admiring Molly’s garden for years because of its appeal to both human and wildlife senses. “Controlled chaos,” I like to call it, because it provides the lush vegetation that animals need for food and cover but also includes all the “cues to care”—or signs of human intention—that landscape designers deem necessary for fitting in with the Joneses: pathways, seating areas, functional ornaments like birdbaths and rocks, a mowed strip along the road.
Often I hear homeowners say they can’t garden for wildlife because their land is so much smaller than mine. But Molly’s garden, shown in more detail in the following photos, is living, beautiful proof that size doesn’t matter. Here are five of my favorite things about her habitat.
1. She uses “wild plants” in a formal design, creating walkways that help people commune with nature.
Over the years, Molly has gradually pushed out more and more turfgrass to expand her wildlife garden. As a Maryland master gardener and master naturalist, she takes the time to learn as much as she can about natives that will help local fauna. Mixing the old with the new, she leaves established azaleas, hostas and other conventional garden plants but surrounds them with common milkweed, swamp milkweed, butterfly weed, echinacea, coneflowers, bonesets, blue mistflowers, cardinal flower, violets, red-twig dogwoods, ironweed, asters, pussytoes and many more species that feed caterpillars or provide nectar, pollen and seed for insects, birds and mammals. Pathways and mowed strips add structure as she continues to give grass a pass.
2. She grows in wildlife-rich layers, using trellises and deck railing to support vines and tall perennials.
The layered design of the garden makes it look much bigger to human eyes than it actually is, yielding surprises and new vistas around every bend in the path. But most importantly, it provides more places for wildlife to hide, rest and nest than a flat landscape ever could. Trellises and tree snags support coral honeysuckle, the oldest of which has been named “The Beast” for its vigorous growth habit. Over the years the vines have attracted many smaller beasts, including hummingbird moth caterpillars who eat its leaves and green lacewings who lay their delicate eggs in the dense foliage.
3. She goes easy on the land, gently eliminating a little more turfgrass one patch at a time.
By laying down newspaper topped with organic matter, Molly makes new planting areas without digging or tilling. The method helps preserve not only her back but also the top rich layers of soil. Each year she adds more beds and more plants, allowing them to gradually fill in and take over the ground layer as a kind of living mulch.
4. She uses every pocket of space, from shed borders to alleyways.
Near the shed, Molly added cardinal flowers and swamp milkweed around the hostas and liriope; later she extended the border into an unused space near a dead-end side street adjacent to her property. As new plantings of Joe Pye weed and other tall native perennials beckon more and more pollinators, they continue to reseed behind the shed and elsewhere, filling up the rest of the unplanted spaces for free. Never one to let bare ground sit for long, Molly recently started transplanting common milkweeds to a strip by her driveway, squeezing them in around the old hydrangeas planted by previous homeowners.
5. She and her garden evolve together.
When Molly realized the Leyland cypress she’d originally planted by a side alley might shade out her wildlife garden and eventually topple, she started thinking about which native trees and shrubs might provide better habitat instead. While removing the first two Leylands, she left short snags for insects and birds. In the new bare spots, she added sea oats and wildflowers, and began nurturing volunteer tulip poplars and a redbud tree. As the garden continues to grow and change, Molly’s gardening style evolves too. No season is ever the same, but one thing remains constant: The plants and the wild neighbors who rely on them are always welcome here.
RELATED STORY: See more photos of Molly’s garden and tips from other gardeners and landscapers in “Wild by Design: How to garden for wildlife and the neighbors, too”