Share native plants, smother grass with newspaper, and partner with nature—it’s that easy to create a wildlife 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 for creating a wildlife garden.

Step 1. Make Friends and Share Plants!

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 great spangled fritillary butterflies. Though they’re attracted as adults to the nectar of many native species, their caterpillars can eat only violets. From the three plants 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 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 to the Earth: Use Natural Materials.

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.

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: Add Host Plants.

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.

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 wildlife 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: Draw Voracious Birds.

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.

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: Enjoy Nature’s Gardeners!

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.