Last week I walked my street for more than a mile without ever seeing a bee.
While that may seem unremarkable at a time when stores are already stocking Christmas decorations, to me it’s a sign that something’s amiss. That’s because I’ve dedicated a few minutes of most autumn afternoons to photographing more animals than I could count on our little plot of land: bumblebees, mining bees, sweat bees, pearl crescents, orange sulphurs, common buckeyes, Eastern-tailed blues, wasps, syrphid flies, monarchs, common checkered skippers, and creatures I cannot yet name:
There were a few signs of life around the rest of the neighborhood when I went on my walk: a funny-faced pit mix who likes to pretend she’s tough stuff behind her invisible fence; a squirrel peeking around from behind a tree to ensure I wasn’t after his walnut; a flock of geese overhead; birds in the roadside canopies harmonizing with the perpetual cricket chorus; and a man on a large mower that leveled his front yard while he went along for the ride.
All in all, it was pretty quiet for a mile-long stretch, a silence I’ve come to expect. I’m familiar with the lack of plant diversity—and the resulting dearth of what could be abundant animal life—on the turf-dominated landscapes throughout our town. In the past the barrenness has so discouraged me that I’ve sometimes forgone some much needed exercise. But now, determined to get my head on straight after a neck injury this summer, I’ve walked up and down the road so much that I suppose I’ve grown a little to used to the unnatural solitude that grass and pavement force upon us.
It was the sound of buzzing bees that brought me back to my senses and made me realize what I’d been missing on my journey. In front of the only other plant-filled property on our long road were bumblebees, sweat bees, and orange sulphurs—a whole community of animals much like those in my meadow. With few grass blades in sight, my neighbor Wayne’s yard is a refuge, much like mine, for species still searching for sustenance even as we humans begin retreating inside to our TVs and fireplaces.
My own gardens haven’t always been such a rich refueling station for animals as the seasons change. A few years ago I noticed butterflies and bees zipping around our property, presumably searching for flowers, after almost everything had gone to seed. Desperate to help them, my husband and I started planting more native fall blooms—swamp sunflowers, smooth asters, New England asters, goldenrods of every size and stripe. But even more beneficial to our wild inhabitants is what we have stopped doing altogether—namely mowing the field behind our house. Now that broomsedge, purpletop grass, and other native grasses are beginning to take hold, they put out a natural welcome mat for all sorts of uncultivated fall flowers, including late-flowering thoroughwort, more goldenrods, and especially frost asters that sprout throughout the meadow. I no longer have to worry about whether we have enough to feed the migrating monarchs or the tattered but still flying fritillaries or the gourmand bees who feed their young pollen only from certain fall-flowering species but turn their proboscises up at everything else.
You don’t need a two-acre expanse to create such opportunities for our wild friends. In fact, small yards in cities can support abundant life, especially when native plantings connect these habitat fragments across the landscape. On my property, the patio, roadside, and container plantings offer their own kind of buffets.
These flowers won’t be here for much longer. This morning I awoke to a freeze warning, in effect until 9 a.m. By now many of our tiny friends are retreating to their winter hiding places. But I’m still planting this week for those who are left—and the many more who will visit throughout the next season. In some areas of the country, it’s not too late to add life-sustaining native trees, shrubs, vines, and flowers to your yard. And though the stores are now filled with traditional spring bulbs like daffodils and tulips, those flowers won’t do anything for the specialist bee who emerges just in time to gather pollen only from the flowers of spring beauties or the one who takes pollen exclusively from violets to feed her young. Even generalist foragers like bumblebees, who visit a wide variety of blooms, will likely have better luck with natives like Dutchman’s breeches and Virginia bluebells than with plants sold en masse at big box centers. Not only are many still treated with systemic pesticides that can contaminate pollen and nectar; some highly bred plants have had nutritious floral resources largely removed for the sake of extra petals and other aesthetic characteristics pleasing to human eyes.
One day I hope to walk my street and hear the sounds not of lawn mowers but of busy bees visiting their favorite flowers lining the driveways, the front walkways, and the roadsides. Last month the Natural Resources Defense Council predicted a major shift away from lawns over the next 10 to 15 years. But we don’t have to wait that long. We can act now, one property and neighborhood at a time, planting the seeds of a flower revolution wherever we go, starting with our own front yards.
You can find native plant sales and nurseries in your area by checking out the website of your state native plant society. If you don’t live close enough to a nursery that sells native plants, search online for sources like Izel Plants, one of my favorites in the mid-Atlantic, or Prairie Moon Nursery in the Midwest.
Really enjoyed the comments and photos. Living in an increasingly populated area of Long Island, I have been mourning the loss of so many of our butterflies and bees. This year 2 plants took over my garden , blue asters and beauty berry. I had always ripped out the Beauty Berry, but this year it got away from me and was flowering when I caught up with it. I was amazed to see hundreds and hundreds of pollinators, including honey and bumble bees on the flowers of both plants! Decided to leave both “thugs” alone for the bees sake!
Hi Joan! Oh, that is wonderful. I would love for beautyberries to take over my garden. So far they have stayed contained! Maybe I should try them in another spot, too, and see how they do. I’m glad you left them. 🙂 One of the people profiled in my book grew up on Staten Island and said butterflies were absolutely everywhere then — in the 50s. It is hard to imagine now. But we can bring them back!
What a great combination of wit and wisdom!
Why, thank you, kind sir! 🙂
Beautiful photos Nancy. I hope that soon your neighborhood will have abundant wildlife
Thanks, Ellen! I just met with Wayne (mentioned in my blog) yesterday and toured his property. It is truly amazing. Not all native — he started when not a lot of natives were yet available in the marketplace — but he is gradually working more in, and the plants he has are such a refuge regardless. So much better than grass. We talked about starting to get more acquainted with some of the newer folks on the street who are interested in gardening — there’s been some turnover, and it seems the first instinct is to start clearing everything before finding out more about the plants and their value. I’ve been reading about the tendency among many animal species beyond just our own to conform to the norms of surrounding individuals/culture, and it makes me think once again that if we could just make plants more “the norm,” everything else would follow …
I made a terrible garden mistake! The plant that has attracted thousands of bees and wasps is the dreaded Porcelain Berry! My daughter gave it to me on Mother’s Day as a gift purchased at a nursery (horrors), no label, with attractive variegated leaves (now I realize it’s glandulosa var. brevipedunculata, Elegans). Now that I know this cultivar is just as invasive and destructive to native plants I will attempt to eliminate it this weekend. I’m going to try to dig the roots, and although I’m an organic gardener I’m considering painting the cut stem with glyphosphate and covering with a plastic bag to try to ensure the death of this plant before spring. Any advice? I feel terrible and will try to bag and dispose of the vine and berries remaining 🙁
Hi again, Joan – oh, it’s so terrible that the nursery is selling that! New York has pretty strong regulations against selling invasives (unlike most states), but maybe porcelain berry is not on the list yet. This happens a lot, though — if we dug everything up before knowing what it is, we’d end up digging up a lot of natives, too. So I don’t think you should feel bad. Regarding glyphosate, many ecological gardeners/designers use it in just the way you’re describing. I personally don’t use any chemicals because the research always seem to eventually demonstrate harm to animals and the environment (and also because I don’t want to support the making of glyphosate, which, when used in other contexts, has definitely been shown to have many deleterious effects). Here is an interesting study on a method used to control buckthorn with plastic bags in the Midwest: http://news.wisc.edu/buckthorn-baggie-kills-invasive-trees-without-chemicals/. I have done this for years — placed black plastic pots and bags over stumps (and have done it with porcelainberry, and it does seem to do the trick. Also, if you plant vigorous natives in the area and just keep cutting off the shoots, it’ll eventually be starved and outcompeted, I’d think.
Thank you Nancy, I will definitely try covering after cutting before I resort to glyphosphate. I share your feelings about its purchase and use. It’s planted very close to my witch hazel, which has been suffering from a late-spring die-off of its lower leaves in the past years and had actually covered the bare branches, so I saw no harm at the time…ugh! I’ll be watching for emerging seedlings in spring to get them early. I appreciate you advice 🙂
Here are a few autumn-flowering (and *summer-flowering- continuing-into-autumn) native (and +non-native) plants that pollinators flock to in our rural central Florida location (temps get colder here than in nearby Brooksville & Spring Hill, & we usually freeze by the end of December):
*Red tropical sage/salvia (self-seeding)
*Fire bush (self-seeding)
* + Perennial (not annual) red pentas (propagate by rooting cuttings)
Frost weed (different than frost aster) (self-seeding)
Elliot’s aster (moist locations; multiplies prolifically by underground roots)
Narrowleaf sunflower (multiplies prolifically by underground roots)
Neighborhood suggestion: offer a sampling of blooming potted native plants to receptive neighbors. When in bloom, the plants don’t so closely resemble “weeds” and they appear more “desirable”. Maybe the new owners will set the pots on a picnic table, close to a front entryway, or in an empty spot in traditional flower beds. Include a tag stating the plant name, “Maryland Native”, preferred growing location, and a few of the butterflies it attracts. Maybe because it’s easy, the neighbor might subsequently plant them. Once a few start self-seeding, a wild area is born. Someone in the family might say “Hey Dad! Don’t mow the flowers!” If allowed, the wild areas will expand — as if by magic!
Thanks, Debbie, for the list, and what a great idea! I will try that in my neighborhood next spring. 🙂