A few years ago I started letting some “weeds” grow in my thoroughly domesticated suburban yard. The result is a lush patch of ferns in a flowerbed, a crop of wild black raspberries, and a couple of wild black cherry trees that will bear fruit soon. The best part is they basically care for themselves, other than a little pruning.
Plenty of nonnatives around too, of course, but I am loathe to turn on my fellow wanderers.
So glad you wrote this. I spend my pasture time cutting autumn olive, encouraging natives (planting and avoiding mowing at the wrong season. It's such a small thing to do, but nourishes the soul.
Invasive and native/non-native are really individual subjects, but yes, people get really fired up on either subject. My goal is balance, brought by diversity. So yes to more non-invasive natives, to help restore the balance. Yes to human management to help combat human carelessness.
You write about specific plants with such respect and affection and knowledge (and others with a dislike that you have a good explanation for.) In short, you are just the sort of person we should listen to regarding invasives because you know the land and the plants and their interactions. This piece is so mild and diplomatic though, it might not get much traction because people in this debate love a shouting match about ideology with clearly defined sides. So much of what I've read is just stirring up controversy to attract more eyeballs. If we really want to know what should be done we need to ask people who are involved with the land, and understand that answers will vary from place to place. The issue isn't as cut and dried as some make it out to be.
Ive lived on our 26 acres of Ontario forest for 20 years now and have seen massive changes in species composition in that short time. White ash, black ash, beech, and elm trees have all died off, with some saplings remaining to hopefully regrow. Red oak is next on the list, oak wilt is slowly creeping northward and eventually will break through the attempts to halt it at our southern border. It’s hard not to become pessimistic when you lose about 50% of your tree species in a 20 year period. I keep planting bur oaks and try to give some space to the beech and ash saplings, hoping they’ll be able to reach seed-producing size before succumbing, and hope that nothing pops up to wipe out our maples
A few years ago I started letting some “weeds” grow in my thoroughly domesticated suburban yard. The result is a lush patch of ferns in a flowerbed, a crop of wild black raspberries, and a couple of wild black cherry trees that will bear fruit soon. The best part is they basically care for themselves, other than a little pruning.
Plenty of nonnatives around too, of course, but I am loathe to turn on my fellow wanderers.
So glad you wrote this. I spend my pasture time cutting autumn olive, encouraging natives (planting and avoiding mowing at the wrong season. It's such a small thing to do, but nourishes the soul.
Invasive and native/non-native are really individual subjects, but yes, people get really fired up on either subject. My goal is balance, brought by diversity. So yes to more non-invasive natives, to help restore the balance. Yes to human management to help combat human carelessness.
You write about specific plants with such respect and affection and knowledge (and others with a dislike that you have a good explanation for.) In short, you are just the sort of person we should listen to regarding invasives because you know the land and the plants and their interactions. This piece is so mild and diplomatic though, it might not get much traction because people in this debate love a shouting match about ideology with clearly defined sides. So much of what I've read is just stirring up controversy to attract more eyeballs. If we really want to know what should be done we need to ask people who are involved with the land, and understand that answers will vary from place to place. The issue isn't as cut and dried as some make it out to be.
Ive lived on our 26 acres of Ontario forest for 20 years now and have seen massive changes in species composition in that short time. White ash, black ash, beech, and elm trees have all died off, with some saplings remaining to hopefully regrow. Red oak is next on the list, oak wilt is slowly creeping northward and eventually will break through the attempts to halt it at our southern border. It’s hard not to become pessimistic when you lose about 50% of your tree species in a 20 year period. I keep planting bur oaks and try to give some space to the beech and ash saplings, hoping they’ll be able to reach seed-producing size before succumbing, and hope that nothing pops up to wipe out our maples
That is devastating to read.