Beth Ayers

Reflections

Like many others, my journey into planting native plants to support the local ecosystem at my home in North Carolina began six or seven years ago with Doug Tallamy’s Bringing Nature Home. But the real influence and inspiration can be summarized in two words: Mike Berst.

Mike not only introduced me to Tallamy and the critical importance of re-establishing native plant communities, but went on to teach, guide, and encourage me every step of the way. Over many years I have been the grateful beneficiary of Mike’s generous sharing of his experience, research, and time.

We have lived on our sixteen-acre property in the North Carolina Piedmont for twenty years. About five acres are mature mixed forest — pine (Pinus), oak (Quercus), cherry (Prunus), American sycamore (Platanus occidentalis), and sweetgum (Liquidambar styraciflua). There are also some glorious mature magnolias (Magnolia grandiflora), river birches (Betula nigra), redbuds (Cercis canadensis), and many others.

Poison ivy (Toxicodendron radicans), Virginia creeper (Parthenocissus quinquefolia), pokeweed (Phytolacca americana), wild violets (Viola sororia), one of my favorites, and dog fennel (Eupatorium capillifolium) are also prevalent. But much of the property is severely degraded and has been overtaken by alien species.

The removal of alien species that have displaced native plants here is ongoing. Some of the more problematic plants I have removed include mahonia, Japanese stiltgrass, autumn olive, Chinese privet, and Japanese honeysuckle. Japanese stiltgrass is particularly difficult, as there are acres of it throughout the woods. Bradford pear is another problem. When the Bradfords bloom in spring, the extent of their invasion becomes painfully obvious.

The plan Mike and I developed was to start the native planting in small, manageable steps that one individual could handle. The first task was locating reliable sources for native plants. The nurseries I had formerly patronized offered very few native options, and the big-box stores could not guarantee that their plants were free of neonicotinoids—an imperative, since neonicotinoid contamination would render the plants toxic to insects.

Mike helped me locate several native plant nurseries, and as I became more involved in the project I found additional ones and began supporting them all. Their work is critically important.

To maximize genetic diversity and ecological value, I limited my selections to straight species and excluded cultivars. This decision is somewhat controversial among landscapers who profit from patented clones, and there is pressure within parts of the nursery industry to justify monocultures. Many native plant vendors also sell cultivars—and sometimes even alien species alongside native plants—which can add to the confusion faced by newcomers.

Helpful resources for researching plants native to a particular area include the Biota of North America Program (BONAP) and the North Carolina State University Extension Gardener Plant Toolbox.

My first ventures into native planting were dismal failures. Almost all of my plants succumbed to increasing deer pressure, making it difficult to get established.

Two years ago, under Mike’s guidance, I renewed my efforts, studied the plants native to my location more carefully, and began again. This time the effort was largely successful, and two years later most of the plants I installed are thriving.

Some of the work focused on deer management—barriers, fencing, cages, and various deterrents. Because the deer population here has no natural predators and continues to grow beyond the carrying capacity of the land, I eventually added hunters to the plan. So far they have culled four does—only a small step toward restoring balance.

Encouraged by the planting success, I expanded the effort. Around the same time we had to bury three horses on the property in quick succession, leaving an area of disturbed soil. For several months we added manure and wood chips to create a raised bed. My husband and I fenced the area with agricultural panels to establish a pollinator garden and discourage deer—though the deer eventually breached the fence and caused some damage. Still, many plants survived, and the garden continues to develop.

Planting native species turns the conventional gardening model upside down. Traditional gardening often focuses on appearance and personal taste. Native planting, by contrast, focuses on restoring the ecological relationships that sustain local life.

Native plants are beautiful, but they often do not fit the conventional aesthetic of sameness, sterility, and tidy uniformity. We “leave the leaves” rather than cleaning everything up in autumn, because those leaves provide shelter and food for countless organisms.

When I showed friends the monarch caterpillars feeding on milkweed and Eastern swallowtail caterpillars devouring their host plants, they were surprised that I allowed the damage. Laughing, I explained that those plants were placed there specifically to host butterflies that depend on them to survive.

What changes have I noticed since introducing more native plants? First, a heightened awareness of the diversity around me. Pollinators visit the flowers constantly. Dragonflies and damselflies patrol the air. Birds are everywhere.

This year we recorded twenty-four species of butterflies and more than forty species of birds, most of them songbirds. Many had probably been present before, but I had never really noticed them until I began paying attention.

One day while I was working in the garden a bald eagle swooped down less than ten feet over my head before soaring up into a nearby tree. That moment took my breath away.

Another time a guest who stayed overnight commented on the cacophony of bird song that woke her in the morning. She had a bird-sound machine at home and was delighted to discover the “real thing” outside her window.

Ruby-throated hummingbirds have always visited our property, but over the past two years their numbers have increased dramatically. They now feed not only at the feeders but also on native flowers. Wild bergamot (Monarda fistulosa) is a favorite and grows easily here. I maintained five feeders around the house and had to clean and refill them every few days all summer long.

Another encouraging development has been the self-propagation of some plants. Blue mistflower (Conoclinium coelestinum), wild bergamot (Monarda fistulosa), seashore mallow (Kosteletzkya pentacarpos), goldenrods (Solidago), and several mountain mints (Pycnanthemum) have all spread naturally. It is fascinating to see where these plants choose to establish themselves.

Native planting also encourages sharing. Plants that multiply can be given away, and gardeners can exchange extras with one another. One plant I received this way—Eastern prickly pear cactus (Opuntia humifusa)—has become a beautiful specimen. The deer devoured its spectacular yellow flowers, but the plant itself remains untouched, perhaps thanks to its formidable spines.

Mike also advised me to watch for native plants that simply “show up.” So far I have discovered wild strawberry (Fragaria virginiana), camphorweed (Pluchea camphorata), rustweed (Polypremum procumbens), American burnweed (Erechtites hieracifolius), and several volunteer sycamore and cherry trees.

When I learned that Mike was planning a major native planting project at the SBTH Discovery Center, I wanted to contribute. I arranged a directed donation to support the work. Helping a friend and mentor advance such an important project felt like a privilege.

I have since had the honor of serving on the Board of Directors of Saving Birds Thru Habitat. SBTH attracted me because of its mission—to protect, enhance, and restore habitat for North American birds and to educate people of all ages about how this can be done.

There is still much work to do. As SBTH develops new programs and projects, there will be opportunities for many others to participate in restoring and protecting bird habitat.

I encourage others to support the work of SBTH—through a memorial bequest, a recurring monthly donation, or an annual gift. In a lean organization like this, even modest contributions go a long way toward addressing the urgent crisis of habitat loss and species extinction.