Eileen M. Stark's Blog, page 12
November 26, 2014
Reflecting on What Makes a Garden “Real”
American gardens are generally a mix of styles borrowed from other countries and cultures, many of which developed over centuries. Just a few that we’ve adapted: The romantic English cottage garden, the traditional Japanese garden, and the formal French parterre. This borrowing isn’t unlike our diets—I eat mostly ethnic or ethnically influenced foods for a variety of reasons, most of which revolve around flavor, nutrition, and ingredients that are often plant-based. Unless you’re getting take-out straight from Italy or Thailand, ethnic cuisine is great, especially when locally grown ingredients bring it all home.
But landscaping with borrowed styles typically results in gardens that are decidedly unauthentic. What’s lacking is a relationship to local history, geology, ecology, and a sense of place (more on the latter in the book). When we use mainly local ingredients, though (that is, native plants and other elements), even exotic or “period” designs can be ecologically functional and feel like home.
Creating gardens that are enmeshed in their native surroundings, use indigenous materials, and reflect the natural world, then, are real. They are beautiful, but not just for the sake of mere decoration, and unlike Period gardens, they are designed to play a crucial role in the landscape. Their loveliness is functional, so that every species in the intricate, webby ecosystem has a good chance of being able to do what it’s supposed to do. Insects, for example, must be everywhere—to eat the foliage of plants that they share an evolutionary history with and subsequently provide for those higher on the food chain, to pollinate flowers, and to do countless other jobs.
The functional beauty that’s found in nature’s intimate connections can be in your yard, too. Even average backyards are host to amazing numbers of species, but when we add native plants, biodiversity skyrockets: Studies show that native species support 29 times the wildlife that exotic species do. Of course, some nonnative species do support some wildlife, so I don’t recommend removing noninvasive exotics that currently nurture wild species (or provide food for you, or furnish an emotional connection).
When you’re ready to create new beds, replace dead or dying plants, or make over your entire yard, choose plants that belong. Instead of a maple from Asia, consider our lovely native maples. Thinking about new shrubs? Look for natives that look similar to ones that you admire with but come from a faraway place (my book has some suggestions for native plants that resemble common, exotic garden plants). When adding ground cover, choose an assortment of native ground hugging plants that might grow together in nature.
A garden’s propensity for diversity draws in both gardeners and visitors, generates appreciation and awe for natural processes, and furthers our collective ecological knowledge. In a hazelnut shell, “real” gardens stay true to the character, time, and culture of a place.
I need to stop now to get outside and enjoy what may be the last warm, dry fall weather, but I’ll keep sneaking you interesting tidbits now and then to make sure you don’t lose your appetite for more!
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November 23, 2014
A Date with a Varied Thrush
Male varied thrush © 2014 Richard P. Weber
It’s unmistakably autumn when the strikingly beautiful varied thrush begins appearing in Pacific Northwest yards, parks, and natural areas. That’s varied, as in Ixoreus naevius, though I’ve also seen various other thrushes – Swainson’s and hermit – feeding in residential areas from time to time. The scientific name given to this robin-sized bird comes from the Greek ixos, which means “mistletoe,” and oros for “mountain” and the Latin naevius, which translates to “spotted or varied.” If my math is correct, that adds up to “varied berry-loving mountain” bird, or some such.
Since reading the State of the Birds 2014 report I’ve felt a twinge of anxiety about whether or not I’d see them this year, as I have each fall and winter since I began creating our “real” garden. Sadly, the varied thrush is one of 33 species included on the list of “Common Birds in Steep Decline” that have lost more than half their global populations within the past 40 years. But just a few days ago I spotted a female rummaging on the ground through the leaf litter and compost in our vegetable beds, as if she had forgotten where she put her keys. She’d grab a dry leaf in her bill, toss it aside as she hopped backwards, and then search the ground. She was looking for dinner, of course, and apparently found some tasty morsels in the form of insects or slugs that live under leaves. Varied thrushes also eat fruit and nuts (primarily acorns) during winter and I wondered when she’d return to find the rose hips, patiently dangling off my Rosa pisocarpa, as she (or her cousin) had done last year. Apples are also reportedly a favorite food in fall.
Most thrushes wear earthy colors so can be difficult to spot, but this species can be especially tough since their gorgeous plumage is reminiscent of dappled sunlight or pumpkin-colored leaves on a forest floor. And they’re timid, preferring not to be seen. Hearing one in a forest rarely helps locate one, since their ethereal, somewhat mournful voice seems to pervade the woodland. Let’s honor their need to be left alone. Sometimes it’s enough just to hear them, isn’t it?
Fall through winter, varied thrushes gather together in flocks, collectively known as a hermitage—a fitting description considering their obligation to be concealed. I’ve never seen more than three at a time in my yard, so their flocks must be a loose assemblage. In the city they act a bit bolder, coming to within 20 feet of the house to feed, as well as perch and survey in leafless trees. Their range encompasses the boreal forests of Alaska and the Yukon southward along the west coast to California and east to Alberta, Idaho, and western Montana. National Geographic records their winter range as “coastal Alaska to southern California and parts of northern Rockies,” but judging by this recent, enthusiastic news account, sightings in southern California may be somewhat rare.
The rest of the year, varied thrushes retreat to mature, misty, hushed forests dominated by tall conifers and lush ferns, and dine on mostly insects and other arthropods. Many migrate north as the days lengthen. In spring, the female creates her nest in streamside shrubs or conifers, typically 5 to 15 feet above ground. According to the Cornell Lab of Ornithology, “The female gathers nest material and weaves an outer layer of fir, hemlock, spruce, or alder twigs. She adds a middle layer with rotten wood, moss, mud, or decomposing grass, which hardens into a dense cup about 4 inches across and 2 inches deep. Finally, she lines the cup with fine grasses, soft dead leaves, and fine moss, and drapes pieces of green moss over the rim and outside of the nest.” Two to six, blue, specked eggs are laid and incubated by mom but the hatchlings are tended by both monogamous parents and fledge in about two weeks. They are fed arthropods, as are most land birds. Two broods are produced when possible.
Since these birds thrive in old growth forests, logging is having a profoundly negative impact on their numbers, as will climate change. Window strikes are also responsible for many deaths. Want to help them and see them in your yard?
~ During fall and winter, don’t rake away the leaves, twigs, bark, and such that fell from trees onto the soil.
~ If your yard was historically forest, grow the trees that likely grew there to provide food and roosting or nesting sites. In coastal B.C., Washington and Oregon, choose Sitka spruce, Douglas-fir, western hemlock or western redcedar; in northern California choose coastal redwood, Sitka spruce, and red alder.
~ Grow natives that produce fruits, nuts, or seeds to provide additional forage, such as madrone, cascara, garry oak, wild rose, huckleberry, elderberry, honeysuckle, salal, thimbleberry, and dogwood.
~ Thrushes are mainly insectivorous, so add additional native plants to supply insects.
~ Be sure birds can see your window glass, not a reflection of the sky. Some tips to help birds avoid reflective glass.
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