Life in Unlikely Places


Two days ago, I planted a small Bahama cassia (Senna mexicana var. chapmanii) in front of my new home. The plant was a gift from a dear friend and the location is a place that needs something other than the lifeless non-natives that now line it. I have never understood "foundation plantings." They are theoretically installed to increase the property value of one's home, but I would pay my landlords for the privilege of removing the planting that currently lines the outer edge of my front porch.
My foundation planting is comprised of three medium-sized Schlefflera arboricola anchored at each end by very scrawny non-native boxwoods. They have absolutely no value here for wildlife. They are simply evergreen and easy to maintain. Someday, I hope to replace them with something that will add life to my landscape, but I'll approach my landlords about this once I've done a few more things that are a higher priority. There is no need to overwhelm them so soon.
Previous residents must have thought that they were doing the planting good by covering the surface with a layer of lava rock - another concept that escapes me except when one lives next to a volcano.  Weeds emerge from beneath this rock, but they are difficult to pull without first pulling the rock away from the base of the plant.  The lava rock is not a labor-saving addition here and it is another nuisance that I intend to rid my landscape of someday.
The evergreen cassia will eventually fill in the 4-foot gap at the end of this narrow planting area. Its location will screen a view from my porch that is best screened, but it won't unduly shade the plants I've added at the other end of the schleffleras.  Unless we have a severe freeze, it will bloom all year and that will attract the attention of three sulfur butterfly species that are relatively common in this region of Florida. Time will tell if any of them find my house in this nearly lifeless suburban landscape that now engulfs my home, however. I'm betting they will.
I never cease to be amazed, however, at the tenacity of nature even in such settings. Wildlife often find a way to make use of the "rends and tears" that form in the fabric of otherwise sterile urban developments.  Species manage to eke out an existence given the smallest of chances to do so and they wait for us to give them more to work with.
Case in point is this beautiful tiny ringneck snake that I uncovered when I pulled the lava rock away to plant my cassia. I first had to move a clay pot that was sitting on top of it. As I did so and used my hand to sweep the rock to one side, I exposed this snake. Its presence tells me that I have insects in my soil and that the previous tenants did not routinely poison this yard with the assistance of a lawn-chemical company. It also tells me that even the small changes I make now will have real impacts.
Where I live, homeowners frequently bury their yards with rock and all-but-eliminate their vegetation in a mistaken belief that they will make it impossible for "wildlife" to live near them - defined more often than not by "snakes."  My little ringneck snake proves that nature is tenacious despite our efforts to limit it. I am thrilled to share my new landscape with him/her and I hope to increase the diversity of species living with me in the days, months and years ahead. I'll keep you posted. Thanks for joining me.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Ethics of Collecting Seed

Image
I've been writing lately about seeds and using them to create what is often called a pollinator meadow. A great many of the plants in my new landscape were grown from seed. Frankly, I have always loved sowing seeds and watching them sprout. I started in early childhood and I've been doing it since. It's rewarding and the anticipation of waiting for seeds to sprout is difficult to match unless you play the lottery. I rarely purchase seeds. I collect them. When I can, I purchase a few plants of a species I wish to add to my landscape and I then collect their seed after they bloom. If a plant doesn't prosper sufficiently to set seed for me, it is not a plant I wish to continue to grow. Over the years, I've tried a great many plants that I've failed to adequately provide for. Today in my landscape, I'm trying a few that I've never tried before. The exceptions come from plants that are not available in the trade. To grow these from seed, I need to collect
Read more

Wildflower Meadows - The Importance of Grasses

Image
A Natural Wildflower "Meadow" - Apalachicola National Forest I grew up in the prairie Midwest and was fortunate to have been caught up in the prairie restoration movement that blazed brightly in the last few decades of this past century. Very little of our original prairie ecosystems remain as the rich prairie soils were quickly converted to agricultural uses as European settlers swarmed their way over the continent.  These ecosystems are extremely diverse, regardless of where they occur. From the tall-grass prairies of the Midwest to the rockland prairies of the Mid-South and the true dry prairie systems here in Florida where I now reside, there are several universal characteristics - they are some of the most species diverse systems in the world and they are dominated by grasses. Grasses, in all their many shapes and forms, are what form the foundation of any "meadow." That must also be true for all the "wildflower meadows" I see extolled on s
Read more

A Pollinator Garden is More than Wildflowers

Image
A natural grass-dominated meadow in the shade Splitbeard bluestem - Andropogon ternarius Lopsided Indiangrass - Sorghastrum secundum Sites on social media that are promoting pollinator gardens are rife with posts about wildflowers. Folks seeking to make their landscapes pollinator friendly seem to be almost-universally focused on wildflowers. What these well-meaning people seem to not understand is the importance of native grasses. Meadows, prairies, and other wildflower-dominated systems are mostly grass. Grasses form the backbone of every one of these plant communities. It isn't the wildflowers. They simply provide most of the color - but a living landscape is not about color, it's about creating habitat, and this habitat requires us to incorporate native grasses. It is true that the vast majority of grasses, and their graminoid relatives, are wind pollinated. They do not provide nectar and pollen for the most part, but despite that they are significant. More s
Read more