Tiger swallowtails flutter over the phlox. Spangled fritillaries, Monarchs, Viceroys, scores of adorable little bumblebees, honeybees, dragonflies, wasps, cardinals, warblers, and more flit around my weedy vegetable/herb/pollinator gardens. A hummingbird, clearly curious, thrums at my shoulder like a distant outboard while I clip basil. It’s wonderfully satisfying; a sign that even though it’s far from ‘perfect,’ I’m doing something right.
This time of year, many people start to think about end-of-season garden chores, the beginning of fall ‘cleanup’ prior to ‘putting the garden to bed.’ This year, consider letting the garden put itself to bed.
Like ‘Leave the Leaves’ in fall, Save the Stems is an initiative designed to preserve habitat for all these critically important and threatened creatures. Plus, it cuts fall garden chores.
“I talk to clients about this all the time,” says Paul Drummond, landscape architect and owner of Wallin Organic Farm in Warwick, MD. “It could be an aesthetic choice, but that choice has a ripple effect through your own ecosystem in your own backyard.”
Clear-cutting everything is like packing up and carting off the tent just when all those who need it most are looking for food and lodging.
“When I was still doing mostly annuals, one winter I looked out there and thought: It’s so barren!” says Nancy Lawson, author of The Humane Gardener and Wildscape (Princeton Architectural Press). “There’s not much for the animals, and not much for me to look at. But I had planted switchgrass, and there were all these sparrows in it. I realized that’s what I need to do. Watching birds and squirrels eat in a natural fashion instead of going to a feeder – it’s more rewarding,” she says. (It’s also cheaper).
We still think of ‘showtime’ in our gardens, the blooming moment when everything is ready for its spread in House Beautiful. But real gardens, like people, have seasons. A time to dig in and grow roots, times when they shine, and times when they are being quietly, often invisibly but abundantly productive. Autumn and winter stems, seed heads – especially of native species – canes, and brush piles comprise the quiet but essential habitat that enables bees, caterpillars, (many of which morph into butterflies and moths), birds, both migratory and resident, and more to survive and return year after year.
“Some bees hibernate in hollow tubes,” Drummond notes, “So, if we keep a manicured garden with no food or places to nest, [it’s a desert].”
According to the Xerces Society for Invertebrate Conservation, the primary habitat features used by pollinators and other insects include stems and branches of trees, shrubs, and wildflowers; leaf litter; undisturbed and bare ground; brush piles, and rock piles. Thirty percent of native bees need narrow tunnels or other tiny spaces in dead wood, hollow stems, or brush piles.
“The Xerces Society has a really great guide with plant species and the insects,” says Kathy Thornton, Natural Lands Project Field Technician at Washington College’s Center for Environment and Society. “And it provides a little context.”
So, instead of an autumn clear-cut, consider relaxing with a mug of tea (or something) and watching.
“I recommend leaving things standing as long as you can,” Thornton says. “Ideally through the winter. And resist that urge to cut things down until late March, early April. In spring, if you cut back 8-24 inches, it can still leave stems for any overwintering insects.”
It may take some getting used to for people who think that fall ‘cleanup’ is required housekeeping. HOA’s are often no help, though some are learning.
“Adkins Arboretum is offering a presentation to encourage HOA communities to leverage their purses for what they would use for annuals and instead promote perennial natives, which are better for the environment and will cost less in the long term,” says Thornton.
It’s partly about seeing through new eyes.
“The idea of meadows worries some people,” Drummond says. “They think leaving it up leaves it unruly, but if it’s done in a thoughtful design, it’s part of the tapestry of your garden.”
And it creates four season interest.
“Broom sedge and little bluestem have gorgeous color into fall and even in winter,” notes Thornton. “And seed heads like Echinacea and Rudbeckia can be really pretty. It really breaks up the landscape, and it feels a lot more cozy than if you had everything cut back to the ground.”
Lawson has seen firsthand the multi-pronged benefits.
“One winter, a bad one snow-wise, we had feeders up, but the goldfinches weren’t going to the feeders,” she remembers. “They were going to the wild bergamot, and they were doing all kinds of gymnastics to get to the seeds, which was so much fun to watch. It’s gotta be more stimulating for them too, being able to forage.”
If you’re on board with the ecological benefits of what amounts to full-circle gardening but still don’t like the look of dead stems or half-eaten seed heads along the front walk, there are options.
“You can remove the seed heads if you want, but you can leave them by the plant on the ground so insects and birds can still find them,” says Drummond. “You could incorporate them into a ‘dead hedge,’ a dedicated spot in your yard where you’re putting leaf debris, seed heads, seed pods. You can make it into a wattle fence, or a squared compost fence, and that’s the place where insects and birds can forage, nest, and live away from your cool garden. You’re ticking all the boxes: you’re aesthetically pleasing yourself; and you’re giving an essential food source that would be cut off from wildlife if we don’t leave it for them to find.”
Fortunately, people have begun to understand and gravitate to this new aesthetic. Drummond, who practiced in New York City, says he’s encouraged by the upsurge of interest in fall and winter gardens here.
“I’m working more and more locally with clients, which has been nice, and ninety percent is fall planting design – people seeking ideas,” he says. “It’s been great.”
*Thornton is speaking at Maryland Native Plant Society’s annual conference at Washington College this coming weekend Sept 6-7. In person registration. Virtual attendance registration.
RESOURCES:
Maryland Department of Natural Resources Fueling Fall Pollinators
Longtime journalist, essayist, and garden writer Nancy Taylor Robson is also the author of four books: Woman in The Wheelhouse; award-winning Course of the Waterman; A Love Like No Other: Abigail and John Adams, a Modern Love Story; and OK Now What? A Caregiver’s Guide to What Matters, which she wrote with Sue Collins, RN.
Longtime journalist and essayist Nancy Taylor Robson is also the author of four books: Woman in The Wheelhouse; award-winning Course of the Waterman; A Love Like No Other: Abigail and John Adams, a Modern Love Story; and OK Now What? A Caregiver’s Guide to What Matters, which she wrote with Sue Collins, RN.
Wendy Wander says
This is a great article! Most of us were brought up to think a manicured lawn is pretty. Educating the public about these disadvantages of these “insect deserts” is key.
Nancy Taylor Robson says
Thanks, Wendy. The University-informed Master Gardeners (who get highlighted every chance I get) are all about educating people about what the research and science tells us to do to help heal the world in which we live. I’m heartened by the number of people, especially in younger generations, who understand and act on the knowledge and our increasing understanding.
Liz Sipala says
Thanks Nancy,
I feel better about my unruly garden right now. Great article!
Nancy Taylor Robson says
Thanks, Liz. You as a Master Gardener know that unruly is only in the eye of the beholder. I bet the critters and birds and pollinators love it.
Joy Mayfield says
Thank you for keeping us informed, Nancy, and spreading the word as we unlearn practices from the past that were for OUR benefit only. Far better that we gardeners see ourselves as a part of our garden, just another species drawn to it, in fact, and not apart.
Nancy Taylor Robson says
Love this, Joy.