I often have to remind myself that I need to fight the urge to go negative.
I.e., I could go on and on about the sheer stupidity of new year's resolutions. About how, if something was truly important, chances are that you wouldn't wait to have it coincide with an arbitrary date on the calendar. But I'm not gonna do that. I'm going to see past the scroogey fog that permeates far too many of my thoughts, and embrace my inner optimist (I think he's in there... somewhere... probably balled up in a fetal position). After all, to set a goal you need to start somewhere. Why not January 1st? And so I join you, middle aged, out of shape housewife, who will sign an overly priced gym contract only to stop going by the second week in January, and you, overworked office drone, who will try to find some sort of work-life balance only to be immediately slammed with an unrealistic deadline. I see your mediocrity and unrealistic goals, and I raise you some plain old low-baring pragmatism. And not to out do myself, but I've decided to go with not one, but two very, very low bars: 1.) Limiting the plant bullshit (aka meaningless terms that have zero value when not used contextually) and 2.) stop prescribing over-simplistic binaries and outdated ideologies to every situation regardless of (here it comes again)... context.
A typical successional field in the northeast. Despite many non-native species that invade old agricultural lands being classified as invasive (as, indeed, most of them are), an open field is not a naturally occurring condition in northeast. Just as the habitat itself is artificially created, there is a small percentage of these exotic species that are just as equally "artificially" classified as invasive, as they simply can not persist in a "naturally" occurring woodland.
low bar #1: LIMITING THE PLANT BULLSHIT
I've gotten pretty tired of the word "native." It gives the not so convincing illusion of being specific while actually doing the opposite. So obviously, my profession (landscape architecture), is all over it. It's verbiage heroine and we just can't seem to get enough. We sprinkle it liberally whenever discussing plant selection to try to convince our less informed clients that we actually know what we're talking about. The word, when not applied specifically, is so general as to be meaningless. It creates a false sense of value that can, and often is, misleading. So not only will I do my best to avoid this word in the future, but when I do feel the urge to use, I plan on getting my fix by swapping it out with "endemic" instead. "Endemic", unlike "native" not only implies, but often requires a specificity that leaves less room for the BS. I'm hoping I can quit the habit... We'll see.
low bar #2: STOP SUBSCRIBING TO OVER-SIMPLISTIC BINARIES AND IDEOLOGIES. THERE ARE NO BAD PLANTS, JUST STUPID, SUPERFICIAL, SHORT SIGHTED PEOPLE.
People like to, uuuum... ?peoplefy? things that have no business being, uuuum... ?peoplefied?. We seem to have a problem as a species dumping our emotional baggage onto everything we possibly can, even when its totally unwarranted and nonsensical. Not only does this mask the actual issues that they're mixed up in, but always makes dealing with them that much more complicated. If one can ever actually dig through all the layers of emotion we've ever so diligently flung into the plant world and contextualize each individual species (where did the plant come from?, where is it being planted?, and what history does it have in the area?) and look at them through a functional lens (what niche does this plant occupy in its natural habitat?, what niche could it occupy in local surrounding habitats? how likely is it to persist in surrounding habitats?, and what potential does it have to disrupt local ecosystems?) then suddenly making decisions becomes a lot easier.
These 2 goals should not be misconstrued as providing an excuse to be horticulturally negligent, simply a recognition that painting everything with the same broad strokes never turns out well in the long run. When you can plant locally endemic (see that... already with the follow through) species, you should, but when you can't, just be sensible about it.
IMAGE SOURCE: LEFT, RIGHT
The unfortunate reality is, particularly in my neck of the totally mixed up woods, is that since the first european settlement the entire ecology of the region has been entirely reformulated. Nearly every square inch of my state has, at one time or another, had a human hand up in it. Plants have been cleared, burned, introduced, re-introduced, disturbed, managed, and all around jumbled up. My point being is that the proverbial cat has long been out of the bag, so we should at the very least acknowledge that in the language we use to discuss related issues.
So to recognize this fact and to show my commitment to both of my goals I figured I'd make a list of a few of the naturalized, non-native *gasp* weedy species that have endeared themselves to me over the years and embedded themselves into the fabric of the landscape of where I live and grew up. In my region (northeast MA/southern NH... again context) these plants have found relatively benign niches in the neglected and disturbed places where others dare tread. Many of these "exotics" have been here for a few hundred years at least and have seem to have merged fairly harmoniously in the messy matrix of human dependent habitats that now dominate the landscape.
Cichorium intybus - Common Chicory
Zones 4-9
The commonality of this plant never seems to detract from the sky blue hues of the flowers. The only downside is the flowers wilt and collapse by mid-day.
Purchase from: American Meadows, Everwilde Farms, Pantry Garden Herbs, Outside Pride, Victory Seeds, Dreer Creek Seed, Seed Corner
Echium vulgare - Viper's Bugloss or Blueweed
Zones 4-8
Another common plant with uncommonly blue flowers. Unlike chicory, it won't tolerate clay. A lover of dry sterile soil.
Purchase from: Seedaholic, Plant World Seeds, Ebay
Lychnis flos-cuculi - Ragged Robin
Zones 4(3)-9
Perhaps the most beautiful (and well behaved) of all the plants that have naturalized in the northeast. The individual flowers look a bit like a snowflakes, and the plants in mass have a beautiful frothy look about them. Pink is the default, but if you want to take full advantage of the snowflakey look, white forms (L. flos-cuculi 'Alba') are offered as well.
Purchase from: Plant World Seeds, The Thyme Garden Herb Company
Ranunculus acris - Tall Buttercup
Zones 4-8
There might be some of you out there who don't think the lowly buttercup is worth much of a mention, but despite continually weeding it from oh so many a garden, its flowers never fail to give my mood a little boost. The lowly plant has followed people around long enough for there to be a few cultivars making the rounds. I recently discovered 'Citrinus', pictured above.
Purchase from: Plant World Seeds, Jelitto
Vicia cracca - Bird Vetch or Cow Vetch
Zones 4-8
An exuberant herbaceous perennial vine. Spreads aggresively via underground runners. Very similar to Hairy Vetch (Vicia villosa) but grows in a much wider range of soils.
Purchase from: Bonanza
IMAGE SOURCES: L. flos-cuculi (LEFT, RIGHT); R. acris (LEFT, RIGHT)
