We all know that dandelions, clover, and buttercups grow in lawns. Unfortunately, none of them are native. It’s important to understand that lawns nurture native plants, too. They are “hidden in plain sight.” The upshot: We don’t have to visit a garden center to find native plants. We can protect what we have.
Why protect and promote native plants?
When it comes to helping pollinators and wildlife, you don’t have to buy plants or dig a garden. Anyone can help when they adopt some of the ideas put forward by the International Dark-Sky Association (IDA). Better yet, we can all petition our cities and towns to do the same.
Who'd have thought the growing season, and pollinator season, of southern New England starts this early? But it does.
First, there's that funky swamp-life called skunk cabbage. The odiferous blossoms smell mighty good to particular flies and beetles. Those flies offer something to the skunk cabbage, too--pollination.
A long time ago, I saw a tag on a teabag that read, “Calming tea for a nervous world.” I don’t know who wrote that line, but I never forgot it.
I’ve been drinking a lot of tea lately. Luckily I’ve also found a local podcaster, a regional blog, and a book about a neighboring town that help keep me grounded in the workings of the natural world.
According to the Connecticut Trail Census, our small state has more than 2,000 miles of recreational trails. Those are a lot of miles but, until a few years ago, no one was counting trail usage within the state.
In 2016, though, the Connecticut Trail Census pilot program launched. (See cttrailcensus.uconn.edu.)
It’s a sunny 40 degrees outdoors. You decide to take a walk in the woods. It’s winter. Does that guarantee a tick-free walk?
In search of a good documentary, something that both teaches and entertains? I recently reviewed four that I consider well worth the time of anyone interested in plants, landscapes, nature, and ecology.
Suzanne Thompson didn’t wake up on the first day of 2020 thinking about Japanese knotweed. But, after all, it is 2020—and stranger things have happened than the turn Thompson took in May of this year, when she founded an all-volunteer campaign to fight back at that awful plant.
Says Thompson, “We don’t spray it. We cut it.” Then she adds, “We starve it.”
They were innocent-looking seedlings in June, but by the end of August, most weeds are like toddlers on a tantrum—you can't ignore them. Japanese stiltgrass, mugwort, and more all seem to say, "In your face, weed whacker.”
After almost three years of planning and planting, the meadow was coming into its own. The grasses were finally tall and healthy. Flowering plants lit up the field. As a finishing touch, an inviting new walking path had just been created.