Don't Just Let Your Yard Go to Shit

Four years ago, I didn't know anything about invasive species. I'd seen the warning signs posted at trailheads in national parks, often alongside a (no-longer-functional) boot brush to get any hitchhiking seeds off your shoes before you set off into the park. And I'd heard of buckthorn and knew its presence to be vaguely bad. That's about it.

Well, I've (unfortunately) learned a lot more about invasives in the past several years since I started volunteering in my local forest preserves. I spend a lot of time cutting buckthorn/honeysuckle/privet and pulling/snipping/spraying garlic mustard, dame's rocket, valerian, teasel, celandine, and many more plants on foreign exchange visiting the preserves. And if there's one overarching lesson that I've learned, it's this: we're no longer at a point where "protecting nature" means bottling it up and letting it recuperate by itself.

Why? Well, think about how much damage we've done to the natural landscape in the U.S. since the first Europeans showed up here. Believe it or not, Louis and Clark didn't waltz into Illinois and find a preexisting patchwork of mega-farms. (Illinois wasn't part of the Louisiana Purchase; +1 to anyone who's paying attention.) What a lot of people— not me— today think of as "flyover country" was composed of incredibly diverse ecosystems like prairies, savannas, oak woodlands, etc where you might find over a hundred species of plants and animals in just one square meter. Needless to say, you can pick a point in the Midwest and it probably doesn't bear much resemblance to how it looked 300 years ago. We took that land and plowed, paved, or parceled it into oblivion.

Actually, an interesting consequence of our hyper-development of the eastern U.S. is that some natural areas were saved because of their proximity to developments. For example, Middlefork Savanna north of Chicago was never plowed or built upon partially because it falls within the half-mile right-of-way of a nearby rail line, which meant it couldn't be farmed or turned into houses. But only so many natural areas can be protected by such a fluke. Most were utterly and irreparably destroyed. Of the original 21 million acres of tallgrass prairie in Illinois, less than 0.01% remain ^[1] . Wondering what 0.01% looks like? Roughly the blue dot in the middle of this outline of Illinois:

Given the progression of the past couple hundred years, you might assume the best thing we could do for our remaining natural areas is to fence them off and keep everyone and everything out. Reasonable line of thinking. That's what was done in many places over the last several decades. The result? A ghoulish assortment of invasive plants getting their foot in the door and taking over large parts of the preserves. These species are invasive because they have some sort of competitive advantage over native plants: maybe they're more shade tolerant, or leaf out earlier in Spring, or are allelopathic and change the soil chemistry to make it less hospital to their competition. Whatever the edge, these exotic plants spread quickly (and often quite densely), hogging resources that might otherwise be used by a purple prairie clover or rue anemone. With enough time, whole acres may come to consist of only a few nonnative species.

Bottle gentian, a somewhat conservative species that you can still grow in your yard

So... yeah. "Leaving things alone" is no longer a viable option. We (more correctly: our ancestors) got ourselves into this mess, and until some futuristic day of reckoning when all invasive species are eradicated from North America, we're on the hook for the upkeep. It's kind of analogous to humanity: we've changed our surroundings and circumstances so much that we often need artificial maintenance (going to the gym, biking, whatever) to keep ourselves healthy. You don't eat 12 pounds of broccoli, run a marathon, and declare victory — you work in perpetuity towards a healthy lifestyle, knowing that this involves mindful decisions and management day in and day out.

Monarda fistulosa, AKA bee balm. I love how it looks like little fireworks when it's flowering

What were we talking about again? Oh yeah, your yard. Well, if invasive species can initiate an insurgency in a resilient, high-quality nature area, then your unmaintained yard is a fair target. I see it all the time (the curse of learning to ID invasive species)— a honeysuckle infestation in a far corner by the fence line, a solitary female buckthorn whose seeds will be carried far and wide by birds, or a thick mat of wintercreeper or periwinkle forming a groundcover on the exposed dirt out front. (That last one's often intentional, actually.) If you want to benefit the environment, abdicating control over your yard can be counterproductive. And no, for the record I don't take any joy in being the "every good thing you try to do is actually bad" guy, so I'll tell you right away what's a better alternative: stay the course with your environmentally-friendly choices, but just mind the weeds! If you see something in your yard that you don't recognize, try to figure out what it is. Thankfully, you don't need to dig through field guides for this. Smartphone apps like Seek by iNaturalist are solid at identification (or at least pointing you in the right direction) using your phone camera, and there are many places online where people are more than happy to ID things for you. So if you find something you don't recognize in your yard, first try to get a reasonably confident ID. Then, if the species is native to your area— or at least not a flight-risk into any nearby natural areas or neighbors' yards— great! If not, then it's good you caught it early, since some of these plants can be a royal pain to get rid of once they're established. With a little bit of attention, you can support pollinators and combat the spread of harmful invasive species, all within your yard.

My assumption is that most people who have invasive plants growing in their yard just aren't aware of the damage these species cause. They probably figure that, when they ease up on the mowing and stop spraying Roundup everywhere, anything that shows up in their garden is a "wildflower". (True enough, I guess.) But when an unknown plant randomly shows up in your yard, odds are that it's an invasive weed rather than a benign native.

Bonus: Plant Natives

If you're enjoying no-mow May or similar initiatives and you're wondering what else you can do to help the environment, try planting some natives in your yard! I think there's an understandable misconception that "the environment" is somewhere else— especially if you live in Midwestern suburbia, a long way from any national parks. The truth is that although your yard will never be the next Yellowstone, you can do a lot of good at home by planting some species that are native to your area. The laundry list of benefits includes:

• Providing food and habitat for many beneficial birds, insects, and critters
• Water filtration
• Low/no maintenance: if your species are in the right moisture/light/soil conditions, they won't need any continuing care
• Low cost: you can get native plant seeds for a few bucks from a reputable native nursery, or you can buy potted ready-to-plant species at a native plant sale in the spring or fall. Most native species (at least in the Midwest) are perennial, so in the right conditions they'll spread naturally and come back year after year
• Many beautiful and interesting forms and flowers
• Erosion control
• The psychological benefit of seeing nature on a daily basis and the satisfaction of watching your garden develop

C'mon, who doesn't love purple coneflowers?

And just to home in on this point, you can grow a native garden without that much work. Once you get the plants in the ground, they can take it from there, since they're adapted to your climate. No watering, fertilizing, or staking — just make sure each species will be in the right conditions before planting, and they'll likely* thrive. All I've needed to do in my garden is put up some chicken wire— my local rabbit population is ravenous— and some occasional light weeding of adventurous turf grass that likes to creep on bare soil.

*Depending on what you plant, of course. Some species are much more conservative or finicky than others.

Double Bonus: Volunteer In Your Preserves

Not satisfied with just growing things in your yard? Or don't even have a yard in the first place? There are lots of opportunities to volunteer in forest preserves (or natural areas, or whatever your township calls them). Many cities, counties, and private groups— "Friends of [X]", The Nature Conservancy, etc— have volunteer programs that are easily accessible and are always happy to welcome another pair of hands. From what I've seen, it's pretty common to have groups that meet every week or two at a given preserve, or maybe rotate through a variety of natural areas. And they offer awesome opportunities: prescribed burns, seed collecting, exploring beautiful landscapes off-trail... There's so much to do and learn, and getting involved has been one of the best and most consistently impactful decisions I can remember making. Go see what opportunities exist near you!

It's hard to replicate something like this in a suburban yard...

Thinking Long-Term

On a more philosophical level, it's so exciting how much potential there is to expand native habitat. In recent years, the public has become more well-educated about the impacts they can have on pollinators, and receptive to introducing natives to their yards. Native plant sales continue to pop up in the Spring and Fall. In Illinois, bills have been introduced/passed barring HOAs and townships from preventing residents from planting native species ^[1][2] . The tides are slowly turning. And like I said, I don't expect my yard to be the next Yellowstone, but a whole neighborhood's worth of side-yards and fencerows adds up to a significant amount of habitat. On top of that, as people become more connected to these natural micro-landscapes, I hope they'll appreciate the value and beauty in their local, well-cared-for nature preserves. An individual can make a difference, but a community shapes the future.