On The Wild Side

Christine Schoenemann (Maccabee) Misunderstood But Beautiful (Part 2): Tall Natives and Useful Pests I just got in from collecting Japanese beetles from wild evening primrose flowers, which are growing throughout my property. By 7:00 a.m., the bees are already busy on the yellow flowers, and the beetles are just waking up. Slowly, I knock them into a container of water, careful not to interrupt the bees. Two things are accomplished by my doing this twice a day. First, I am saving the flowers from being devoured; second, my chickens enthusiastically consume the crunchy bodies of these pests. Useful pests, I call them, providing extra protein and minerals for my birds. The wild evening primrose used to be seen in areas along roads that have not been mowed, in vacant fields and ditches if they are lucky, and in my gardens. Sadly, I saw very few of them this year beyond my gardens, due to herbiciding and lots of mowing. I imagine most homeowners would not like them due to the fact that they grow much taller than the greenhouse-cultivated primroses that most gardeners buy. Perhaps this aversion is due to an over-civilized fear of wild natives. Well, I have no fear, just curiosity. I have never seen my primroses grow as tall as they are this year, which is most likely due to all the rain that we had earlier this summer. My tallest plant towers above my head at a record-breaking height of nine feet. That’s tall! For some reason, I have a particular interest in tall, gangly, misunderstood plants. I suppose this is because I see their value for our pollinators, but mostly I believe it is because I admire them. In truth, I am blown away by the diversity of wild flora, which are indigenous to this area. I have made it my mission to preserve as much as I can here on my property and elsewhere when possible, before they become extinct. I know my worry is legitimate since every year it seems many rare plants (see list at bottom of this article) have just disappeared from places I have seen them in the past. Therefore, I am writing to clear up some misunderstandings about our interesting wild neighbors, and possibly to save them. Teasel, another plant which is normally not permitted to grow in typical gardens, can still be seen in areas along the highway and other unused places. It is not a thistle, though it looks like it. In my gardens, I pamper it. It has multiple uses, primarily as a producer of beautiful lavender flowers which bees love. It is also an interesting component in dry plant arrangements, which I make. Stately, but prickly, they are to be handled with care, preferably with a gloved hand. Presently, I am cutting some of mine down now that they have flowered, as I don’t want the seeds to scatter everywhere in my main garden where I also grow vegetables. I plan to scatter some of the seeds in the larger meadow before winter. By far the most misunderstood wildflower of all is golden rod. I have learned through my reading that it is not the pollen producer that affects most people adversely. Ragweed is the culprit, as it has very nondescript flowers and blooms at the same time as golden rod. Very sneaky of ragweed, I would say. The pollen from golden rod is too heavy to be carried very far by the wind, whereas ragweed pollen is very light. There are sixteen species of golden rod throughout our country, and I happen to have about four or more species on my property. They are beginning to bloom, and I eagerly await the show! All my various wild aster will bloom soon as well, so between the two of them, my bees and butterflies will be well fed before the killing frost. Along with all these pollinators, you can be sure I will be rejoicing as well. The other day, I nearly hit a monarch butterfly that was caught between a road, parking lots, stores, and large grass deserts with no flowers in sight. It seemed confused and did not know where to go. This is a perfect example of a growing problem called “habitat fragmentation.” Good-hearted people who plant flowers in their yards are doing a great service, but these same butterflies and bees we feed frequently must travel far and wide just to find other flowers to feed on or appropriate plants on which to lay their eggs. We all know the need of monarchs for milkweed, but there are many others, such as the larvae of the fritillary butterfly for violets, the checkerspot butterfly for turtlehead flowers, and the rare/endangered butterflies in the Blue family for clovers and lupine flowers. Lately, and even over many years, I have been reading writings by prominent mystics and naturalists who all sing a similar theme song. This song is one of praise for creation and its awesome diversity that can aid us as humans to connect more intimately with ourselves and the Creator. This goes for everyone, even atheists and agnostics, for “things in nature are optimal teachers to help us discern how to be ourselves. We have been separated from the source of our identity and have to fall in love with it all over again,” writes Belden Lane in his book Backpacking with the Saints, an amazing read full of wisdom. And so, this Sunday morning, the natural world is the temple in which I worship—today and everyday. For me, and so many others, the amazing diversity of lifeforms on this planet are not only an expression of the infinite nature of their Creator, but also an expression of amazing love, without end, unless we humans choose to continue to destroy it. We always have a choice. Note: Some local natives rarely seen and loosing habitat: purple swamp milkweed, goatsbeard, moth mullein, bergamot, blue lobelia, vervain, obedient plant, Deptford pinks, cardinal flower, wild columbine, cinquefoils, St. Johns wort, Yarrow, sweet cicely, and wild sweet clovers.