Weeds

Many of the plants we are encouraging to grow in the Parkridge Butterfly Meadow are what one might consider weeds. In fact, the plant we are cultivating most passionately is called "Butterfly Weed," a native perennial with orange blossoms especially rich in nectar. I noticed the pots at Stanley's Greenhouse, where we bought the specimens planted in the meadow, were labeled "Butterfly Flower," possibly to avoid that uncomfortable word, "weed."

I like weeds, though.The subtle blossoms and rangy habits of an unweeded bed are interesting and beautiful to me. The more I learn about how one weed or another fits into their ecological niche, providing food or habitat for specific insects and animals, the more valuable they seem. Then I start to think it's the Queen Anne's Lace growing unbidden in a bed in front of a public building that should stay, and the little green meatballs of boxwood, a food desert, should be ripped out and tossed on the burn pile.

With that said, there are some "weeds" we are bent on eradicating from the meadow.

Bermuda Grass, which I have mentioned before. Here it is, frying on the pavement.

One of my earliest memories is of walking across a cornfield in North Alabama, trying to figure out which plant was corn and which was Johnson grass. (My mother had said I could stomp on the Johnson grass, but not the corn.) Johnson grass, with its glossy leaves and resemblance to corn, presents a wholesome picture. But do not be fooled. It is highly invasive and contains cyanide which can kill an animal that eats too much of it. 

One way to identify Johnson grass is from the purple streaks on its leaves.

Poison Ivy. A good friend just told me that at her campsite at Bonnaroo this year, she saw a mated pair of rare red-headed woodpeckers living in a tree and eating poison ivy berries. I have never in my life seen a red-headed woodpecker and would be ecstatic to have one living in our neighborhood. Poison ivy provides food for many rare and wonderful birds and insects. Years ago this same friend said I should think about poison ivy differently, as a protector of the woods, growing along the edge and keeping out intruders.

Fair enough. But the meadow is intended for animals and people. And, as I type this my fingers are covered with itchy red blisters, a reaction to brushing up against poison ivy. Poison ivy has sent me to the hospital for steroid shots, prevented me from playing in the woods as a kid, and discouraged me from pursuing a Botany major. I really, really don't like it.

My grudge against poison ivy is so fierce, that I broke a personal rule of mine and sprayed it with herbicide, especially near the paths. If it's any consolation to the poison ivy supporters, I think it will be hard to get rid of.

Meadow in Bloom

With all the rain and sun of the past week the flowers in the Butterfly Meadow have really popped into bloom!

The Cosmos have done the best of the flowers from the mix we sowed on the bare clay.  Cosmos are a good source of nectar for adult butterflies. We have seen many Cabbage White butterflies flitting around the pink blossoms.

This small flower is called Self Heal. We did not plant it, but found it growing in the meadow. It's a member of the mint family, edible, and considered a useful herb in treating a variety of human ailments. The USDA cautions that it can be "weedy or invasive" but also notes it's "a valuable addition to a wildflower meadow or butterfly garden." (usda.gov) This touches on an issue we've talked to death among ourselves: What to kill? What to keep? In the end, we are keeping some non-native or even invasive species that are also food sources for beneficial insects.

A pink rose we pruned and are keeping, just for the hell of it.

Queen Anne's Lace, another species from Eurasia, naturalized in North America hundreds of years ago. One of my favorite flowers, and a food source for bees and butterflies, especially the Black Swallowtail.

 Bush Morning Glory, supposed to attract hummingbirds and butterflies.

We bought several species of clover from Knox Seed to sow in the meadow. Clover is a nectar source for bees and the leaves are food for some butterfly larva. Clover is a nitrogen fixer and helps build topsoil. This is especially beneficial in eliminating the bare clay areas in the meadow.

 Flea bane, a native perennial.

Yellow dock seeds, nutritious for birds and humans.

I asked Brian Campbell, horticulturist at the Knoxville Botanical Gardens and instigator of the Butterfly Conservation Meadow, to list his top three must-have flowers. He listed butterfly weed, echinacea (or purple cone flower), and asters in general, especially late-blooming species so that insects and birds can have that food source for as long as possible.

We are propagating echinacea now, and are on the lookout for butterfly weed and members of the asteraceae family.

Ordinary Magic of Birds

A few weeks ago my four-year-old climbed the star magnolia tree in the meadow and reported that there was a nest with two blue eggs in it. The upper-most branches are too thin to support anyone but her, so we had to take her word for it.

A week later she climbed the tree again and said the eggs were gone, replaced with weird-looking pink things.

"Are they cute?" I asked.

"No, Mom. Not cute at all."

From the ground we watched the parents (robins) fly to the nest carrying worms in their beaks.

A few days later, she called down that the baby birds were fluffy and feathery.

Then we went out of town. When we returned, the nest was empty.

When we were sure the robins weren't coming back, she retrieved the nest and climbed down one-handed.

When a bird weaves a nest--this clever little object--with mud, straw, and strips of plastic, I want to say it's like magic, because it happens without visible human input, and inspires a sense of wonder. But it's kind of the opposite of magic. A nest, a clutch of eggs, and then a bird family do not appear whole cloth out of thin air--they are the results of steady work, and all connected to the earth.

My children have shown me the mysterious other-ness of the natural world is everywhere. In our scruffy sub-tropical city full of untidy corners, they don't have to look hard to find it.

Parkridge Butterfly Meadow in the news

Our local paper did a nice write-up of the Butterfly Meadow!  Terry Shaw, the author of the piece, lives in the neighborhood and sometimes walks his dog in the meadow.