Picture
by Kim Antieau

I recently went back to school for a year to get a graduate certificate in sustainable food systems and permaculture design at Antioch University in Seattle. One of the most valuable lessons I learned during this year was to question my assumptions about pretty much everything, especially my assumptions about environmental work. 

I've been an activist since I was a child on the playground trying to keep boys from smashing killdeer eggs in their nests on the ground on the playground that had once been a farmer's field. Before it was a farmer's field, it most likely had been a meadow or a forest.
For most of my life, my activism has not resulted in any positive changes. I'm very practical, and I want to do what works. Permaculture was made for someone like me. Observation is a key to successful permaculture. And questioning our assumptions is another key to permaculture--maybe a key to many successful enterprises. 

 This weekend, I attended a workshop on attracting pollinators with native plants. I had to leave halfway through because of another commitment, so I didn't learn the names of any specific native plants to attract pollinators. (Perhaps that came later.) I did hear three speakers talk about the value of planting native plants. 

I used to be a dyed in the wool, native-plants-all-the-time gal. Then I began questioning my assumptions, and I did some research. I still believe it is wise to garden with native plants as much as possible, but I squirm a bit when the discussion turns to native plants vs. (so-called) invasive plants. Invariably when proponents of using native plants have difficulty removing an "exotic" plant from an area, they recommend using chemical pesticides. That's what happened at the workshop this weekend: Two speakers recommended using chemical pesticides on so-called invasive species.

This was alarming to me. (OK, honestly, it was appalling to me.) I watched audience members busily scribbling down the name of the pesticide that would help them eliminate their "problem" plants.

The whole focus of the workshop was about attracting pollinators so that the pollinators remain healthy and part of the ecosystem. Study after study has shown that certain chemical herbicides also kill beneficial insects and are harmful to birds. Even if the herbicide spares insects, chemical pesticides are not healthy for the environment or the human beings and animals living in the environment. (I could write a book about this topic since I have been researching and working to stop chemical pesticide use for nearly thirty years. Instead, I'll recommend you check out the Northwest Coalition for Alternatives to Pesticides. They have lots of practical fact sheets to help you with specific pest problems, plus you can email or call them.)

Most permaculturists don't buy into the native vs. invasive argument. The words used in these discussions are often inflammatory. Plants that are not considered native are called "invasive" or "exotic." Toby Hemenway likes to use the word "opportunistic," rather than "invasive." 

The definition of what a native plant is can also get problematic. What qualifies as a native plant? One that has been in an area a thousand years? Four hundred? A hundred? 

Something about the arguments for native plants has always made me a bit queasy, even when I was a proponent of all native all the time. A plant was only worthwhile and acceptable if it was native? If all of its ancestors had been from a particular place and had grown there for thousands of years it was welcome? (I'm not certain plant ancestors are actually called ancestors, but you get the idea.) If a plant wasn't from here (wherever here was) it was considered alien and not welcome.

I am not native to the land where I live. My ancestors come from what is now called Ireland, France, and Germany. The honey bee is not native to these lands. Our honey bee genome is a mix of three introduced subspecies from Europe. 

But let's not get too deep into that argument, at least not yet. Let's just consider the facts about plants and how they exist. They travel. Since the beginning of their existence on our planet, plants have endeavored to find new places to live; their pollen and seeds hitched a ride on the wind, on winged pollinators, and in the stomachs of a variety of wild animals. Later on they also began hitching rides on the soles of human beings, in the holds of ships, and on trains, planes, and automobiles.

In other words, plants have always moved from one part of the planet to another. 

Here's another thing to think about. Permies are nothing if not practical. We learn from Nature instead of fighting with her. Constantly pulling or spraying weeds is futile. Spraying might be a quick fix, but if the conditions in the environment remain the same, the same plants will return. 

For instance, I live in town in a rented house. The yard does not belong to me, so I can't do with it what I want. Dandelions, Queen Anne's Lace, and sometimes plantain have a field day in our lawn. (We don't care, but the neighbors do.) 

It would never occur to me to use herbicides or chemical fertilizers on my lawn. I know how toxic they are and how dangerous they are to my health and the health of any person or animal who would happen to be on my lawn. I also wouldn't do it because it would be futile. My lawn is in the sun, the soil is packed and poor, and no other plants grow there except some grass. (Dandelion and Queen Anne's Lace are great aerators, by the way, and plantain removes toxins from the soil.)

We mow our lawn (with an electric mower). If we didn't have so many dogs and cats in our neighborhood, I would use all three of the aforementioned plants medicinally and for food. (I'm not sure why growing dandelions in my yard is forbidden, but neighbors' dogs and cats are allowed to roam free to defecate on my lawn and in my garden and compost.) 

We mow, and the plants return. We know this will happen. We only mow because we're required to do so because we live in town. We know this about Nature: Opportunistic plants will return unless the environment changes no matter how much people mow, spray, pull, or cut. 

Toby Hemenway, in Gaia's Garden: A Guide to Home-Scale Permaculture, writes, "When humans make a clearing, nature leaps in, working furiously to rebuild an intact humus and fungal layer, harvest energy, and reconstruct all the cycles and connections that have been severed. A thicket of fast-growing pioneer plants, packing a lot of biomass into a small space, is a very effective way to do this...If we clear out the thicket in the misguided belief that meadows should forever remain meadows even under heavy irrigation, or that all forest edges should have tidy, open understories, we are just setting the recovery process back. Nature will then relentlessly return to work, filling in with pioneer plants again. And she doesn't care if a nitrogen fixer or a soil-stabilizing plant arrived via continental drift or a bulldozer's treads, as long as it can quickly stitch a function ecosystem together." (p. 14.)

This is my long way of saying that it's always a good choice to observe Nature when we are gardening or working with the land. From observation we can better determine why something is happening. Once we know the why, we can usually figure out the solution. 

The best solution is usually not the quick-fix. If you don't want blackberries on your property, cut them right to the ground (again and again) and plant trees to eventually shade them out. In the meantime, harvest the berries for food and the leaves and roots for medicinal uses.

Right now I'm reading a subversive little book called Invasive Plant Medicine: The Ecological Benefits and Healing Abilities of Invasives by Timothy Lee Scott. He and Stephen Harrod Buhner talk about how plants seem to be showing up where their medicine is most needed. Japanese knotweed is "invasive" in places where lyme disease is endemic. Japanese knotweed actually kills the lyme spirochetes. Several other invasive plants have also been used successfully to treat lyme disease: barberry, dandelion, teasel, plantain, and Japanese honeysuckle.

I don't think plants are the problem. 

Conversations about "invasive" plant species and what to do about them often remind me of conversations I had with a friend of mine who was feeling unwell. He smoked, he did illegal drugs, he ate unhealthy food, and he worked too hard. He went to the doctor for his health issues, and the doctor suggested he change his lifestyle. He said, "No, I don't want to change anything. I want you to give me a pill so that I can continue my current lifestyle."

The doctor had no such pill. Pesticides are certainly not such a pill. Trying to eradicate all opportunistic plant species by any means necessary is not such a pill either.

Maybe it would be better for us to look around at how we've fragmented the environment. Nature keeps trying to fill the niches and vacuums we've created. We could stop fragmenting our environment so much, thereby decreasing the amount of fragmentation. We could also be cognizant of what we do and make a plan before we do create niches and vacuums. We can learn from Nature and fill those niches first with plants we find valuable.


Great local resource for native plants: 
Humble Roots Farm & Nursery, LLC, in Mosier.

Recommended reading:

Gaia's Garden by Toby Hemenway (Fort Vancouver Regional Library owns the first edition; I have asked them to get the second edition.)

Invasive Plant Medicine by Timothy Lee Scott (FVRL owns this books.)

The Secret Teachings of Plants by Stephen Harrod Buhner (or any of his books.)  FVRL does not have this book, but I have asked them to get it.

(All photographs and written material in this post are copyright © 2011 by Kim Antieau. May not be used without permission.)

 


Comments


Your comment will be posted after it is approved.


Leave a Reply