After working for over 10 years to convert roughly one-half acre of lawn to native plants, I still struggle with how to conceive of my planting process and goals. I like to imagine that I am creating a native plant meadow that will eventually become a natural, dynamic community that more or less takes care of itself. However, the amount of unending work required so far makes my first thought seem naive, and I have moments when I think what I am trying to do is impossible. Maybe I have simply undertaken an out-of-control gardening project that exceeds my ability to handle it.
I recently came across two books that seem very relevant to these two perspectives. The first one is The One-Straw Revolution by Masanobu Fukuoka. He was a Japanese farmer/philosopher from Shikoku Island who lived from 1913-2008 and was an articulate advocate of farming in harmony with nature. The other is Planting in a Post-Wild World by Thomas Rainer and Claudia West. These two authors offer a new modern perspective on sustainable landscaping with native plants.
Fukuoka believed that nature, being far more complex than we can comprehend, provides all that is needed for successful farming. He was appalled by the growing use of pesticides, herbicides, fertilizers, large farming equipment that scours the earth, and artificial and rigid farming techniques. He believed that man’s improved techniques badly upset the natural balance of nature and that the land has become dependent on them. Seeking alternatives, he carefully observed and experimented for many years on his own farm, always asking himself whether he really needed to take a specific action in order to farm successfully. He believed that nature already provides all that we need to grow plants, and he learned how to farm in accordance with nature’s guidelines. As a result of his work, he developed 4 principles, which he found comply with the natural order and lead to a replenishment of nature’s richness:
• No cultivation, no plowing or turning of the soil.
• No chemical fertilizer or prepared compost
• No weeding by tillage or herbicides
• No dependence on chemicals
To outsiders, his farm appeared somewhat wild and unkept. However, following these 4 principals, he was able to produce volumes of rice, wheat and oranges per acre that matched or exceeded that of the commercial farm industry. And he did it with fewer hours of work.
After reading his book, I am encouraged to ask myself the same question—what can I not do? For example, I can cut back on weeding and follow his guideline –“Weeds play their part in building soil fertility and in balancing the biological community. As a fundamental principle, weeds should be controlled, not eliminated.” If I work in harmony with nature, maybe I can succeed at creating a natural, self-sustaining plant community and eventually my workload will decline.
On the other hand, when I read Rainer and West’s book I am not so sure of my potential success. In the introduction, West talks about nature as it was before we tamed the landscape. The paradise of native plant species in the wilderness of our ancestors is completely gone, and invasive species and climate change have drastically altered our landscape. She argues that even though there are some success stories of sites being restored to a “more so-called native state,” these sites require years of heavy labor or herbicides to remove invasive species, and even once removed, the sites must be covered with new native plants to keep the invasives at bay. “To turn back the clock to the landscapes of 1600 is no longer possible. There is no going back.”
Although I have no illusions that I am re-creating an original intact native plant meadow in my yard, this assessment leaves me feeling pessimistic about my potential success at creating a natural, ungroomed, functioning plant community on my half-acre. In their book, Rainer and West go on to describe how to design gardens that function like naturally occurring plant communities and provide the natural beauty that we have lost. Although they offer wonderful ideas for a more ecologically connected landscape, the work and process involved sounds an awful lot like traditional gardening and definitely not a landscape left to its own natural, dynamic process. Maybe there is no going back.
So I seem to have come full circle and still don’t know how best to assess my yard. For now, I lean toward following Fukuoka as much as I can and see what happens. There is a great phrase used to describe his farm—“the unkept exuberance of natural growth.” I can continue to learn to see the beauty in that unkept exuberance and enjoy the mobs of bees, butterflies and hummingbirds that thrive on it. And hopefully, the amount of work will decline!