How many plant species live in your backyard? How many are
native? How many provide food for you or for birds, pollinators, and other
non-human persons—or for everyone? I am not a trained scientist, but I sometimes
hang out with biologists, and one thing they like to do is count things,
especially living things. One reason is to assess the health of a place, on the
principle that the more biodiversity, the better. I’m no permaculturalist,
either—no official certificate—though I have polyculture beds and am deeply
influenced by the design philosophy and methods. The basic idea is to work with
natural systems and imitate their function when establishing a food garden.
Again, the more biodiversity, the better.
However, it had never occurred to me to do a backyard
species count until I read Eric Toensmeier’s
Paradise Lot, an ebullient book
about urban permaculture so full of enthusiasm that if you are fortunate enough
to have a backyard, you will immediately want to try out some of what he’s
doing. He writes about biodiversity and the benefits of a garden full of
diverse species and mentions at one point that when people have asked how many
species he and his gardening partner Jonathan Bates have, he doesn’t know. Then
when he does a count, he comes up with something like 185 different species.
More or less, in a small backyard roughly analogous to mine in size.
Inspired by this, I went on a field trip out back to do my
own species survey. I knew I had “lots of species” (a term of art), and an actual
count came up with between 100 and 120. More or less. More if one counts the
seeds I’ve just planted, and the prairie plants I know are there, but haven’t
quite emerged from their torpor, less if the seeds don’t take, or the prairie
plants have indeed been winter killed. Of the total, half are native. The half
that aren’t include weeds that I keep at more or less manageable levels but
have never quite eliminated. Every plant provides food and/or shelter for
someone. Perhaps a quarter provide food for the human residents. When one
counts also affects the totals. Spring ephemerals go dormant. There are, at the
moment, hundreds of cotyledons that haven’t declared their allegiance in the
form of a second set of leaves (though one can make an educated guess in most
cases). You always miss something. Besides time, this exercise depends on
memory, and like all things botanical, the result is more approximate than
definite.
More than 100 separate species, then. Not too bad,
considering, for example, the fact that most of the backyards in my
neighborhood might have only ten or twenty species, and all non-native, at that.
These are, in my opinion, what might be called ecological deserts, analogous to
those urban neighborhoods termed food deserts. Many of the species in these
yards may be “ornamental,” and the yards themselves neat and green, but they are
not biologically beautiful or elegant, since by definition these terms require
good ecological functioning and an ability to help support other living
species.
The numbers tell other stories, too. In general, I prefer
native species. That half the species are non-native is because when I started
to add natives, I did so gradually, as I had funds, and will not pull out (that
is, kill) a non-native that is good looking, useful, and non-invasive. That half
the species are still non-native also reflects that many things I like to eat,
such as parsley, basil, chard, radishes, lettuce, and tomatoes came from
elsewhere. The numbers change over time: new species volunteer, I add new
plants and regretfully (mostly) remove others. I can’t say I was sorry when I
finally vanquished the bishop’s goutweed I inherited from the previous owner.
This year I removed a sweet autumn clematis that was more than adequately
demonstrating its invasive tendencies. Also this year I’m putting in some
American currants and more raspberries. Next spring, after I’ve learned more
about the subject, I plan to put a dwarf espalier fruit tree on the fence where
the clematis was.
What should the balance be among plant species? It’s hard to
know. There are six species of berries. Pollinators love the flowers. Two kinds of berries are only for birds and squirrels.
We more or less share the other four. I will put in more prairie plants and may
put in more native berries or try out some different non-native vegetables and
herbs. I cannot imagine ever reducing the number voluntarily. Perhaps there
should be some sort of species count competition among backyard gardeners, with
an emphasis on native plants and ecological health, and including local and
regional championships. Perhaps that would help people take advantage of the
wonderful opportunities inherent in their backyards. What I know is, I feel
sure I’ll catch up with Eric Toensmeier soon. Maybe. More or less.
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Comments
The book looks really interesting, too.
Thanks for the charming discussion.
I guess it depends on how methodical you are, and what your purpose is. My list may or may not get kept; probably it will be stuck in a folder somewhere. Paradise Lot is very good--it gives an enlightening, creative approach to food gardening.
will check out this read.
thanks
I agree, one does pay closer attention that way. Date-of-bloom lists are very useful, as well, for historical and phenological purposes.
Yes, sometimes even if you've planned a garden meticulously, after a few years you don't always know what you really have. Sort of like those items at the back of the pantry?
We've lived here for about 7 1/2 years, and I'm trying to restore what was essentially horribly overgrazed pasture to some semblance of ecological functioning. Originally it was all tallgrass prairie. (We're in south central Kansas.)
I can imagine keeping track of ten acres could be daunting. I hope the restoration is going well.
Now if you're talking mushrooms...yeah, I should not have neglected them, starting with the stinkhorns that show up after it rains.