Native plants

A thing I’ve gotten interested in recently is gardening with native plants. Spend enough time walking around the suburbs of the Midwest and you see the recurring themes. Giant hydrangeas, endless hostas, single begonias ensconced in nine square feet of mulch. Sprinklers blasting most of the summer over brown lawns. And then you start reading about another way to do it. You can plant things that actually developed in the place you live and which want to grow there. Things which serve a function in their local ecosystem. And they look good, too!

Native plants are cool for both ecological and aesthetic reasons, and I actually think there’s a deep affinity between the two.¹ Aesthetically, it’s not that they’re all these weedy-looking perennials; they flower like anything else. But a fuller standard of beauty can look beyond the number of blossoms a plant’s been cultivated to show, and draw from an appreciation of its function in and adaptedness to its surroundings. To plant something far from where it evolved and have to support it with gobs more water and care than it ought to require, especially in a time of climate crisis and water stress, is that not an ugliness? Good form is good fit.

The other part of the aesthetics is a revolt against excessive formality, a look that’s too manicured, too domineering. I look at things like this, and I think of the amount of energy that goes into trimming those boxwoods into perfect extruded rectangles, serving only to make them look lifeless. And so, yes, that’s a cherry-picked castle grounds somewhere in Europe, but then you see the same thought process at work in the flat-topped hedges girding every other house in America. When you plant things that want to grow in their site, it’s natural to extend that to letting them take the shapes that they will.² It’s a small step towards integration with the earth, and away from a display of dominion over it.

In light of this, all that suburban landscaping starts to look like a missed opportunity. You could have your landscape speak of place while saving water, saving work, supporting wildlife, and (I would argue) looking better while doing it. Push back against the outdoor version of AirSpace. Feed a butterfly.

Species I’ve planted

This is a Midwestern list, deployed in the Chicago area, so that means a lot of prairie and forest stuff. I’m a noob; my little plot of natives is modest, and I’ve used it mainly as an experiment to see what I could get to grow. That experiment is now starting to show some results.

Nodding onion (Allium cernuum)

This was the first thing I planted that really easily got established, and encouraged me to keep going. They bloom late in the summer in white allium puffballs that droop over at the top of the stem.

Butterfly milkweed (Asclepia tuberosa)

Bright orange blooms late in the season, and a host plant for monarchs.

Elm-leaved goldenrod (Solidago ulmifolia)

Grows tall and puts out sprays of fuzzy yellow flowers. Bumblebees go nuts for it.

Showy goldenrod

Planted recently; we’ll see how it does.

Short’s aster, big-leaf aster

These have not done terrifically well in my site; they probably want more sun.

Celandine poppy, Golden alexander

I have a pair of these adjacent, and they’re duking it out for yellow flower supremacy.

Chives

These appeared one day. I have not found out who planted them.

Random sedges and grasses

Bad on me for not writing down which they were. I have one fighting with a goldenrod and a another one quietly hanging out with the nodding onions.

Reference books

Prairie Up: An Introduction to Natural Garden Design, Benjamin Vogt

Philosophy and practical considerations for native plant gardens.

Native Plants of the Midwest, Alan Branhagen

Coffee-table-esque book that I allowed myself to get got by at a museum bookshop, but actually a great resource.