Spring Awakening

Flowers are blooming, birds are chirping, insects are buzzing, and all around us nature is waking up to spring.

And miracles are happening: complex and ancient relationships between plants and animals begin again each spring. You can watch them in your own backyard – if you have the right plants!

In the forests of the Eastern US, there is a short window of opportunity when daytime temperatures are above freezing but the trees are still bare, allowing sunlight to warm the forest floor. Plants called “spring ephemerals” take advantage of that special moment, living out their brief visible lives in sunshine before fading back underground in shady summer.

Yellow Trout Lily (Erythronium americanum) is a spring ephemeral.
Rue Anemone (Anemonella thalictroides) blooms in early April, but will fade away in summer.

Spring ephemerals accomplish their entire active life cycle in a matter of 2 to 3 months. They must break through the soil, produce flowers, be pollinated, and set and disperse seed. Then, before sunlight is blocked by the tree canopy, they must photosynthesize enough nutrients to keep their underground roots or rhizomes alive through the next winter. Once they have done all of that, their leaves fade away in summer, and they rest again under soil and leaf litter until spring. “Ephemeral” means short-lived, but many of these plants actually live for years, spending most of that time underground.

Bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis) is a spring ephemeral.
Photo: Sandy Thompson

It’s a challenging life-style: there are late snowfalls and night-time freezes to withstand; pollinators are scarce in early spring; and there aren’t many birds available to disperse seeds. Most butterflies emerge much later, and birds are looking for insects for their babies in spring rather than seeds. So, spring ephemerals have co-evolved with specialized relationships to survive.

Spring Beauty (Claytonia virginica or caroliniana)
Photo: Sandy Thompson

Consider the life cycle of Claytonia, commonly called “Spring Beauty,” a native wildflower as lovely as the name suggests. It blooms just at the same time that its pollinator begins searching for it. The specialized pollinator is a native bee, appropriately called the Spring Beauty Mining Bee (Andrena erigeniae), that overwinters in individual ground nests, usually under fallen leaves. Male and female bees emerge in very early spring. They mate and the males soon die off while the females begin excavating new nests in the ground (hence, the name “mining bee”). The females hunt for the pink pollen of Spring Beauty, the only pollen they can use, which they form into balls and place in the nest in individual brood chambers. The bee then lays a single egg in each chamber. The larvae hatch, feed on the pollen, develop into adults, and overwinter underground. The next spring, it all begins again.

Andrena erigeniae collects pink pollen from Claytonia.
Photo: Judy Gallagher, Lopez-Uribe Lab

After pollination, Spring Beauty flowers produce seeds, each with an attached fatty mass called an elaiosome. The elaiosomes are particularly attractive to ants, who carry the seeds with the attached elaisomes back to their nests. The ant colony feeds on the elaiosomes and discards the seeds, effectively planting them nearby. This process of seed dispersal by ants is called “myrmecochory” and is common with spring ephemerals and other early-blooming native flowers. (See our earlier blog posts on Wild Ginger and Jeffersonia.)

An ant carrying a Trillium seed with attached elaiosome (greatly enlarged photo!!)
Photo: Mike Dunn from “Roads End Naturalist” blog

So, with the help of its special insect friends, Spring Beauty is pollinated and its seeds are planted for the next year. In summer, its leaves will fade and the plant will disappear underground. But when the snow melts in spring, the plant will wake up again, eventually forming beautiful patches of candy-striped flowers on the forest floor – or, in a suburban shade garden!

Dicentra cucullaria, or “Dutchman’s Breeches”.
Photo: Sandy Thompson

Another spring ephemeral with a special insect friend is called “Dutchman’s Breeches” because its white flowers look like old-style Dutch pantaloons. The flowers hold sweet nectar high up in the pointed flower tops where it can be reached only by long-tongued bees strong enough to force their way in and then escape through the tight opening. Queen bumblebees are perfect for the job. While worker bumblebees die off in the fall, queens over-winter as adults on the ground under leaf litter, and emerge just as Dutchman’s Breeches are flowering. They must find nectar to nourish themselves as they begin laying their eggs. There are not many flowers with nectar in early spring — even most spring ephemerals do not hold nectar — so Dicentra cucullaria is an important resource for queen bumblebees. In exchange for the nectar, the strong fuzzy body of the queen bumblebee carries pollen from flower to flower enabling the plant to produce seed.

Dutchmans’ Breeches flowers require a strong bee to pollinate them.
Photo: Sandy Thompson

Still another spring ephemeral with a specialized relationship is Mayapple (Podophyllum peltatum).

A colony of Mayapple in April.

Mayapple flowers turn into fleshy “apple” fruits, about the size of a walnut. The fruit is prized by Eastern box turtles, and provides essential nourishment just as turtles come out of winter hibernation. In exchange, the turtles carry the seeds considerable distances, distributing them in their droppings to form new plant colonies. A recent study showed that Mayapple seeds that have passed through the digestive system of a box turtle have a higher germination rate than seeds distributed by other means! Mayapple can be found in wetland areas, woods, and in meadows where box turtles live, but it also makes a pretty spring show in a shady garden. It spreads somewhat aggressively by rhizomes, so it is a better choice for woodland areas than small gardens.

Virginia bluebells (Mertensia virginica) and Wood Poppy (Stylophorum diphyllum) are spring ephemerals that make great garden plants.

Trilliums are joyful spring ephemerals.

Native spring ephemerals evolved in Eastern forests, so they all do well in rich, slightly acidic soil enriched by fallen leaves that are allowed to decompose naturally. They are hardy in their native ranges, most of them from Canada south to Georgia and the Carolinas and west to the Mississippi River. They will disappear by late June or July, so plant them with other shade perennials that come up later: blue lobelia, wild ginger, maidenhair ferns, white wood asters, and goatsbeard are good choices, but so are many other native woodland plants. And allowing fall leaves to remain on the ground at least until mid-summer benefits not only the plants, but also their specialized insect and animal partners.

All of these plants offer critical food for early pollinators, but many spring ephemerals are disappearing in the wild as our forests are cleared, over-browsed by deer, and degraded with invasive species. Growing them in residential gardens is an act of ecological restoration — and a gift to our future.

Mayapple, Trout Lily, and Trillium live together in a shady garden.

If you have mature trees, planting an array of spring ephemerals as a native understory is so much better than a mono-culture of non-native groundcovers (like pachysandra, ivy, vinca, liriope) or a layer of dead bark mulch. The specialized relationships these plants have with insects and other animals are fascinating and beautiful to observe. All of the plants discussed here are easy to incorporate into home gardens, and are available commercially and at native plant sales.

So, when spring is awakening in your yard, give these American beauties – and their special friends – a place to thrive.

THIS BLOG IS WRITTEN BY CATHY LUDDEN, CONSERVATIONIST AND NATIVE PLANT EDUCATOR; AND BOARD MEMBER, GREENBURGH NATURE CENTER. FOLLOW CATHY ON INSTAGRAM FOR MORE PHOTOS AND GARDENING TIPS @CATHYLUDDEN.

Side effects: May Include Joy, Calm, and Delight

The morning news is just awful: wars, school shootings, forest fires, floods, political extremes. It’s all too much, and I think I can actually feel my blood pressure rising. Stressed and depressed, I turn away from the news, and look out my window…

A big flock of robins has descended on the Winterberry, eating berries as fast as they can in a joyful feast! They dash back and forth between the Winterberry and the Crab Apple as if they can’t decide which fruit they like best. Dozens more birds – robins, blue jays, and cardinals dive into the American Holly. Squirrels grab the berries knocked to the ground and scamper off to stash them for later.

As I step outside to watch the action, I hear crows screeching an alert from the top of the Locust trees. Sure enough, I see a red-tailed hawk circling high above. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a rabbit dash for cover under the mess of flower stalks I’ve left standing for just that reason – it’s a great place to hide!

Winter hiding place

Watching all of this, I realize that I’m now smiling and calm. The tension I felt earlier has receded. My pulse and breathing have slowed, and there is a sense of well-being just from spending a few minutes in my own yard. These are the healing side-effects of living in nature!

My yard is not typical of suburban New York City. It is heavily planted with native trees, shrubs, grasses, and flowers. It’s intentionally a bit messy this time of year, with leaves still on the ground, and untrimmed perennials and tall grasses in muted shades of brown and beige still standing. The shrubs are not clipped into tidy shapes but are allowed to form thickets with their branches interlaced. There is a brush pile creating shelter against the back fence, and River Birch trees with shaggy bark hide insects for woodpeckers and nuthatches even in winter.

My backyard in winter

I know that is why the birds are here: there is food and shelter available year-round in this particular suburban yard.

About 10 years ago, I eliminated pesticides, herbicides, and chemical fertilizers from my yard. Then I began removing the non-native and invasive plants so typical of our area: ivy, vinca, pachysandra, barberry, and burning bush. I gradually replaced them with lots of native trees, shrubs, grasses, and flowers, always chipping away at the lawn to make more room. I stopped sending fall leaves off of the property and started using them to mulch the trees and shrubs, so the fireflies and caterpillars over-wintering in leaves could stay alive and emerge in the spring. Eventually, I replaced more than half of my lawn with native plants.

My “unusual” front yard

I did all of this because I learned that American songbirds are dying off at a horrifying rate. The total population of backyard birds today is 25% less than it was in 1970, and many once common species have lost closer to 50% of their numbers! Baltimore orioles, bluebirds, and warblers were once as common as robins, but are rarely seen now. This is happening because the forests, meadows, and grasslands where birds once nested, mated, and hunted for insects are gone.

There is virtually no undeveloped land left in America. The suburbs keep growing, taking over land that only a few decades ago was wild. Today, 83% of the continental US is privately owned, and 44 million acres of it is planted in lawn! Worse, most of that lawn is maintained with chemicals that are toxic to birds, butterflies, fireflies, and insects that birds need to feed their young.

Typical suburban yard in winter — nothing to eat and nowhere to hide

Yet, America’s suburbs may be “nature’s best hope.” It’s really the only land left that can be reclaimed as a useful habitat. In the book, Nature’s Best Hope, Doug Tallamy suggests that if we converted just half of the lawn in suburbia — 22 million acres — to native plants, it would exceed the combined areas

…of the Everglades, Yellowstone, Yosemite, Grand Teton, Canyonlands, Mount Rainier, North Cascades, Badlands, Olympic, Sequoia, Grand Canyon, Denali, and the Great Smoky Mountains National Parks.

That much habitat could have a huge impact on biodiversity – even reversing losses of vital and cherished bird and animal species. These facts were the motivation for my effort to convert a typical lawn-and-tidy-shrub suburban landscape into something richer and more diverse.

I thought I was doing it for nature. The surprise has been what nature does for me!

My yard full of native plants is my refuge, my laboratory, my classroom, my gym, my anti depressant, my stress reliever, and a playground for our family’s children that is infinitely more
interesting and safer than a lawn full of chemicals. We’ve seen new species of butterflies settle here after I added their host plants. With more birds around, we started learning to identify
them. So far, we have identified over 40 different species! And I’ve seen wonderful things I had never before even heard of, like a hummingbird moth!

A hummingbird moth visits my Phlox!

There is something new to discover almost daily in a bio-diverse landscape. It is full of life and wonder! The seasons change so visibly: delicate spring flowers, fragrant summer shrubs, so many fall colors, and winter bird feasts! The sounds are amazing: bird calls, crickets, tree frogs, cicadas, and squirrels chittering. The experiences make me feel alive: watching fireflies blink on a summer evening while the air is filled with the perfume of Summersweet shrub; watching from my living room window as tiny birds take refuge from a snowstorm.

Tufted titmouse and white-throated sparrow shelter in my Rhododendron

When the stress of daily life is just too much, you can always visit the Nature Center, or take a walk in any park or nature preserve. It will help.

But it’s so much better to live with nature, and in nature, in your own yard! You can welcome it, take care of it, observe it, learn from it, and be surprised by it every time you step outside. As we begin the new year, I hope you will resolve to convert a bit more of your yard to habitat and do it not only for nature but for yourself and your family.

There are simple things you can do that will make a difference. This blog frequently has suggestions, so scroll through the Around the Grounds Collection below, or start with these posts for ideas: (1/26/23, 2/16/23, 3/23/23, 4/27/23, 10/5/23).

Wishing you joy, peace, and delight in the new year!

Thanks to Saverio DeGiorgio for the featured photo. Follow Sav on Instagram @savwildlifephotography

THIS BLOG IS AUTHORED WEEKLY BY CATHY LUDDEN, CONSERVATIONIST AND NATIVE PLANT EDUCATOR; AND BOARD MEMBER, OF GREENBURGH NATURE CENTER. FOLLOW CATHY ON INSTAGRAM FOR MORE PHOTOS AND GARDENING TIPS @CATHYLUDDEN.

Autumn Wonderland

The Northeastern United States is famous for fall foliage. “Leaf peepers” come from all over the world to see our native plants in their dramatic fall colors.

Northeastern landscape in autumn
A walk in the woods in fall

Why, then, should a walk around suburban neighborhoods, in the same region during the same season, be so disappointing? Where are the colors?

The plants that thrill “leaf peepers” grew in abundance before the suburbs were developed, and they would still thrive here – if only they were planted! It seems that every suburban yard uses the same non-native “foundation plants” — boxwood, pachysandra, ivy, and hedges of yew or privet or even bamboo! – all completely devoid of our famous fall colors!

C’mon people! We can do so much better than this! Why not plant our yards with the same trees, shrubs, and perennials that make this region a tourist attraction in the fall? Let’s add some color, life, and seasonal interest beyond pumpkins! There are so many great choices with our incredible abundance of Northeastern native plants.

Red maple (Acer rubrum)
Photo: Michael Martini
Pin Oak (Quercus palustris)

The undisputed rock-stars of fall color are our native Maples, and Oak trees are a close second. If you have a lawn, you probably have room for a Maple or a native Oak. Oaks have enormous value for wildlife — and for homeowners! [See this blog post] Both Maples and Oaks are beautiful year-round, but autumn is their glory season.

Our native flowering trees are also brilliant in the fall. Nothing beats the American Dogwood (Cornus florida) with its intense maroon foliage and vivid scarlet berries. Crabapples (Malus spp.) also produce colorful fruit, and American Witch Hazel (Hamamelis virginiana) starts blooming in October!

American Dogwood
Crabapple
American Witch Hazel

The Northeast is also blessed with native shrubs that produce kaleidoscopic colors in the fall. While evergreen foundation shrubs are useful, why not add some of the flowering and fruiting native shrubs that bring color and interest in both spring and fall? Here are some easy choices to add to your yard. All of the shrubs pictured below are locally available, easy to grow, valuable to wildlife, have beautiful flowers, and are spectacular in the fall.

Oakleaf Hydrangea (Hydrangea quercifolia)
Possumhaw Viburum (Viburnum nudum) pictured with
American Witch Hazel
Low Bush Blueberry (Vaccinium angustifolium)
Red Chokeberry (Aronia arbutifolia)
American Cranberrybush (Viburnum trilobum)
Winterberry (Ilex verticillata)

And don’t forget fall flowers and grasses in gorgeous colors!

Aromatic Aster (Symphyotrichum oblongifolium ‘Raydon’s Favorite’)
Switch Grass (Panicum virgatum ‘Cheyenne Sky’) shown with Ironweed (Vernonia lettermanii ‘Iron Butterfly’)

Not only are these plants beautiful, they are incredibly valuable to the ecosystem of the Northeastern US. So many suburban landscapes use non-native plants that offer nothing to birds, butterflies, bees and other insects, and many are destructively invasive as well. If your only fall color is coming from burning bush or Japanese maple, you may want to consider native alternatives for those reasons. Privet, bamboo, ivy, vinca, and pachysandra are all known to be invasive plants and can be replaced easily with native plants that are beautiful in the fall, and year-round.

And wouldn’t you enjoy an autumn view like this?

Willow leaf oak (Quercus phellos), American dogwood,
and Pin Oaks

And this?

Oaks, Inkberry (Ilex glabra), Blue Star (Amsonia tabernaemontana and A. hubrichtii), High Bush Blueberry(Vaccinium corymbosum), Common juniper, and Possumhaw Viburnum

The fall glory of native plants lies within your reach!

THIS BLOG IS AUTHORED WEEKLY BY CATHY LUDDEN, CONSERVATIONIST AND NATIVE PLANT EDUCATOR; AND BOARD MEMBER, GREENBURGH NATURE CENTER. FOLLOW CATHY ON INSTAGRAM FOR MORE PHOTOS AND GARDENING TIPS @CATHYLUDDEN.

Turning Over an Old Leaf

As fall approaches, we want to remind everyone that leaf litter is critical for many pollinators and other beneficial insects. This post about fall clean-up is worth revisiting…

As we learn more about the critical relationships between plants, insects, and birds, the best advice we are getting about fall leaf clean-up is … don’t!

In the old days, suburbanites taking care of their lawns raked (yes, raked!) fall leaves into giant piles to be burned. The familiar scent of burning leaves was everywhere – and we released tons of carbon sequestered in those leaves into the atmosphere. 

Fall routine

So anti-burning ordinances were passed, and we started using gas leaf blowers to form the leaf piles, or bagging leaves for municipal workers to collect – all at taxpayer expense. Municipalities started spending millions to ship leaves out of the county. Enterprising souls then turned our leaves into compost to sell back to us. Not a good deal for us.

Bagged leaves to be collected at taxpayer expense
Leaves at the curb clog storm drains, a municipal headache

Since that routine makes neither economic nor ecological sense, we started hearing campaigns urging us to use mulching mowers. The idea was to chop leaves into tiny pieces and leave them on the lawn to enrich the soil. That method is a big improvement, and it definitely works — it’s great for lawn health and municipal budgets. 

But we have learned that chopping up leaves has an unanticipated cost. Native bees burrow into the ground under leaf litter to survive the winter. Eggs and larvae of butterflies, moths, fireflies, and many other insects hang on to leaves, or hide under them, until warm weather returns. If we chop up or remove leaves to clear the ground in our yards, we are unintentionally destroying insects that baby birds need for food in the spring, as well as insects we need and enjoy.

Many insects need fall leaf litter to survive winter 
Mourning cloak butterfly emerging in March at the Nature Center
Who is hiding in there for the winter?

The best use of fall leaves – and the best place for them – is under the trees that dropped them. Trees and all other forest plants evolved growing with a thick layer of leaves in the winter. Dead leaves nourish the soil and everything that lives in it. Leaf litter on your shrub and flower beds protects the roots of your plants and protects early buds from freezing and loss of moisture.

Leaves where they belong

Of course, you’ll want to blow (or better, rake!) leaves off of driveways and paths, and either mulch or clear leaves that fall on lawn. But the best place to put them is in your shrub and flower beds and under your trees. A loose, 6-inch deep layer of leaves will not hurt your shrubs and perennials – quite the opposite. If there are still too many leaves, create a leaf pile in an out-of-the-way area, or add leaves to a compost bin. In spring, once the weather is warm and insects have had a chance to emerge, you can mulch the remaining leaves and return them to the lawn or flower beds, or even put them out for removal with spring clean-up.

Use your leaves to protect trees, shrubs, and perennials

Pro tip: Less lawn and more garden makes leaf clean-up a cinch! If your trees are surrounded by garden beds rather than lawn, nature does the work for you!

Healthy yard maintenance is less work!
THIS BLOG IS AUTHORED WEEKLY BY CATHY LUDDEN, CONSERVATIONIST AND NATIVE PLANT EDUCATOR; AND BOARD MEMBER, GREENBURGH NATURE CENTER. FOLLOW CATHY ON INSTAGRAM FOR MORE PHOTOS AND GARDENING TIPS @CATHYLUDDEN.

Turning Over an Old Leaf

As fall approaches, we want to remind everyone that leaf litter is critical for many pollinators and other beneficial insects. This post about fall clean-up is worth revisiting…

As we learn more about the critical relationships between plants, insects, and birds, the best advice we are getting about fall leaf clean-up is … don’t!

In the old days, suburbanites taking care of their lawns raked (yes, raked!) fall leaves into giant piles to be burned. The familiar scent of burning leaves was everywhere – and we released tons of carbon sequestered in those leaves into the atmosphere. 

Fall routine

So anti-burning ordinances were passed, and we started using gas leaf blowers to form the leaf piles, or bagging leaves for municipal workers to collect – all at taxpayer expense. Municipalities started spending millions to ship leaves out of the county. Enterprising souls then turned our leaves into compost to sell back to us. Not a good deal for us.

Bagged leaves to be collected at taxpayer expense
Leaves at the curb clog storm drains, a municipal headache

Since that routine makes neither economic nor ecological sense, we started hearing campaigns urging us to use mulching mowers. The idea was to chop leaves into tiny pieces and leave them on the lawn to enrich the soil. That method is a big improvement, and it definitely works — it’s great for lawn health and municipal budgets. 

But we have learned that chopping up leaves has an unanticipated cost. Native bees burrow into the ground under leaf litter to survive the winter. Eggs and larvae of butterflies, moths, fireflies, and many other insects hang on to leaves, or hide under them, until warm weather returns. If we chop up or remove leaves to clear the ground in our yards, we are unintentionally destroying insects that baby birds need for food in the spring, as well as insects we need and enjoy.

Many insects need fall leaf litter to survive winter 
Mourning cloak butterfly emerging in March at the Nature Center
Who is hiding in there for the winter?

The best use of fall leaves – and the best place for them – is under the trees that dropped them. Trees and all other forest plants evolved growing with a thick layer of leaves in the winter. Dead leaves nourish the soil and everything that lives in it. Leaf litter on your shrub and flower beds protects the roots of your plants and protects early buds from freezing and loss of moisture.

Leaves where they belong

Of course, you’ll want to blow (or better, rake!) leaves off of driveways and paths, and either mulch or clear leaves that fall on lawn. But the best place to put them is in your shrub and flower beds and under your trees. A loose, 6-inch deep layer of leaves will not hurt your shrubs and perennials – quite the opposite. If there are still too many leaves, create a leaf pile in an out-of-the-way area, or add leaves to a compost bin. In spring, once the weather is warm and insects have had a chance to emerge, you can mulch the remaining leaves and return them to the lawn or flower beds, or even put them out for removal with spring clean-up.

Use your leaves to protect trees, shrubs, and perennials

Pro tip: Less lawn and more garden makes leaf clean-up a cinch! If your trees are surrounded by garden beds rather than lawn, nature does the work for you!

Healthy yard maintenance is less work!
THIS BLOG IS AUTHORED WEEKLY BY CATHY LUDDEN, CONSERVATIONIST AND NATIVE PLANT EDUCATOR; AND BOARD MEMBER, GREENBURGH NATURE CENTER. FOLLOW CATHY ON INSTAGRAM FOR MORE PHOTOS AND GARDENING TIPS @CATHYLUDDEN.