Doin’ What Comes Naturally

Nature is already at work.

Early in the morning, I like to walk and take in what’s around me—the landscaping, the trees, the light as it changes through the seasons. It soothes and resets my brain as I wake up, stretch my body and lungs, and gratefully prepare for a new day. I’ve also noticed that our benign neglect of the yard has yielded some wisdom of its own. Nature has begun expressing her preferences.

Closeup of White Wood Aster.

After a summer rain, magical fairy rings will appear in our wooded corner—large circles of mushrooms appearing where trees once stood. And then there is my favorite: the delightful and disgusting devil’s fingers fungus. Look it up. Red fingers that emerge from the earth with what looks like poop on them (it's true!) and smells like death—which is, apparently, exactly the point. The odor attracts flies, which help spread its spores.

Not quite the fully mature and "poopy" Devil Finger Fungus - but a photo from my front yard - sorry, this is not scratch and sniff.

This year, much of the back yard has been carpeted by a low white flower: white wood aster. It thrives in dry, relatively poor soil and provides late-season food for pollinators, including moths and other nighttime visitors. A few years ago, crown vetch and its purple flowers began making themselves at home on the steep drop at the corner of our yard. My partner asked whether he should remove it. We looked it up and learned that it has long been used for erosion control because of its dense root system, and that its flowers attract bees. It is also considered invasive in New York, although ours has so far been content to stay on its little hill and do its job.

Would the two of us nerdy suburbanites have sat down and designed this little ecosystem ourselves? Nope. But paying attention to what grows—and why—has taught us something. A carpet of native white flowers feeds late-season and nighttime pollinators. A difficult little hillside is holding together without much help from us. Mushrooms mark the places where old trees are still feeding life beneath the soil.

There is a temptation, especially in suburbia, to believe that a healthy landscape is one we have thoroughly controlled.

Our little corner of the town keeps suggesting otherwise. Sometimes the first thing we should do is simply pay attention. Nature is already at work.