New Cultural Artifact Discovered at Herrontown Woods

Members of the Friends of Herrontown Woods just found another cultural artifact to add to the mix of nature and culture along the corridor of preserved land called the Princeton Ridge East. To the various farmsteads and quarry operations can be added this curious imprint in the flat woodland at the north end of the preserve, carved by a bulldozer many decades ago and now left to slowly fill in with leaves. The "L" shaped hole appears to be several feet deep, and runs 100 feet in one direction, 50 in another.

Is it more evidence of quarrying, or might it be a mid-20th century attempt at a groundwater-fed swimming pool that I had heard rumor of years back?  I've written an account of the off-trail adventure that led to this discovery at the VeblenHouse.org website.

Monarchs and Glyphosate

It's time for a little Sunday sermon about good and evil, as it pertains to monarchs and herbicide. (I must be channeling my grandfather, who was a chemistry professor during the school year and a minister during the summer.) But before that, a brief, italicized update on the monarch for context:

Monarchs made their traditional appearance in the mountains of Mexico on the Day of the Dead, which is celebrated from Oct. 31 to Nov. 2. By November 2, according to JourneyNorth, the first several thousand arrivals had clustered on evergreen trees in Michoacan, with millions more still channeling south from Texas. Chip Taylor, who has made the monarch his life's work, predicted numbers at least double of last year's record low. 

That's the good news, but the cards are still stacked against the monarch, as long as agricultural practices in the central U.S. and elsewhere are geared towards exterminating the milkweed the monarch depends upon for building its numbers each year as it migrates north. 

Now for a little talk about the good, the bad, and the (far less emotionally gratifying) inbetween. It's human to want to draw a nice, clean line between good and evil. Mixing the two tends to diffuse the delicious, heady, mobilizing energy that drives many political movements. That nice, clean line also saves big-time on the mental energy required to make fine distinctions. But when it comes to chemistry, good and evil are often not inherent in a substance itself, but are more a matter of how much and where.

Take, for instance, the harsh portrayals of glyphosate, which has become famous or infamous as the active ingredient in Monsanto's herbicide, Roundup. It's now broadcast widely to kill weeds in farm fields, and has had a devastating effect on milkweed populations critical for the survival of monarchs. Because of its relatively low toxicity and price, it's also used in very small and targeted amounts by land stewards working to restore forest and grassland habitat. Since the patent expired, glyphosate can be purchased from other companies than Monsanto. Shall we paint with a broad brush, and implicate all who use it as collaborating to poison our world? This assertion I heard made recently by a resident at a town council meeting. She also said, falsely, that glyphosate "is half of Agent Orange, and that's all you need to know."

One doesn't need to make false assertions about glyphosate to question the way it is being used on such a vast scale. As Maraleen Manos-Jones explained as part of a recent, edifying panel discussion at the Princeton Public Library, Monsanto's "Round-up Ready" corn and soybeans now are grown on more than 100 million acres of cropland in the U.S.. Because the crops have been genetically modified to be unaffected by glyphosate, farmers can spray their fields indiscriminately, exterminating all weeds, including the milkweed the monarchs need to survive. Cornfields used to have enough milkweed growing in and around them to support monarchs as they migrated north. No longer.

Meanwhile, even unfarmed areas such as roadsides are being managed in ways detrimental to the monarch. Herbicide use along roadsides and powerline right-of-ways, from my observation, is on the increase, and mowing in August and September wipes out flowers that could nourish adult monarchs, as well as any milkweed the caterpillars may be feeding on.

That, plus the increasing extremes of weather, are the stark reality monarchs now face, and Ms. Manos-Jones is as good as any at sounding the alarm. She was the first non-native woman to find the monarchs' overwintering grounds in Mexico in the 1970s, and by her telling has risked her life to defy the Mexican mafia that, along with local peasants in need of wood, has been cutting and fragmenting the dense forest the monarchs use for winter shelter. To drive home the threat, she used an aerial photo of the forest, showing a patchwork of clearcuts right next to a grove of evergreen forest turned orange by clustering monarchs. She's involved in a program to plant tree seedlings in logged areas.

But she also falls prey to a black and white apportionment of good and evil. Glyphosate is portrayed as a poison, pure and simple. That clear line may stir passion and a following. The thought of any herbicide getting into the body prompts a feeling of violation. But by laying blame on the molecule rather than on how it is used, people who use the herbicide responsibly are wrongly vilified. The indiscriminate casting of blame begins to bear resemblance to the indiscriminate use of herbicide.

At the other end of the political spectrum, one argument used to question the existence of climate change is that carbon dioxide is a good molecule, necessary for plant life, and so couldn't possibly be doing any harm. But carbon dioxide is beneficial or harmful depending on how much and where. Even as a diffuse molecule in the atmosphere, its concentration has a big effect on the planet. In enclosed spaces, artificially high concentrations of carbon dioxide can, like carbon monoxide, be lethal.

As appealing and convenient as it might be to brand glyphosate as an unmitigated evil, it's the least toxic among herbicides that land stewards have available. Now, the question often comes up, why must any herbicide ever be used for habitat restoration. Why don't land stewards just dig up the invasive shrubs? I would have asked the same if I had nothing more than a backyard to tend to. 100 acres of land choked with non-native shrubs whose foliage the wildlife refuse to eat is another matter. We could leave it be if we didn't want wildlife to have an edible landscape. We could dig the shrubs out if we had infinite time and energy, and didn't care about mass disturbance of the soil. Or, we could use tiny, targeted amounts of low-toxicity herbicide in much the way a doctor prescribes medicine.

The comparison of herbicide to medicine is useful. Ever since Silent Spring, environmentalists have been devoted to freeing the landscape of the scourge of chemicals. When it comes to our bodies, however, environmental and medical thinking are seemingly at odds. Many of us prefer organically grown food, yet willingly ingest chemicals in the form of medicine. For instance, we don't view antibiotics as poisons, but instead make a clear distinction between their beneficial, small-scale, targeted use as medicine, and the much criticized, indiscriminate use of them in cattle and poultry feed. Interestingly, the vast scale of current glyphosate use has led to a sharp increase in resistance in weeds, much like indiscriminate use of antibiotics has led to resistant pathogens.

The best medicine targets the pathogen in the body without affecting the healthy tissues. This is precisely what land stewards do when they dab a bit of glyphosate on the cut stump of an invasive shrub in the forest. A healthy skepticism about herbicides need not preclude applying the same distinctions drawn by medicine. In a forest that's been thrown out of balance, glyphosate can play the role of an antibiotic that, in small, directed doses is very low-risk, helpful and even critical, but becomes problematic when overused.

The three other panelists exemplified this more nuanced, pragmatic view.

Michael Gochfeld, Rutgers professor and co-author with his wife of "Butterflies of NJ", delved into the data on monarch population swings year to year. Most memorably, he described how profoundly weather affects the annual butterfly counts that often last only one day. Even if the sun just disappears behind a cloud, the butterflies are apt to disappear as well, and not get counted. He encouraged all interested to participate in the butterfly counts through the local chapter of the North American Butterfly Association.

Robert Somes, a biologist with NJ DEP's Nongame and Endangered Species Program, said that concerns about monarchs are bringing attention to the work he and others are already doing to manage public lands for rare or endangered species. They use prescribed burns to promote habitat for the Aragos skipper, and clear invasives with a mix of minimal herbicides and mechanical methods. This work benefits local as well as migratory pollinators.

Flo Rutherfeld, of the New Jersey's World of Wings Museum, was the last to speak, and gave some tips for gardening that caters to butterflies. Have a variety of plants that will provide flowers from as early in the season to as late as possible. Morning Cloaks and Question Marks overwinter as adults, so are out and about in the spring. Monarchs will spot wildflowers more easily if they are clumped. Leaf litter is important for overwintering butterflies and moths. Some species even use decomposing leaves as their "host plant".

Invasive species are also impacting monarchs and other butterflies. Gochfeld said that Hairstreak number may be dropping due to an invasive ant. (An account of how native ants have a symbiotic relationship with the caterpillars of Coral Hairstreaks can be found here. Invasive ants often displace native ones, severing the symbiotic relationships that have evolved among native species, with cascading consequences.) Rutherfeld mentioned a non-native milkweed called dog-strangling vine that is causing problems in the northeast. An Ontario website called InvadingSpecies describes how this invasive plant interferes in multiple ways with monarch reproduction:

"Impacts of Dog-Strangling Vine

• Dog-strangling vine forms dense stands that overwhelm and crowd out native plants and young trees, preventing forest regeneration.
• Colonies form mats of interwoven vines that are difficult to walk through and interfere with forest management and recreational activities.
• Leaves and roots may be toxic to livestock. Deer and other browsing animals also avoid dog-strangling vine, which can increase grazing pressure on more palatable native plants.
• The vine threatens the monarch butterfly, a species at risk in Ontario. The butterflies lay their eggs on the plant, but the larvae are unable to complete their life cycle and do not survive."

Fall Colors in and out of the Woods

Walking through Herrontown Woods, catching some color to carry me through the winter. Browns and yellows dominated. Beech leaves from green to yellow to copper.

Winterberry leaves that donated generously to the local insect society.

A solitary crabapple persisting in the shade.

Winged euonymus, or burning bush, grading pink to white, their colors doused by deep shade--

colors that in their customary brightly lit gas station habitat would be brilliant red.

Elsewhere in Herrontown Woods, along the flat top of the Ridge, the wind conspires to highlight the distribution of wineberry, flipping the leaves over to expose the white underneath.

The uncommon color of the gratefully numerous maple-leaved Viburnums.

After all that preceded on the walk, this burgundy jumped out at me from one of the few southern arrowwoods in the woods. (Viburnum dentatum)

The same arrowwood in full sun at the Princeton Healthcare Center has a different hue.

With more color from ginkgos to absorb on the walkway.

The catalpas guard the entryway,

with elephant ear leaves.

While the persimmons across town, growing up to the pedestrian bridge over Washington Rd on campus, go begging, their Princeton orange just beyond reach.

Art and Environment Events

Jenny Price, visiting professor at the Princeton Environmental Institute, is speaking at the DR Greenway's Johnson Education Center this Wednesday, Nov. 4, 6:30-8:30. The topic is
"LA Has a River?: Reviving America's Most Famous Forgotten Waterway".
      The river is completely lined with concrete, and yet there have been efforts to restore habitat within this massive concrete channel. Art plays a role in bringing life and people back to what was intended to be a giant ditch. Jenny lived in California for many years and was actively involved in the project.

Jenny has also organized a panel discussion on art's connection to nature, on Thursday, Nov. 13, 4:30 - 6 at Guyot Hall, Rm 10, entitled "What Arts are Good For". The most recent panel, on "What Literature is Good For", was excellent.

Paradox Lost, or, Less Irony in the Woodland Diet

The woodlands of Princeton have long held a paradox. Abundant food in the form of non-native species has gone begging while deer and other wildlife stubbornly maintain their preference for eating natives. The result is a continuing imbalance as the non-natives gain competitive advantage and dominate the understory, forming what is essentially an inedible landscape.

Here's the classic example--a native spicebush with one main trunk large enough to escape the deer, but with any new shoots from the base getting eaten down. Those stubs of new shoots--dense stunted growth reminiscent of witch's broom--are a sign of heavy deer browsing. I hadn't seen anything similar on the nonnative shrubs like winged euonymus, Linden viburnum, privet, and asian photinia.

Last week, though, I saw something that would suggest that the forests grip on paradox is loosening. Here's a typical winged euonymus, showing off its pink in autumn's color-coded forest. If it were in full sun, the fall color would be bright red--thus the common name burning bush. Its ability to successfully invade and dominate in our preserves owes much to its inedibility. The native Euonymus shrub (E. americana) by contrast is a favorite of the deer, and is browsed so thoroughly that it survives only as sprouts here and there on the forest floor, a few inches high.

But what's going on there in the photo, down near the ground, to the left of the trunk?

This nonnative Euonymus has sprouts that look a lot like the browsed sprouts of the native spicebush.

And this invasive Linden Viburnum, cut down by volunteers with the Friends of Herrontown Woods maintaining Autumn Hill Reservation's trails--the new sprouts from the stump are getting browsed by the deer.

These are heartening signs that the deer may be, with an emphasis on "may", expanding their diet to include more invasives. The question for land managers is whether we could help this process along. I recently heard a testimonial that the mint-flavored sprays used on hostas and other plants to discourage deer browsing are actually effective. Perhaps there's a spray that would attract deer to invasives, and begin training them to consume them more. Is food preference learned or instinctive? Does one generation steer the next towards particular foods?

In the meantime, we walk the trails cutting invasives here and there, deer-like, applying the sort of steady browsing pressure on exotics that deer have shown can be so transformative when applied to natives. Normally, without a little dab of glyphosate applied to the cut stump, the shrubs would simply resprout and need to be cut again the next year to keep the trail clear. But if the deer cooperate and browse the resprouts, then some progress towards shifting the balance towards native species could actually be made, even without the stump treatment. If this is over-optimistic, blame it on the uplifting nature of a brisk autumn walk in the woods.

Some other observations during a beautiful fall day in Autumn Hill Reservation:

Slow-mo wrestling match. The bark of a dogwood trunk has completely enveloped a Japanese honeysuckle vine that had grown around it. The vine was squeezing the trunk, and now the trunk is squeezing the vine. I cut the vine at the bottom to improve the dogwood's prospects.

A lone hazelnut, with a lone female flower bud. Autumn color-coding in the forest makes it easier to discover the solitary hazelnut shrubs scattered across Princeton. I know of one in Autumn Hill Reservation, two in Herrontown Woods, and four at Mountain Lakes Preserve.

Habitat Restoration--Pragmatic or Sentimental?

Sometimes it seems like all this talk of the Anthropocene is making people think that "old nature" is no longer relevant. Those of us who work to restore habitats are seen as sentimental diehards longing for a past that no longer exists. Similar dismissal of the past occurred in other theaters of endeavor in the 60s and 70s, as beautiful old buildings were boldly displaced by modernist structures that are now viewed with regret, and centrifugal forces pushed jazz into ever more discordant realms. In jazz, I remember the value of the past being rediscovered in the 1980s, led most notably by Wynton Marsalis and his work to reintegrate the styles of Louis Armstrong, Duke Ellington and others into contemporary music. Architecture, too, rediscovered the beauty and wisdom of past eras.

There's an oped in the New York Times today that aims at a similar integration of old and new approaches to conservation. It makes some good points, but I'm still stung by past opeds with an anti-native bias. This one's called How to Mend the Conservation Divide, by Emma Marris and Greg Apletoct. I sent a comment in:

Though this oped is less scornful of the native plant movement than others I've seen in the NY Times, it still refers to "old conservationists" who wish to keep "ecosystems as they were hundreds of years ago". There's a great deal of wisdom in those ecosystems, in the way nature has functioned for millenia, and I find in my work in urban nature preserves that there is a robust growth force that is both old and forever young, and can be nurtured if the ecological imbalances we have imposed are minimized. The positive impact we as humans can have in preserves has much to do with compensating for the distortions we have often unintentionally introduced. A preserve seemingly left alone has in fact been radically altered by removal of predators, introduction of non-native species that wildlife refuse to eat, and even the suppression of natural fires that have historically played such a vital role in the landscape. To compensate, we need to fill the predator gap by culling deer, "browse" the non-native shrubs that the wildlife have not developed a taste for, and in some fire-dependent habitats do prescribed burns. Once these balancing mechanisms are restored, the result is not a museum piece from hundreds of years ago, but a functional, thriving habitat. To intervene in this way is not purist nor sentimental, but instead grows out of long study and observation of how nature works, which in turn prompts pragmatic steps to help it do what it has for so long done so well.  --SKH

Stone Hill Church Gets a Nature Trail

'Twas the day before trail day,
And at the edge of the wood,
A pile of mulch
Very patiently stood.

The tools were all placed at the curbside with care,
In hopes that the volunteers soon would be there.

The route had been chosen,
Permissions were gained.
The leaders were ready
Their helpers to train.

When out of the cars
Stepped a parent or three,

With kids who would soon be
Busy as bees.

With shovels and wheelbarrows,
Pickaxe and rake,
The work and the progress
Their spirits did wake.

The woods it did beckon,
The woods it did call.

So off they went searching
For straight limbs to haul

To place near the trail,
Its route to define.
A trail that's bounded
Will hikers incline.

And towering over this hustle and bustle,
Stood givers of leaves that far below rustle:
Maples and oaks, a sweet gum or two,
Proud tulip poplars and hickories, too.
Lifting the spirits of any and all
Who paused to gaze up at their trunks straight and tall.

And so like this tree that turned towards the sky,
So might a trail, invitingly good,
Lead hikers from Stone Hill Church
Into Herrontown Wood.


Note: This was a volunteer project organized by Stone Hill Church on Bunn Drive. I was there in my newly appointed capacity as president of the nonprofit Friends of Herrontown Woods. ("Like" us, if you like.) While others worked on the trail, a volunteer and I rescued ferns, sedges and American holly from the path of the trail. Accounts of previous church-related workdays, back when the church was on Westerly Road, can be found by typing "westerly" in the search box at the top of this blog.

Upcoming events: Nature in Economics, Art, and Religion

Not that anyone planned this, but these three events speak to efforts to integrate nature and environment into other disciplines. Follow the links for more info.

HOW NATURE INTERSECTS WITH:

THE ECONOMY
This Thursday, Oct. 30, 6:30pm, Princeton biology professor Simon Levin will speak at DR Greenway's Johnson Education Center on "Opportunities in Environmental Stewardship: The Value of Ecosystem Services"

THE ARTS

Thursday, Nov. 13, 4:30 - 6 at Guyot Hall, Rm 10, the Princeton Environmental Institute presents: "What Arts are Good For"

THEOLOGY

Wednesday, Nov. 19, 8:30-4:30, in the Princeton Seminary Library, a symposium entitled "Evolutionary Science and Theological Identity"
The Seminary has an endowed professor of theology and science who recently retired. My grandfather was a chemistry professor who served as a minister at a church during the summer. This symposium might shed some light on recent thinking on how science influences religious identity.

Princeton's Street Tree Math Doesn't Add Up

One big problem the Princeton Shade Tree Commission is grappling with (I'm a member), is that Princeton is losing about 250 street trees per year--to disease, storm damage, old age--but only 50-100 trees are being planted per year to replace them. The numbers don't add up, and will be even more mismatched after the Emerald Ash Borer arrives. The low number of trees planted is partly due to the expense of purchasing and planting them. Traditionally, saplings of 2-3" caliper (diameter) are planted, which can mean $250/tree plus the cost of digging a big hole to accommodate the root ball. Trees that size quickly eat up the budget and the amount of staff time available for planting.

Trees along streets and in parking lots provide many benefits. By shading pavement and transpiring, they keep the town cooler in summer. They catch some of the rain and thus reduce runoff; they absorb some pollutants from the air, sequester carbon, soften the lines of urban spaces. So, is there any alternative to the current steady attrition?

During periodic visits to my old haunts in Durham, NC, I started noticing much smaller trees being planted along streets. This maple's about an inch in diameter, five or six feet high, and is steadied by a simple, reusable stake and ring assembly. If the trees flourish, the advantages are easy to see. Not only is each tree much cheaper, but the hole needed to plant it is much smaller. Small bare-root trees mean less weight to transport, easier handling during planting to insure proper positioning in the hole, and more opportunity for volunteer participation. We have what appears to be a win-win.

A general search of the web yielded no information about the relative benefits of planting younger trees. So I ended up calling Durham's arborist, Alex Johnson, to find out how this approach is doing.

More detailed notes are below, but here's the upshot: Planting 1" caliper, 5-6 feet high, bare-root trees greatly increased the number of trees that could be planted (from 100 to 500), with less followup care, more potential for volunteer participation, and comparable survival rates. In other words, if we want to shade our streets and parking lots with a limited budget, these smaller trees appear to be the way to go.

As with any new idea, this one will have to run the gauntlet of doubt, swim through a sea of skepticism, then jump through a daunting series of logistical hoops--a triathlon that thus far has discouraged any and all rivals from even showing up. These little-trees-that-could might not get much respect when they're first planted, but my observation is that time is good at playing tricks on people, and whether its trees or kids, they grow up before you know it. Among the logistics is finding a nursery that can deliver this size tree, because of the curious route most nursery trees take to market (described below).

Here are more detailed notes from an extended conversation with Alex:

Advantages of planting younger, smaller caliper trees along streets:

• Less followup care. Younger trees establish faster. Every inch of caliper = an extra year of followup care. 
• Easier planting: A smaller caliper tree means a smaller hole to dig, which means less mechanization (volunteers can do more of the work), and less chance of hitting water or telecommunication lines (the info on the location of lines is not always accurate). 

• Much cheaper: For each 6 foot tall bare root "liner", the cost is $14-22 for the tree, $2 for the plastic wraparound guard at base (weedwhipper protection), and $10 for the stake plus the "T-Mato" that holds the tree in place. The stake/T-Mato can be reused. Total cost is $25-35/tree.
• Within 2 years, you have a 2" caliper tree, especially with followup watering.
• Similar attrition to larger caliper sizes: Though injury is more likely with smaller caliper trees, survival is better. With no followup watering, bag and burlap trees had 20% attrition, compared to 5% for bare root.

Disadvantages of planting these smaller, bare root trees:

• There's a smaller window for planting bareroot stock. In NC, they are dug in January. (Note: My guess is that a shorter planting window could actually be beneficial, since the need to get them in the ground quickly, once delivered, creates the necessary urgency that will mobilize people. Otherwise, the human tendency, evident when it comes to getting plants in the ground, is to procrastinate indefinitely.)
• Injury is more likely, though this danger can be reduced by using the plastic guard at the base to protect against weedwhippers, and the metal stake discourages mowers from getting too close. (Personal observation: Snow pushed up by snowplows could be an issue, but a small tree planted by a neighbor in the extension in Princeton survived the harsh winter of 2014.)
• More pruning required: Smaller trees will need more lower branches removed as they grow.
• Sight line issues near corners: Small trees can interfere with sight line triangles at intersections, so larger trees should be planted near corners.

Avoid containerized material. Alex cites the research of Ed Gillman of the U. of Florida in Gainsville. Pots affect root viability. As seedlings are moved from one pot size to another, each time the roots expand, then spiral, so that one ends up with saplings with compromised circulatory systems. Conducting post mortems on trees that have died prematurely can be instructive.

One good option is to go with bare root saplings, which are available from nurseries that provide material for other nurseries. He plants "nursery liners"--trees so named because they have been grown in a line at a nursery. They can be derived from cuttings or grafts. He prefers cuttings, because grafts have compatibility issues. The benefits of using bare root stock are described well at this link.

There's been a tendency to plant oversized trees. A lot of nurseries went under during the recession, due to a consequent drop in housing starts and town budgets, both of which reduce the amount of planting going on. This means nurseries got overstocked with big trees and stopped planting new "liners".

To avoid oversized trees, he's had to go farther afield to find a nursery with the stock he needs--in Tennessee. However, he thinks there are lots of nurseries in our area. He mentioned Shiktel's, up near Cornell, as one of many. A subsequent call to Shiktel's suggests that it is an excellent nursery, but isn't the sort that provides $20 trees. Their minimum size is 1.5", and a hydrogel treatment to better insure survival of the bare roots brings the per tree cost to $75. Shipping is extra. Interestingly, they say that most trees grown in eastern nurseries start their lives out west, e.g. Oregon, where a long growing season allows the trees to make a quick start. The trees then are shipped east, go through a shorter growing season that makes them less leggy, after which they are ready to sell. Shipping of bare root trees from Shiktel's is either the first two weeks of November or the last two weeks of April. Finding a $20 tree will require finding one of those "nurseries that provide material for other nurseries".

An alternative to bare root is bagged and burlapped trees. Volunteers can plant B and B's up to 2 inch caliper. A 1 inch caliper B and B could cost as little as $40. 

Regulations

There may be regulations that require a minimum caliper size for planting, but these should be relevant to new developments rather than replacements in existing areas.

Promotions to Increase Volunteer Participation
For volunteers, he goes to neighborhood associations. For 2-3 foot trees given to homeowners (not necessarily to be planted near streets), he suggests partnering with local coffee shops so that homeowners get a free coffee if they come in with a selfie of themselves and the planted tree.

For tree forums, he recommended thegrove.americangrove.org. Each state has a group, including New Jersey. There's also the Alliance for Community Trees (ACT), and the Society for Municipal Arborists, which is more technical.

Princeton Raingarden Update

Many people have asked me for an update on the raingarden that was bulldozed at Spruce Circle on Harrison Street this past August. The loss of the raingarden, planted on Housing Authority land next to Harrison Street, came as a shock, given I'd been taking care of it for six years. The story gained considerable additional attention when my post was published on the local news site, PlanetPrinceton.com. Since the Housing Authority's apology a week later, I have been working with Housing staff and others to develop a plan not only for replanting of the original raingarden, but assessment of other locations where raingardens could be planted as well.

The aim of these plantings goes beyond aesthetics. The importance of pollinators for food security is more in the news lately, as is the uncertain fate of the monarch butterfly's miraculous migration. All of this is getting people to look at landscapes with the needs of pollinators in mind.

That's what we were doing at Redding Circle last week, in a detention basin at the corner of Ewing Street and Mount Lucas, hidden behind a fence, where the runoff from a Housing Authority complex accumulates before being piped into Harry's Brook. "We" was Housing facilities staffer Jim, Brian Marsh of Partners for Fish and Wildlife, Heidi Fictenbaum of the Princeton Environmental Commission, and Greg O'Neil of Princeton public works. Heidi, in an initiative parallel to my own, has developed an inventory of Princeton's many detention basins, with the aim of retrofitting as many as possible for habitat.

The question being pondered was how to turn a detention basin filled with exotic fescue, stiltgrass, and invasive porcelainberry vines into a foodfest for pollinators, while actually reducing the maintenance Jim and his staff need to do.

When standing in a rather drab detention basin talking for 45 minutes, it helps to be all the while visualizing a field full of New England Aster and late boneset, like these that are prospering along Nassau Street in front of the Whole Earth Center. The magic of raingardens and their larger cousins, detention basins, is that the soil is more frequently wet. That wetness means easier planting and weeding in the soft soils, less followup watering, and increased chance that the native species so well adapted to growing in wet, sunny ground will thrive.

We came up with a plan, jotted down and sent around by Heidi: Reduce mowing to once every year or two, knock out the porcelainberry vines, plant native wildflowers in the wettest, lowest part of the basin, and close the gate so the deer have a harder time getting in.

I then took Brian--whose federal Partners agency has helped with basin conversions in the past--at the Princeton High School and at Farmview Fields--on a whirlwind "great basins of Princeton" tour, to see if we could turn additional basins into aesthetic feeding stations to support pollinators. The massive one in this photo is just up from the Charter School. Again, it helps, when looking at this mass of undifferentiated turf with its existential "sidewalk to nowhere" running down the middle, to imagine schoolkids helping to plant shrubs and wildflowers, and returning the next year to learn about the sorts of pollinators that make their lunch possible.

Next stop was Smoyer Park, which has a promising basin that receives runoff from the parking lot. A meadow would provide better filtration of the runoff than a mowed lawn. We also visited a basin out Rosedale Road at Greenway Meadows.

Unfortunately, Partners for Fish and Wildlife, like most federal agencies, have been hampered by Congress' sequestering of funding, so may not be able to help out as much as in the past. Still, there's a chance they can do enough to kickstart this local initiative.

Meanwhile, back at the Spruce Circle location, replanting of the bulldozed raingarden could include replacement of these winged euonymus shrubs, which are constantly overgrowing their location and have made for a jarring visual behind the rain garden. To be planted in their place, if the plan is approved, would be something similar to this--a mix of Virginia sweetspire, Fothergilla, highbush blueberry and oak-leaved hydrangia.

The moral of this story, still early in the telling, is to turn lemons into lemonade. Or, for those who think like a pollinator: turn turf into nectar.

Related post from 2012.

Events This Week: Bees, Monarchs, and Eating Alabama

Tuesday, October 21, Noah Wilson-Rich talks about his book— The Bee: A Natural History, 6pm at Labyrinth Books on Nassau Street

Thursday, October 23, Panel Discussion: Monarch Butterfly: Species in Crisis, 7pm at the Princeton Public Library

Friday, October 24, film, Eating Alabama, 7pm at the Princeton Public Library


The list of panelists for the monarch event is as follows:

Maraleen Manos-Jones, Lecturer (apparently the first non-native to find the monarchs' overwintering location in Mexico)
Michael Gochfeld, Professor, Rutgers University (co-wrote the book Butterflies in New Jersey)
Robert Somes, Biologist, NJ Nongame and Endangered Species Program, DEP. Flo Rutherford, Chief Guide & Caretaker, Butterfly Atrium, World of Wings Museum

Training Deer To Eat Invasives

I first noticed it on the Veblen House grounds, where some volunteers at a Rotary workday had cut down a multiflora rose bush that had long stood in a knotty tangle in the bed of iris in front of the house. The volunteers, Steve and Teresa, braved the thorns, cut the stems and dragged the giant weed over to a pile at the edge of the woods. The intelligent thing to do next in that situation would have been to treat the cut stems with a tiny squirt of 20% glyphosate that would then transfer into the roots and prevent any resprouting. I didn't, though, choosing not to wield chemicals during a workday. The intent was to follow up later, so the shrub wouldn't regrow.

Fortunately, no followup has been necessary. The shrub has not grown beyond the stubs. So what's going on? Two things are stunting the shrub. Some of the leaves are red--an indication that the rose is being attacked by rose rosette disease. But in addition, the deer are eating the fresh sprouts. Herein lies reason for hope. High deer numbers in combination with invasive species has long been spelling trouble for ecological balance. The deer are accustomed to eating native plants, which gives exotic plants a competitive advantage in forests and fields. Every land manager has dreamed of the day when deer would take a liking to exotic invaders and give the natives a break.

Nearby in Herrontown Woods, there's more good news to feed that dream--another invasive exotic, winged euonymus, that was cut down and hasn't regrown despite lack of treatment with herbicide. Its shoots, too, show signs of having been browsed repeatedly by deer.

So, here's a concept: By cutting invasive shrubs at a convenient height along pathways that deer frequent, we can tempt them with tender (re)sprouts of the invasive species they would ordinarily reject. Once accustomed to eating the tender sprouts, they might start eating the more mature vegetation. It would be a boon for the deer, since most woods are packed with invasive shrubs--a potential food supply that up to now has gone begging.

There may be an art to this, or at least some craftiness. Since deer are creatures of habit, it may mean learning their routes, cutting where they are most likely to pass by, at times of year when they are the hungriest. And might deer take a visual cue--if the resprouts are cut with clippers, might a deer see that as evidence of browsing by other deer, and conclude that it must be edible?

In any case, it's a way to entertain hope, and possibly enlist deer as partial allies.

Walking Through Herrontown Woods

For those looking for a place to walk on a brisk fall day, here are some photos of Herrontown Woods taken yesterday. The trails are clear, thanks to the Friends of Herrontown Woods, and dry, thanks to the weather. Visitors to the woods that is in fact a woods will find some nice color on the mapleleaf Viburnums,

and dappled boulders blooming in the creekbed.

The day included two sightings of pileated woodpeckers.

Look up when the trail comes near a stream, and you may see the flowers of witch hazel about ten feet overhead.

It was a good year for the berries of Viburnums,

winterberry,

and even one patch of Hearts 'a Burstin', also known as strawberry bush or Euonymus americana.

Near the parking lot, there's a demonstration of the rot resistance of heartwood,

and a demonstration of nutrient recycling rendered as fall beauty--leaves in their natural habitat.

Herrontown Woods is accessed by car or bike, across Snowden Lane from the entrance to Smoyer Park.

A related website and initiative can be found at VeblenHouse.org.

See some of Sally Curtis' photos of Herrontown Woods at the Friends of Herrontown Woods facebook page.