Darwinian gardening 2 Jan 2008 For some time now I have told anyone who didn’t get away fast enough that I am a Darwinian Gardener: any plant that survives my total lack of care deserves to be there until it gets in my way. After the fact, I justify it that I am letting native plants flourish, but really, I’m just lazy and don’t care. Now I find that someone else has hit on the same philosophy. And in Florida, no less. But it is mine, mine, I say! Humor
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That was my philosophy when I lived in Florida, too. Living on the edge of the jungle (well, OK, lowland forest) as I did, trying to keep the natives out of the garden was pretty pointless. Instead, I lived with an incredible assortment of plants and animals, including a den of foxes, deer, armadillos, and at least three dozen raccoons who became very social with me after a couple of years of interaction. Some of them even learned names I gave them. We got three generations of baby raccoons visiting at the back door. With all that, who the heck cares about a couple of rose bushes?
That was my philosophy when I lived in Florida, too. Living on the edge of the jungle (well, OK, lowland forest) as I did, trying to keep the natives out of the garden was pretty pointless. Instead, I lived with an incredible assortment of plants and animals, including a den of foxes, deer, armadillos, and at least three dozen raccoons who became very social with me after a couple of years of interaction. Some of them even learned names I gave them. We got three generations of baby raccoons visiting at the back door. With all that, who the heck cares about a couple of rose bushes?
That was my philosophy when I lived in Florida, too. Living on the edge of the jungle (well, OK, lowland forest) as I did, trying to keep the natives out of the garden was pretty pointless. Instead, I lived with an incredible assortment of plants and animals, including a den of foxes, deer, armadillos, and at least three dozen raccoons who became very social with me after a couple of years of interaction. Some of them even learned names I gave them. We got three generations of baby raccoons visiting at the back door. With all that, who the heck cares about a couple of rose bushes?
That was my philosophy when I lived in Florida, too. Living on the edge of the jungle (well, OK, lowland forest) as I did, trying to keep the natives out of the garden was pretty pointless. Instead, I lived with an incredible assortment of plants and animals, including a den of foxes, deer, armadillos, and at least three dozen raccoons who became very social with me after a couple of years of interaction. Some of them even learned names I gave them. We got three generations of baby raccoons visiting at the back door. With all that, who the heck cares about a couple of rose bushes?
Natural gardens (based on the ecological argument of the need to preserve natural habitats) were very popular amongst the counter-culture in Germany in the 80’s, a fashion that led to a series of notorious court cases. Real gardeners (those with millimetre perfect, weed free lawns and military style herbaceous borders) bringing court actions against their Darwinian neighbours arguing that the latter’s “laziness” caused the spread of weeds into their own perfectly manicured domains, thereby destroying their hours of backbreaking horticultural labour. The German courts decided, in their wisdom, that a man’s garden is his castle, so to speak, and that if someone wishes to cultivate weeds on his own private property then he is entitled to do so.
When I was a kid our neighbours at the back use to practice this form of gardening too. We called it the elephant garden, because of what was rumoured to be hiding in there, along with all the cricket balls we lost. Bob
When I was a kid our neighbours at the back use to practice this form of gardening too. We called it the elephant garden, because of what was rumoured to be hiding in there, along with all the cricket balls we lost. Bob
When I was a kid our neighbours at the back use to practice this form of gardening too. We called it the elephant garden, because of what was rumoured to be hiding in there, along with all the cricket balls we lost. Bob
When I was a kid our neighbours at the back use to practice this form of gardening too. We called it the elephant garden, because of what was rumoured to be hiding in there, along with all the cricket balls we lost. Bob
It can go badly wrong. A couple in the Mojave Desert, a half an hour east of Barstow on the I-40, tired of the bleak desert around them, so they simply watered their property and left things to nature. Very quickly, they got a carpet of bright green growth, which quickly grew into acres of Russian thistle, a native to Eurasian salt marshes, but with no natural enemies in the US. Realizing their plans went wrong, they cut off the water, turning their property into a tumbleweed factory, and a serious fire hazard.
When living in Ft. Collins, CO I did much the same. Our neighbors lawn was beautiful and lush, ours merged smoothly in with the scrub and weeds native to the Rocky Mountains. Between the two yards were some Iris that got watered by his sprinkler, and so were just a beautiful as his yard – on the plus side, we never needed to mow. Xeriscape – the lazy-man’s landscaping! cheers- Eric
Watering is not Good Darwinian Practice. Watering changes the ecotype, and wastes water (there’s too little of it, particularly in the Mojave, I would have thought, to go spraying it on the ground)… I really mean it that I don’t do anything. I once killed a cactus by underwatering it.
I’m sympathetic to this notion of gardening, but not a complete convert. What I want is a yard which suits me, but requires minimum effort on my part. Couple of thoughts: up through 1491, deer lived on an exclusive diet of native plants. Also, a large proportion of the plant species you see around you are likely introduced. Since 1492, deer have broadened their diet.
My aunt (also a botanist is Flordia) actually took this a step further decades ago. She did not even bother to plant anything. Her kitchen compost was called the “Volunteer Garden”. Anything that grew in it was allowed to until it was harvested. Everything else was fertilizer.
I’ve been using that precise phrase — “Darwinian Gardening” — to describe my practice for at least 20 years. You owe me 20 years worth of royalties, John. 🙂