The Time Is Now
Amid the biodiversity crisis and a changing climate, we need to ask more than beauty of our landscapes.
In an ever developing world, the domain of mother nature is shrinking daily. We can no longer relegate nature to “the wild places” because there are simply not enough to sustain her. Every 30 seconds, a football field worth of America’s natural area is lost to development and only 13% of our land is a protected area.
The results of this are plain to see. We have lost 90% of our monarch butterfly population, nearly a third of our birds, and our bees are dying mid-flight from neonic insecticides. These losses have resulted in 1 in 3 bird, half our amphibian, and over 800 plant species becoming threatened with extinction. With 600 million acres of pasture, 400 million acres of cropland, 68 million acres of city, and 40 million acres of lawn, is it really surprising? Since the 1600s, we have lost 75% of our old growth forest and 99% of our remnant prairies. This has all happened at a breakneck pace not only in terms of geologic time, but also on a human scale. At the beginning of the 19th century, New England was 80% forested; by 1830 it had been reduced to only 20%.
These numbers alone are staggering, but it doesn’t stop there. Our remaining old growth forests, remnant prairie, and protected areas are under siege. Invaders from across the oceans are wiping out our native flora, and with them, fauna. Plants that have not evolved here as part of our native ecosystem, have no checks or balances, no predators to eat them, no diseases to slow them down, and so they spread unimpeded. Some of them even release chemicals in the soil that inhibit the growth and germination of other species, as though brute force wasn’t enough. Diverse native ecosystems are wiped out and replaced with exotic monocultures that provide virtually nothing for our birds and pollinators. It’s not just plants either; chestnut blight, dutch elm disease, oak wilt, beech bark and leaf disease, emerald ash borer, hemlock wooly adelgid, and spotted lantern fly are wreaking havoc on our forested ecosystems.
While some invasive species have originated from shipping industry accidents, many are the direct result of horticulture. 85% of the woody invasive species we are fighting today escaped past cultivation. American Chestnuts are also a casualty of horticulture. Around 1904, Chestnut blight arrived on Japanese Chestnut trees; in only 40 years nearly 4 billion trees were lost. It is estimated that in some areas, 1 in every 4 hardwood trees was an American Chestnut.
Still today, 90% or more of the species in a typical residential or commercial landscape are non-native species. Like their invasive counterparts, these exotic plants provide virtually nothing for our floundering bird and pollinator populations. Many even host the invasive insects and diseases that threaten our ecosystems.
Included with these exotic species are our “beautiful, flawless and perfectly green” lawns. 92% of land use in suburban environments is turf. The largest irrigated crop in the America? Lawn. Landscape irrigation accounts for nearly 9 billion gallons of water use, per day. Not only does all this grass require enormous amounts of inputs and maintenance, it is also a prime contributor to storm water runoff. Water is shed very quickly off lawn areas with little absorption due to compacted soils and turf’s shallow root system. As this water streams over the lawn and into the nearest storm drain, it carries with it all the excess fertilizer, pesticide, and fungicide that’s been applied to maintain it’s lush appearance. Contrary to popular conception, most storm sewers do not head to a treatment plant, they outlet directly in our waterways. Fertilizer runoff is one of the primary causes of algal blooms that toxify our waters and kill our fish.
The human component in all of this is undeniable.
Yet, while the situation is dire, as we have been the problem, so can we be the solution. We must continue to develop lands, for we are human and we must provide. Lawns will continue to have their place, as they are the locations of our outdoor activities and gatherings. The question becomes how do we develop, and what amount of lawn is actually utilized and worth maintaining?
If we can develop lands with an attitude of ecological stewardship instead of environmental domination, shouldn’t we? If we can replace even a small portion of our lawn with a beautiful, diverse, and native ecosystem that supports our birds and pollinators, why aren’t we? If we can sequester carbon in our landscapes, why don’t we? If it’s possible to clean our storm water while helping it to infiltrate our soils, and recharge our aquifers, why do we let it run off and pollute our waterways? How long must we wait before another invasive species escapes our gardens?