Last month, The Lady Slipper introduced a new column, Kentucky Yard Restoration. In that premiere article, Karen Cairns describes her restoration project as a labor of love. I think most of us can identify with that statement.

Years ago, I planted natives for the birds and butterflies, without realizing that I was providing habitat for many other Kentucky creatures. I lived in an ordinary neighborhood with a few old trees, a small back yard, and houses in every direction but up. The birds came. The butterflies came. But so did the frogs, box turtles, rabbits, raccoons, and bees. I still get goosebumps when I remember finding that first bullfrog.

One morning, I found a neighbor in my backyard wandering around looking at it all. He asked how we installed the small pond–and when I say small, I mean it. But it was cozy enough for the green frog who took up residence there.

Each August, the hummingbirds were so numerous and bold, they would fly between our heads while sitting in our bench swing. I once had one check me out by hovering about a foot from my face and squeaking at me for a bit. What she was telling me, I don’t know, but I cried. I just stood there and cried because the interaction was so amazing.

Over the years, I noticed that some species were more abundant than others, and we began referring to things that happened during “titmouse summer,” “red-winged blackbird summer,” and so on. We had a pair of rose-breasted grosbeaks that stopped by Mother’s Day weekend without fail for many years. A red-winged blackbird flew in at the same time every day to chat with our dog. After a hard storm, a pair of bluebirds took refuge until they were strong enough to rebuild. They returned often to feed their offspring.

When we moved, I started over. Our new home had a Bradford pear tree and some holly bushes. If you think I despaired, you are wrong. I was excited, and I started all over again. After ten years, my home is surrounded by trees, shrubs, flowers and grasses–almost all native. The backyard bumps up to a field that connects with a wild and protected area. My backyard blends right into that field. Some might call it ugly; I think it’s beautiful. It is habitat, and now I take stewardship seriously–so seriously, that my mantra has become “Every yard matters.”

If we can convince a few of our neighbors to return just a small section of their yards to the wild, we can reconnect to the wild in a way most of us think impossible. Imagine the corridors of habitat we could create. Many will be slow to adopt to this idea, but we must try. We have no choice if we are to become the stewards we are meant to be. I want my children, my grandchildren, and my great-grandchildren to know the joy of discovering a frog in their small pond. We don’t all start out with stewardship as our end goal, but that’s where a restoration project takes us.

We want to share your yard reclamation stories. You don’t have to be a great writer–we only need your passion and your story. Please consider sharing your Kentucky Yard Restoration story. You can contact us at LadySlipper@knps.org.

By Susan Harkins and Jonathan O.C. Kubesch 

A recommendation to not use landscaping cloth in flower beds, is usually met with a lot of resistance. Laying cloth is standard practice among professional landscapers and home gardeners. However, as we become more aware of the importance of natives in our landscaping, it’s also time to give up the cloth. There’s nothing natural about it, and it works against you in native plantings. Initially, landscaping cloth sounds like a great idea, but in the end, it is usually more trouble than it’s worth and there are a number of reasons why.  

Cloth compacts the soil 

Compacted soil is not a natural growing medium regardless of what you’re planting. You want loose crumbling soil that drains well and has plenty of nutrients. Plants grow better when their roots are allowed to grow easily, and water and nutrient intake is easy. Under landscape cloth, you will find compacted soil—it’s hard to dig and plants are seldom as healthy as they should be.  

After installing landscape fabric, soil quickly begins to lose its crumbly, granular structure. In nature, many natives require that spongy surface in order to grow and establish. A side effect of sealing the soil surface is that it hinders recruitment of many delicate natives from existing plants.  

Now consider that cloth seldom stays where you put it. Usually, it’ll work its way to the surface, where it’s ugly. Sometimes cloth goes deeper into the soil. Eventually, you could plant right over it, never knowing it’s just an inch or so below your new planting and that will definitely affect that plant’s health.  

Weeding is more difficult 

Initially, cloth will deter weeds, but nature is tougher than the cloth. Eventually, the weeds will return and guess what? Pulling those weeds will be a nightmare because that layer of cloth is under the surface acting as an anchor! You’ll have to dig it out most likely and doing so will leave a hole in the fabric, which means more weeds. While you might have fewer weeds, those weeds will be more difficult to remove. Wild violets (Viola spp) are notorious for rooting into imperfections in landscape fabrics.  

If that weren’t enough, consider what these cloths are made of: petroleum and other chemicals, which leach into your soil. As we become more environmentally aware, landscaping cloth is no longer a reasonable choice.  

Long term, landscape fabric doesn’t allow the gardener to shift landscapes in tune with horticultural and environmental trends. It arrests the landscape because it takes a fair deal of work to remove and can be a pain to remove around existing plants.  

Cost 

Landscaping cloth isn’t expensive until you consider how much of it you need to cover all your landscaping and native beds. You’ll also need pins to hold it down. To hide it, you’ll cover it with mulch. It adds up, and it’s totally unnecessary. A more natural alternative is old newspapers covered in wood or straw mulch. While these barriers will eventually break down, they are easier to work with over the years and provide better water flow into the soil.

Reseeding 

Many natives propagate by self-seeding. Landscaping cloth makes that close to impossible because the seeds never make contact with the soil underneath the cloth. What happens when you want to add new plants? You must cut the cloth to add plants, bulbs, and so on. Every hole in the fabric is an opportunity for weed seeds in the underlying soil to germinate and break through.  

While your natives may fail to reseed because of the cloth, weeds are different. Seeds traveling by air or deposited by birds and other small mammals won’t mind the lack of soil a bit. They’ll sprout in the mulch and send their strong roots through the cloth.  

It isn’t natural 

There’s nothing natural—or native—about landscaping fabric. If your motivation is stewardship, I probably don’t need to say anything else. Regardless of whether it’s under mulch, rock, or even soil, a cloth barrier traps creatures below ground. You’re killing creatures that live in the soil and keep it healthy!

When you hike in the woods, you don’t see landscaping cloth. Remember, you’re trying to create, or mimic, a natural environment. In looking to mimic native systems, consider materials that you see in the woods or meadows. Leaves and duff, as well as thatch or straw, are the natural mulches in ecosystems. They provide a level of control on the weedier species, but they also break down over time to support new plants. While we may not mimic that same level of space and time variability in our yards, using natural materials is important! 

What to use instead 

Establishing a new bed takes work with or without putting down landscaping cloth but eliminating that cloth will save you some labor and money. What you use to reduce weeds is up to you and the soil’s health should be a factor. If it’s compacted, amend with organic matter before you do anything else. Rototilling the area isn’t necessary and actually destroys soil composition, so avoid rototilling unless the soil is severely compacted.  

Remove turf or cover it with layers of cardboard or newspaper to smoother it. Both will quickly degrade and help amend the soil. Wet the cardboard or paper to keep it in place. The next step is a few inches of good arborist chips. You can buy mulch, but most tree servicing companies will gladly dump a nice mound of chips for free. Chips aren’t consistent in size and color, so they look more natural—more like a forest floor. They degrade quickly though and will need supplementing often if you continue to use chips.  

If you plant immediately, cut through the cardboard and plant in the ground and keep the area well watered until the plants are well established.

You can avoid remulching eventually, by using native groundcovers as green or living mulch. It takes a few seasons, but eventually your plantings will be so full that few weeds can’t set up home. You will still have to weed occasionally but maintaining this spot will be much easier than if you laid cloth underneath.  

Meadowscapes and other areas where a mix of native species provide aesthetic vistas at lower maintenance requirements than traditionally manicured beds. Using grassland species will require occassional mowing or spin-trimming, but these areas are great for self-mulching and weed control. 

We add natives to our yards for several reasons. Mine started with a love of birds, butterflies, frogs, bugs, and so on. At the time I wasn’t thinking about being a good steward of the land, but that is what happened. Regardless of why you plant natives, you will approach the addition as you would any other flower bed by preparing the area, and if that includes landscaping cloth, please stop and reassess your decision.