Section 4: More Powerful Ways to Help Heal Earth

Our strategy remains the same: increase photosynthesis and build soil. Plant native trees, flowers, and grasses. Help them attain a long, healthy life. Preserve existing and mature trees. Get rid of lawns. Stop using fertilizers and harmful chemicals. Do everything we can to increase outrageous diversity.

In Section 3 we learned how to plant native saplings, preserve existing trees, and help them achieve long, healthy lives through ideal structure and soil. We learned a handful of ideas that help boost life both below ground and above ground. These actions (and in some cases, inactions) increase photosynthesis, soil, water availability, sequestered carbon, and the abundance and diversity of life. In short, they help heal Earth while also saving us time and money.

In this section, let’s build on what we have learned and increase our ability to achieve our strategy by orders of magnitude. Enter meadows and pocket forests!

Meadows and pocket forests enable us to fill entire communities—neighborhoods, shopping centers, and business parks—with a diversity of native plants. Both are radical departures from traditional landscape paradigms. Though they are more challenging than anything we have learned thus far, these systems are still easier and a heck of a lot more fun than the status quo.

We use meadows full of native flowers and grasses to replace lawns, which are ecological wastelands, as we will learn in Chapter 16. We plant these meadows from seeds, not from individual plants grown in trays (called plugs), which has been the norm for most sub/urban meadows. With pocket forests, we plant saplings in dense groups consisting of many different native species. These take the place of what has typically been one stand-alone tree surrounded by a bed of mulch.

In both cases, by working with communities of plants instead of individual plants, we reduce maintenance requirements considerably. Both systems are cheaper, more resilient, more stable, and more beautiful than the status quo. They also virtually eliminate the need for all the harmful “-cides” we learned about in Section 3.

Best of all, meadows and pocket forests do even more to boost photosynthesis, soil, water, and stored carbon compared to what we have learned thus far. Then, of course, there is the incredible life that both systems help generate and support. To illustrate this, I want to share a personal story:

It was a hot, sweaty June afternoon. I simply could not—or rather, would not—mow my front yard any longer. Growing up, my siblings and I used a small push mower to cut the giant field that surrounded our house. Because of this, I really hated mowing.

On that summer day I decided to plant some trees and shrubs in my front lawn to get rid of the grass. But they were not enough; I needed some smaller plants to fill the gaps. I turned to flowers and ground covers to fill the many open spaces.

Though I knew a good amount about trees and shrubs through my work at Leaf & Limb, back then I knew absolutely nothing about flowers. I was starting from scratch. After some research and a handful of visits to local nurseries, I got to work planting all sorts of new flowers in my front yard.

I quickly discovered that I loved flowers! They bring beauty and a burst of life. I was fascinated by the slow growth and evolution of every plant. They each behave, react, and age differently across seasons. It turns out the Butterfly Bush was not much of a butterfly magnet at all. It’s non-native and provides little food for those who need it. I learned that the real butterfly magnets were native species like Joe Pye weed, coneflowers, and mountain mint. Speaking of butterflies, I’ll never forget the first time a monarch butterfly gently glided into my garden one warm October afternoon to feed on the butterfly milkweed. Its name suits it well; I felt as if royalty had indeed arrived.

As it often happens, my life got busier, especially after I became a father. I was not able to dedicate as much time to my garden. In particular, I could not spend hours every weekend pulling weeds. I began questioning the practice of pulling weeds—why do I have to weed? There is nobody pulling weeds out in the fields and forests. Yet breathtaking ecosystems exist. Perhaps I could recreate this in my yard? So I set out once again to reimagine what my yard could be.

With time, I discovered meadows. Because meadows create a tight-knit community of plants that grow with one another, they are largely able to avoid being invaded and overrun by weeds. I spent a lot of time learning about these ecosystems through research, visiting Piedmont Prairies across North Carolina, and experimentation. I planted two meadows: one in my backyard and one in the front yard. Next I converted my neighbor’s front yard from lawn into meadow, after he graciously allowed me to experiment with his space.

I found that a meadow requires patience; nothing about it is fast or provides any sort of instant gratification. But once it gets going, a meadow is incredible. It requires little maintenance—essentially only one cut per year—and no watering, fertilization, pesticides, or treatments of any kind. These plant communities form deep and dense roots that build rich soil to great depths. I learned first-hand that they suck down an incredible amount of water. Before meadows, I used to have streams of water flow through my yard during rain events. I had a small rain garden that would quickly fill to the brim before overflowing. Once the meadows were established, those streams disappeared and the rain garden rarely filled.

But the best part was that my meadows were wild with life. I had no idea that we have so many different types of bees in North Carolina! Some drone about like fluffy blimps while others zip from flower to flower like hyperactive hummingbirds. Some shine green, some cut leaves, and some dig holes. I saw an assassin bug for the first time and watched transfixed as it stalked after its prey through the dense goldenrod. After a few seasons, male anoles appeared. During hot summer afternoons I would spot them signaling potential mates with their red throats. Apparently, the red throats worked because I noticed a cohort of smaller anoles some months later. I watched as butterflies soared in for landings like planes at a busy airport. Five bats began showing up each evening to swoop around for food. I remember walking outside one morning before sunrise and hearing two great horned owls for the first time. My skin prickled and I stood silently, soaking in their haunting calls for as long as they would linger. I had never seen bats or owls in downtown Raleigh, but I knew why they showed up—mine was the yard with an abundance of life.

I felt deeply connected to this little vibrant ecosystem. I still do. This connection grows with time. I love this place, and all the life in it—I never could have anticipated how much it would change my life for the better.

This brings me to my final highlight for meadows and pocket forests: they are a place where life thrives, my own included.

Before we dive into the details, I want to share a video to provide inspiration. Keep in mind that I am not a landscape designer of any kind. All I did was measure the space, assess basic site conditions (sun and water), decide approximately where to put each system, and then install the plants using the methods outlined in the next two chapters. There is nothing fancy; I’m simply putting together the basic parts from this book. The outcome is incredible.