Spring in a native plant habitat is rarely predictable.
From Sunday, April 19, to Sunday, May 17, I wrote down daily notes while managing my 1,600-square-foot native plant habitat certified by the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife’s Habitat at Home program.
The small habitat packs full-shade, partial-shade and sunny light conditions, which has allowed me to grow 78 species that call Washington, Oregon, British Columbia and California home. With many being found in the wildlands of Clark County.
When getting started on a native plant habitat, or using a variety in landscaping, it is crucial to understand your pollinators.
The Vancouver Bee Project states there are over 90 native species of bees in Clark County alone, over 600 in the whole state of Washington. Roughly 90% of bees are solitary, while 70% are ground-dwelling.
It is important to leave bare ground for ground-dwelling bees to call home within the habitat. In four years, I have never purchased mason bees, which can be beneficial, but promoting habitats for wild, native bees will flourish in no time.
Beyond the typical knowledge of bees, hummingbirds and Lepidoptera (butterflies, moths and skippers) as pollinators, there are countless other unsung heroes of the spring. Beetles, ants, flies, other random insects and even crab spiders are all known to pollinate native plants.
Having the biodiversity of 78 plants, rotting wood and rocks for insect cover, compost piles and water sources, the habitat is home to numerous small wildlife species, spiders and more. With the variety of plants and lighting conditions that evolve with the rising and lowering sun position, the bloom season typically stretches from March into October. The lengthy span of flower activity provides pollinators plenty to choose from through the mildest stretch of the year.
Notes from a month in the habitat
One week is defined by rainfall and fresh blooms, while the next can already feel like midsummer drought. Over the course of just a few weeks this spring, my backyard habitat transformed from early woodland blooms into a bustling pollinator meadow, all while facing challenges from invasive rabbits, aphids and unseasonably dry weather.
Around mid-April, the first Camas lilies had begun blooming ahead of schedule, taking advantage of a warm weekend before the main bloom arrived. Multiple dark throat shooting star flowers were already thriving, while trilliums quietly completed their yearly cycle through pollination by ants, beetles and other odd pollinators in the cold, cloudy months of late winter and early spring highlighting one of nature’s lesser-known partnerships. The early blooms of red flowering currant and tall Oregon grape had begun fading, signaling the transition from the early shrub season into my meadow season.
Unfortunately, the dry weather was impossible to ignore.
“Having to water in the middle of April just feels weird,” I wrote in my notes at the time. Established native shrubs already showed signs of drought stress, with some leaves browning weeks earlier than expected. If native shrubs struggled in April, it felt like a troubling sign for the coming summer fire season.
The daily routine also revolved around wildlife depredation checks. Every morning began with seeing what survived the night, particularly from the invasive eastern cottontail rabbits that regularly browse through the plants. The rabbits thoroughly enjoy the growing Camas lilies, lupine and other plants I protect to see bloom each spring and summer. While the habitat is intended to support wildlife, it is frustrating watching invasive species benefit from efforts meant to promote a micro-native ecosystem.
Then there are the aphids.
One year, aphids entirely destroyed my Camas lily bloom before it even happened, sucking the life from flower stalks before the purple blooms could emerge. This year doubled off of last year’s success and became a daily battle of inspections, hand-removal of pests and neem oil sprays to protect the plants long enough for pollination season.
Two years in a row, the combat by hand-removal and neem oil were a success as Camas lilies and other flowers really flashed their best this spring, too.
Rain returned briefly during the third week of April, triggering an explosion of growth almost overnight. Wild ginger bloomed. Fairy bells emerged. Oregon iris flowers prepared to open. The shrubs of the habitat suddenly felt alive again, but not for the long run as the water table is almost nonexistent this spring.
Outside of promoting pollinators and plants, the habitat also gives a home to reptiles and amphibians.
Two small ponds of the habitat act as stability for a pair of common native wildlife species. One pond houses two western painted turtles complete with bulrush and other wetland plants like a skunk cabbage. The other pond hosts a large Indian rhubarb plant and serves as a stable breeding ground for northern pacific tree frogs.
Bird activity intensified, too. A trio of Oregon dark-eyed juncos aggressively defended part of the habitat, eventually revealing why: a ground nest tucked safely among the plants containing three eggs and watched over by three caretakers.
Wild Birds Unlimited describes a third nest caretaker as a “helper,” which is usually a previous offspring. And that checks out. The nest is within a foot of last year’s.
Once the sun started to hit the habitat after the rains, pollinators arrived in force. A queen yellowjacket and a couple bumblebees worked the flowers during cool morning shade before thousands of native ground-dwelling bees took over once the afternoon sun arrived. Later in the season, Oregon iris blooms began slowly opening, attracting small native bees and bumblebees.
Overnight and behind the scenes of the habitat, beetles and flies were hard at work providing their best pollination efforts, too.
As Camas season faded in early May, other plants took center stage. Thimbleberries, Columbian larkspur and rhododendrons burst into bloom. Western columbine began flowering as well, continuing the habitat’s nearly uninterrupted sequence of blooms meant to support pollinators throughout spring and into deep summer, sometimes into the fall.
The aphid war eventually eased, thanks partly to an accidental solution. A non-native cherry tree in its second year of growth became an aphid magnet, drawing pests away from native shrubs. Soon, a lady beetle appeared among the infestation, hopefully laying eggs for larvae that would soon feast on the aphids.
However, the hopes of aphid predation were dwindling as ants protected the aphids. Ants and aphids have an odd mutual partnership, to get rid of aphids, one has to deny the ants access. But, the aphids remained glued to the non-native cherry for two weeks and counting, so I let it be.
During the heat of May, young and old garter snakes feasted on slugs and other prey. Bats swoop at night, catching the annoying insects. Predator and prey acting in unison as factors of a healthy ecosystem working together.
Even in a carefully planned native habitat, nature constantly changes the rules. Every bloom, pest outbreak, rainfall and nesting bird becomes part of a balancing act that unfolds day by day through the season.
