Photos by Beth Kleinpeter
Helianthus augustifolius
Helianthus augustifolius
I live off Highway 61, the “Blues Highway”—a particularly lovely place to find oneself this time of year. The railroad tracks, large empty swaths of land, and seemingly abandoned old businesses and homesteads offer totally outstanding wildflower and native grass displays. I especially look forward to the days when the ironweed, switchgrasses, bluestems, and goldenrods burst open in bloom, bending in the wind alongside this road. My favorite fall plant pair to encounter, though, is swamp sunflower and sugar cane plume grass. The combination, in such mass, is worth a drive from just about anywhere, if you ask me. I’ve jumped out of my car, many a time, to wander through the gilt and burgundy floral dance.
Fall is the culminating time for native grasses, which bloom alongside the asters and goldenrods, heralding the changing of the seasons. They come with varying and, sometimes, bold characteristics, yet maintain a special place within the home perennial garden or meadow. I find in my work, as a garden designer and nursery woman, that the general public shies away from grasses. They don’t buy them, they don’t plant them; they don’t seem to understand them.
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These diverse and beneficial grasses are just too valuable to be left to the railroad tracks, remaining prairie remnants, and roadsides. So, here I hope to raise their profile, and share why we should be planting more native grasses and bringing them closer to us.
Wildlife
Native grasses are remarkably beneficial to our wildlife. So many people want to garden for birds and other pollinators, yet often overlook the role that grasses play. The sturdy blades provide important habitat and building materials for birds, small mammals, and reptiles. The seed heads, left through winter, offer an imperative food source for birds and other wildlife to graze through the dormant growing season.
If you live somewhere without excess city light, grasses can also make great habitat for fireflies, which use native grasses in their mating process. I have seen clients in even dark corners of major cities (especially when the corner is adjacent to a greenspace of sorts) bring in fireflies, to my disbelief, by using native grasses (planted with other native trees and plants).
[Read this: "Let the Leaves Fall Where They May"]
It is important to preserve grasses within their natural habitats, but also to bring within the residential realm—especially if we hope to foster a healthy and diverse ecosystem at home, too. Grasses can easily be incorporated into meadows in a yard of grasses and perennials, or into a more curated landscape design.
I choose to leave my grasses untouched all winter. Come spring, instead of cutting them back, I use a soft rake to remove all the spent blades from the previous growing season. This is a lovely trick I gleaned from the horticulturalists at the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center. The method is better for habitat and looks more lovely than a complete cut-back would.
Fall is the culminating time for native grasses, which bloom alongside the asters and goldenrods, heralding the changing of the seasons
Long Roots: Erosion Control, Drought Tolerance, Water Absorption
Native grasses have deep, deep roots—usually more than five feet, and often surpassing fifteen. These long and vast root systems are of enormous benefit for a variety of reasons. When planted strategically, these valuable roots help reduce erosion and water run-off, storing water deep into the ground and reducing overall flooding. They can withstand drought and, en masse—when established and mature—have the power to store enormous amounts of carbon within the earth. Wearing many hats, these grasses provide excellent ecosystem restoration services.
Design
In landscape design, grasses can add quick growth, medium height, fullness, muted color hues, and above all else, texture. I think one reason many shy away from designing or planting with grasses in the residential realm is a fear they are just “too wild” looking. Yes, they can be wild, but they also can be tamed or used strategically. I find that with a really clean line alongside/near them, they can appear neat and fit within various design styles. As my fancy gardening magazine subscriptions endlessly remind me, the English are masters of this.
[Read this: "5 Reasons to Plant a Tree"]
Alternatively, in the naturalistic perennial garden, grasses have an imperative symbiotic relationship with flowering perennials. One of my favorite combinations is little bluestem grass planted amongst mass cone flowers (Echinacea purpurea and a variety of rudbeckias, most especially). There are also shorter native grasses (Chasmanthium latifolium and Muhlenbergia capillaris, among many others) to choose from.
But perhaps my favorite thing about native grasses is their song. They are among the most audible plants, especially come winter when their fronds have browned and grown brittle, and a gentle breeze becomes our norm.
A Sensory Masterpiece
Grasses appeal to so many of our senses, creating a really beautiful sensory experience. The textures are unparalleled, offering year-round visual interest. But perhaps my favorite thing about native grasses is their song. They are among the most audible plants, especially come winter when their fronds have browned and grown brittle, and a gentle breeze becomes our norm. I love, in the depths of winter, standing quietly along a creek or river lined with switchgrass or typha (cattails).
