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Of Patience and Pawpaws

The pawpaws hang heavy this week, ready for giant sloths or mastodons who will never come to feast. This ancient tree species’ original seed dispersers are long extinct, so it’s up to other megafauna, namely us humans, to carry on their family names. Pawpaw seeds are large, and bears are few here.

Perhaps the raccoons, groundhogs, foxes and turtles can help, even if they move seeds only a short distance. Clearly they’ve been trying to do their part. This morning I found several nibbled fruits on the ground and one high branch half-broken—likely by a furry friend who’d gone too far out on a limb for the delectable treats.

First planted as bareroot saplings, the pawpaw grove has taken nearly 20 years to become fruitful enough for both human and more-than-human appetites. I’m grateful to be home now to enjoy a few bites myself, after a long and productive season of travel, events, podcasts, magazine deadlines, and protests. My wanderings even included two visits to the Kansas City region, first to deliver the keynote for the Plan it Native Conference and then to present at the International Monarch Science Symposium.

Although I love these opportunities for community-building and connection, I have a healthy dose of FOMO whenever I’m away, as my mind fills with wonder about what’s going on in our always-busy habitat: Who has hatched? Who is eating the chokeberries? Have the thistles started to bloom yet? Coming home offers just as much of an adventure as leaving.

Thanks to everyone who has signed up for my updates and waited patiently for your first edition. I’m still catching up on private messages, but rest assured you will hear from me; I treasure your feedback, questions and friendships. Please keep it coming, and be sure to check out my fall event schedule.

Beyond Flowers: Decaying leaves are as important as live plants

Hickory horned devils, caterpillars of the royal walnut moth, overwinter as pupae underground. Most moths and butterflies shelter in place in winter.

Monarch butterflies are “gateway bugs,” sparking interest in animals and plants who share our world. But while I love these iconic insects (and even study them—see below!), I worry that the singular focus on such an exceptional species sometimes overshadows the needs of thousands of others with very different needs.

As these snowbirds—or really, snowbugs—decamp for Mexico and coastal California to overwinter in tree roosts, most insects remain homebodies, nestling down in decaying plant matter to survive the cold season. When our resident wild neighbors are out of sight, they’re unfortunately also out of mind for many gardeners.

“We assume that if they’re not right in our faces, they’ve gone somewhere else,” says University of Maryland associate professor of entomology Karin Burghardt. “That perception can be a little bit dangerous because it doesn’t acknowledge the fact that a lot of these creatures need other resources for other parts of their life cycles.”

In fact, a recent study by Burghardt and Max Ferlauto found a 45% reduction in moth and butterfly numbers in lawns cleared of leaves vs. those where leaves remained. Spiders decreased by up to 67%, beetles by 24%, and ichneumon wasps—solitary, nonstinging parasitoids that help vegetable gardeners by laying eggs in caterpillars and beetle larvae—dropped by 56%. Shredding leaves is often touted as a viable alternative to removal, but Burghardt and Ferlauto found that butterfly and moth numbers decline just as precipitously. Read more in my column, “Beyond Flowers,” in the July-August 2025 issue of American Gardener.

Join Monarch Rx: Help reveal the mysteries of a little-known behavior

Even though monarch butterflies don’t rely on spent leaves for winter shelter, they do use dried plant parts for a completely different purpose. If you’ve ever seen one probing a wilting leaf, flower or stem and wondered what the heck they’re doing, we’ve got an answer for you: They’re gathering alkaloids to protect themselves from predators and parasites!

Plants in a number of families are known to contain these compounds, called PAs (pyrrolizidine alkaloids), but not all are visited by monarchs. To learn more about this important but little-known aspect of monarch biology, we first need to determine which plants the butterflies rely on for PAs. My collaborator, chemical ecologist Michael Boppré, and I set up a project called Monarch Rx for just that purpose. Nationwide, volunteers have documented monarchs probing dried and wilting late boneset, blue mistflower, Joe Pye, Virginia bluebells, gravelbar brickellbush, dogfennel, marbleseed, borage, and comfrey.

But we need many more observations. Please look out for monarchs extending their proboscises onto wilting and dried plants—or even green leaves with holes. This type of plant damage is essential to the process; insects detect and access PAs only from injured or senescing plant parts. Take videos and photos (zoom in from a distance if possible so you don’t scare monarchs away), and join our Monarch Rx iNaturalist page to upload your observation. To learn more, visit our new Monarch Rx website, launched at last month’s International Monarch Science Symposium.

Where Have All the Fireflies Gone? Impacts & Effective Alternatives to Mosquito Spraying

I stepped up my ongoing efforts to educate the public about the devastating impacts of mosquito spraying this season, coordinating a joint presentation, appearing on a popular podcast, and devoting a magazine column to the subject:

• “Best Practices Around Mosquitoes, with Nancy Lawson,” Margaret Roach’s A Way to Garden Podcast
• “Mosquito Spraying Kills Pollinators: Habitat protection and other simple measures are far more effective,” American Gardener Magazine
• “Pesticide Reduction: Mosquito Spraying Kills Pollinators,” Howard County Bee City

The latter page was created in collaboration with my colleagues at Howard County Bee City, a coalition I co-chair to educate our Maryland community about native bees and other insects. In August I gave a presentation about mosquito spraying along with two other Bee City members, Maddie Potter of University of Maryland Extension and Danielle Tyeryar of the Columbia Association. We are planning to turn this into a local “roadshow” and would also like to create a Zoom presentation to reach a wider audience. Stay tuned for more information, and check my Events page.

A Plea to Stop Artificial Feeding: This goose can’t fly because humans fed her bread

Sitting on the balcony of our motel room during our mini-beach vacation in Delaware, I spotted a goose pacing the shoreline of Rehoboth Bay. Occasionally she tried to lift her wings to fly, to no avail. One of her wings was damaged, protruding outward at the last joint. This is a preventable condition called “angel wing,” but once a goose is fully grown the wing deformity is untreatable.

The goose was particularly interested in people, approaching within a few feet as soon as they came near the dock and sandbar. One little boy tried to help her by doing exactly what got her into this situation in the first place: giving her potato chips. Bread is thought to be the most common culprit, overwhelming young geese with proteins and carbohydrates at a time when their wings are still developing.

I let the boy know as gently as possible that human food is not good for geese. A man managing the kayak operation said the plight of the goose, whose flock had flown the month before, broke his heart. He stopped short of agreeing to let people know about the harms of feeding, saying it wasn’t his responsibility.

Fortunately, Tri-State Bird Rescue was already on the case, with a volunteer in the area monitoring the situation. The hotel manager was extremely kind and planned to post a sign about the negative impacts of feeding geese and other water birds. Ducks and swans can also suffer from this condition, as this Maine Audubon article explains. Please help spread the word, and remember that it’s best to let nature feed wild birds of all kinds.

Fall 2025 Events

“Nancy is a superlative public speaker, connecting with audiences in a way that goes beyond just imparting information. She dives deeply into inspiration and wonder, deftly weaving her message through beautiful prose and a magnetic, captivating speaking style. I have observed an audience entranced by her words, glued to her photos on the screen, and eager to share their excitement after the presentation with both Nancy and fellow attendees. It is a magical experience.” —Peter Couchman, executive director, Bowman’s Hill Wildflower Preserve

• September 27: DelaWild environmental fair, featured lecture, Winterthur, Delaware
• October 8, 15 & 22: Native Plant Society of New Jersey, 3-part course: Nurturing Sensory Wildscapes
• October 21: “Creating Habitat for Native Pollinators” Community Ecology Institute (private class), Columbia, Maryland
• October 28, 5:30 – Lauren’s Garden Service Eco-Book Club, Discussion of The Humane Gardener, Ellicott City, Maryland
• November 2: evening lecture, Oakland Mills Interfaith Center, Columbia, Maryland
• November 19, noon: Webinar with Joe Lamp’l of Joe Gardener: “You Can Have Your Deer (and Rabbits and Groundhogs) and Your Garden Too!”

Stay up to date at the Humane Gardener Events page.

It Smells Like Home: The Mysteries of White Flowers and Their Pollinators

Excerpted from my American Gardener column, Sept-Oct 2025 issue:

For years, I chased elusive garden rainbows, focusing on the most colorful native flowers without considering their chemistry. I was biased against white, conflating it with Victorian rose gardens peopled by wealthy robber barons cavorting in moonlit courtyards. In my mind, it represented a kind of cloistered neutrality.

But something happened on the way to nurturing my now abundant wildlife gardens: White flowers insinuated themselves in the form of volunteer bonesets and black locusts, drawing a spectacular array of six-legged visitors. White flowers came with the wild plums, chokeberries, chokecherries, viburnums, and elderberries I’d planted to provide fruit for birds—and soon beckoned tiny native bees. Solitary pollinating wasps descended on the white-flowered native clematis, black cohosh, and summersweet shrubs, and tumbling ragdoll beetles showed up for the creamy blooms of sweetbay magnolia. Skippers and swallowtails dined on buttonbushes, and yucca moths scrambled to mate and lay eggs in yucca flowers.

By the time white flowers had made their way into every patch and corner, their allure was inescapable to me, too; to my surprise, most smelled delicious.

Read more of my latest column, “The Scent of Home Sweet Home.”

Compassionate Conversations

After Andrea Weckerle attended my talk about insects in Takoma Park, Maryland, in May, she invited me to be on her Ready Living Podcast. The result was one of the best conversations I’ve ever had with an interviewer. Thanks to Andrea’s deep dive into the work of her subjects and her extremely thoughtful questions, we were able to cover so much (bee-filled, seed-sprouting) ground in such a short time. Listen in to hear us talk about all the things: “Create a Gorgeous Garden That’s Also Wildlife Friendly,” available on Apple, Spotify and YouTube.

Nature Reads: Check out my latest Bookshop.org picks

It would take infinite lifetimes to learn the languages and ways of our fellow earthlings, but books by human interpreters—scientists, poets, artists, writers and other thinkers—can help us better understand and appreciate the world around us. No matter how diverse the expertise and backgrounds of the authors I’m reading, I usually find common threads weaving through all their writings. My recent reads echoed one another with critiques of false Edens, inadequacy of Western language and frameworks, and the role of humans as part of nature and natural disturbance. Through quotes from some of my favorite excerpts, I’ll let the authors tell you in their own words a little bit about their books:

The Accidental Garden by Richard Mabey: “And we are hamstrung in modern usage by the very structure of our grammar, orientated as it is around subject-object relationships. A pertinent verb here is ‘to grow.’ Gardeners use it as a transitive verb: we cause growth. For plants it is intransitive, active: they simply grow. Between these two meanings, and the two seats of power they represent, we shuffle back and forth, trying to find our role in the world, and still regarding it as ridiculous to use the pronoun ‘we’ for anything beyond our own species.”

The Botany of Empire: Plant worlds and the scientific legacies of colonialism by Banu Subramaniam: “The breaktaking, heterogeneous, and multitudinous cosmologies of Indigenous people across the world were replaced by a universal science in a foreign tongue—a cosmological scheme forced not only on humans but on all planetary life. A plethora of languages, theories, terminologies, cosmologies, spiritualities, and sexualities were reduced to a theater of Victorian gentlemen and ladies. What a loss!”

Medicine Wheel for the Planet: A journey toward personal and ecological healing by Jennifer Grenz: “It is apparent now why we have strayed so far from truly being effective in healing the land—the more we have leaned on natural and applied sciences to substantiate ecology as a field of study, the further we are from the artful balance of an Indigenous ecology. The efforts of legitimizing an inherently relational practice using Western notions of science created terminology that fulfills its purpose in maintaining the facade of objectivity. We keep expecting a different result using the same language.”

Night Magic: Adventures among glowworms, moon gardens, and other marvels of the dark by Leigh Ann Henlon: “The language of land—like the language of darkness–makes us strive for places aloft and alight, disparaging those down and dark. But the truth is, the darker the soil, the more nutrients it generally holds, the more life it can support. Still … [w]e tend to value light over dark, high above low, the heavens as greater than the ground, perceived as entry to an underworld that many of my fundamentalist neighbors associate with hell.”

Living Night: On the secret wonders of wildlife after dark by Sophia Kimmig: “Acoustic communication is widespread throughout the animal kingdom, but not all animals communicate by sound, and there was a time when the animal world was silent. The roots of spoken words, hooted words, squeaked words, squawked words, and quacked words may be closely linked to darkness. After all, in a world where optical signals do not achieve much, sound opens up a whole new level of communication. … So, we may have the night to thank not just for restful sleep and a considerable number of creative thoughts, but for our very ability to speak.”

The Last Butterflies: A scientist’s quest to save a rare and vanishing creature by Nick Haddad: “By doing nothing, I was, in fact, killing the butterflies. If protected from disturbance but otherwise let be, their open habitats continued through a natural course of succession, giving way to shrubs and then trees. These woodlands excluded the St. Francis’ Satyr’s host plant, and thus the St. Francis’ Satyr. Trees then introduced environmental feedback, acting like straws that sucked water from the soil. In doing so, they caused wetlands to dry. This reduced the habitat’s potential for the St Francis’s Satyr even further. The irony was that by preventing fire or floods from killing the butterflies, we were killing them anyway.”

The Garden Against Time: In search of a common paradise by Olivia Laing: “So many of our most ecologically deleterious behaviors are to do with refusing impermanence and decay, insisting on summer all the time. … To accept the presence of death in the garden is not to accept the forced march of climate change. It is to refuse an illusion of perpetual productivity, without rest or repair: an illusion purchased at a heavy, soon unpayable cost, inaugurating a summer without end, the fields burning, the trees like stone.”

Leaves and Light: Sunprints of American Native Plants by Lindy Smith: “It has taken me a decade to learn to love this messy side of gardening with plants that have always belonged here,” writes Smith, “not unlike learning to love the unpredictability of making images of them under sunlight. It is seeing beauty in a different way and letting nature run the show.” Words are few in this photographer’s beautiful homage to often overlooked beings, but the plants speak for themselves, beseeching us to notice the twists, turns, twirls and swirls they take while reaching for the sky.

When you order a book through these links—or any others from my author page on Bookshop.org—a percentage of your purchase supports independent bookstores, and a small amount goes to me and helps fund my work. You can also order my books there too. Thank you for supporting writers and small businesses!

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