This long article makes a distinction between services provided by natural and semi-natural areas in cities, and a concept of a city as a whole as an ecosystem that provides services. What it reminded me of, though, is the distinction between the UN’s definition of “regulating” ecosystem services and “supporting” ecosystem services.
• Regulating ecosystem services, such as control of stormwater discharge, mitigation of heat in urban areas, mitigation of noise, etc.
• Supporting ecosystem services, such as provision of habitats for urban biodiversity, provision of pollinators for urban farms, etc.
In the engineering world I inhabit, we have the regulating services reasonably well figured out. We don’t always do a great job of implementing and enforcing, and we exempt too many projects, but basically we have cost-effective standards and best practices for things like flood management and water pollution reduction.
The supporting ecosystem services are mostly not even on our radar. And that means that when we are designing for flood or water quality objectives, our designs are not as green as they might be if we took biodiversity and habitat into account. It might not even cost more to do that, but it would require a more expansive way of thinking. To do that, we would need to communicate effectively to the decision makers and then the rank and file just why they should care.
The latest charismatic species to be at risk of disappearing – bumblebees, according to Science. It’s a simple story – they just can’t handle the heat.
Climate change could increase species’ extinction risk as temperatures and precipitation begin to exceed species’ historically observed tolerances. Using long-term data for 66 bumble bee species across North America and Europe, we tested whether this mechanism altered likelihoods of bumble bee species’ extinction or colonization. Increasing frequency of hotter temperatures predicts species’ local extinction risk, chances of colonizing a new area, and changing species richness. Effects are independent of changing land uses. The method developed in this study permits spatially explicit predictions of climate change–related population extinction-colonization dynamics within species that explains observed patterns of geographical range loss and expansion across continents. Increasing frequencies of temperatures that exceed historically observed tolerances help explain widespread bumble bee species decline. This mechanism may also contribute to biodiversity loss more generally.
Deep inside me is a little boy who still likes bugs, and I spotted some cool bugs in my 2019 garden, including endangered Monarch butterflies. So at least I made that small difference for biodiversity in a small urban garden, and others can do the same.
Most interesting story, that was not particularly frightening or hopeful, or perhaps was a mixture of both:
Estonia is supposedly the most digitally advanced country in the world. Finland has posted a free AI literacy course.
A retrospective on my 2019 garden may not be of great interest to anyone but me, but here it is for my future reference.
My gardening philosophy is basically to try to design a diverse ecosystem that can take care of itself with just a little nudging from me. Every plant should be useful to me in some way, useful to wildlife in some way (which generally means natives), or preferably both. Aesthetics come last, but I find that a diverse array of useful plants arranged in a gently guided ecosystem tends to be interesting at a minimum, and beautiful at best. Sterile, ornamental plants are pretty boring to me. I’ve been influenced by the permaculture and native plant movements, among other things. Anyway, here we go…
what did well this year:
My 4-year-old Asian pear tree grew a pretty impressive crop of fruit. The final score? Squirrels – 20 or so, humans – 0. But nonetheless, the tree seems to be doing well. My 3-year-old Asian persimmon tree grew its first persimmon. The final score? Squirrels – 1, humans 0.
Spring color – violets, dandelions, chives. These are all common plants that a lot of my neighbors probably consider weeds. But they add up to some nice color right when you need it in the spring. I also have a nice carpet of green and gold, a nursery-grown cultivar of a native species listed as threatened in Pennsylvania. All but the green and gold are edible if I am so inclined, and all are tough competitors that can hold their own against the urban weeds.
Milkweeds are everywhere. Particularly butterfly milkweed, which has some really cool orange flowers. But also common milkweed, which I don’t plant on purpose but leave alone whenever and wherever it decides to crop up. And the monarchs did indeed make an appearance.
Anise hyssop, beebalm, and mountain mint all are doing well without getting completely out of control. These are attracting a ton of pollinators, particularly bumblebees.
monarch butterfly, Black-eyed Susan and butterfly milkweed
too much of a good thing?
fennel – When I planted a few fennel plants from the farmer’s market a few years ago, I didn’t really understand that it was a different thing than dill, specifically a perennial that comes back year after year from the root, spreads aggressively by seed, and is hard to dig up. Don’t get me wrong – it’s an attractive plant, looks and smells nice for most of the year, attracts a ton of pollinators and caterpillars, and is edible from root to stem to leaf although I haven’t availed myself of it much. It’s just becoming a thicket that I will need to start limiting next year.
lemon balm – This is attractive, out-competes weeds and is nice in tea. It’s tough enough that it is starting to invade a lot of my ground covers and out-compete other desirable plants, however. I may have to start limiting it.
Black-eyed Susans – These are in two big clumps and looked absolutely fantastic in mid- to late-summer. They are expanding and aggressively out-competing other plants so I may need to limit them if I don’t want a garden of nothing but Black-eyed Susans. Pollinators love them, but so, surprisingly, do mice. After gorging themselves on Black-eyed Susan seeds, sure enough the mice came in at the first sign of frost to hang out in my nice warm kitchen.
garlic (Chinese) chives – These are nice-looking, grassy, edible, beloved of pollinators and also spiders and predatory insects that like to eat pollinators. They are aggressive enough that they are spreading into groundcovers in the front of the garden, and I kind of wish I had planted them in the back.
Sunchokes – planted four little raisin-sized tubers in a desperate bid to block a neighbor’s plants from invading. They took a long time to sprout, but just when I had written them off as either DOA or eaten by the squirrels – boom! in the space of a week or two my living fence popped up. They did exactly what they were supposed to do, creating a biological moat that nothing could cross, and attracting lots of bees and butterflies. I didn’t try digging up and eating any but I know that is a possibility. I have seen them get aggressive elsewhere so I will have to keep an eye on them.
caterpillars munching on the fennel thicket – probably black swallowtails although I’m not sure why these two look differentblack swallowtail hanging out on the neighbor’s ornamental grass, persimmon leaves in the foreground
desirable species still there but not competing well
white clover – Surprisingly, it is there but unobtrusive. This is okay with me, and I don’t plan to add or subtract any, just let it do what it is going to do.
chicory – I think it is there, but it wasn’t distinguishable from the dandelions this year and didn’t put up any flower stalks. Perhaps it has a biennial habit and will be back next year. Most people consider this a weed but I think it is cool, and another plant that I don’t get around to eating but take some pleasure in knowing I could.
miner’s lettuce – I left this for dead seasons ago but one sad little plant did pop up. It disappeared again shortly due to whatever animal it is that likes to dig at night in that particular part of the garden.
wild strawberries and garden strawberries – The problem here is not animals, but friendly, well-intentioned human neighbors who keep pulling what they are certain are “weeds”. Well, they never get all the roots and the strawberries will be back. They are in a losing battle with the Black-eyed Susans however and may need some help even if I can get the neighbors to leave them alone.
what didn’t make it
French sorrel – I had a healthy clump of this for several years and it was just nowhere to be found this year. I’m not sure I will miss it.
prairie smoke – This was something I was enticed to plant by a nursery catalog. It didn’t survive the digging animals.
cucumbers – They are supposed to be easy, but I planted some and they either didn’t sprout or withered and died before I could even be sure they were there. They were hard to distinguish from the pumpkins.
problem species
ornamental ground covers and grasses. The neighbors tend to like these, or in some cases neighbors from years or decades gone by liked them. It’s a forever war.
general urban weeds – the trick is keeping them under control March-June. If you do this, your desired plants can take over and out-compete them by mid-summer on.
mosquitoes – I use bacillus thuringiensis and try to avoid all standing water. It doesn’t matter. By June on they are out there and just vicious. I don’t want to use harsher chemicals so we rely on insect repellant.
notable sitings
monarchs, as I mentioned earlier. Other butterflies too, particularly black swallowtails which love the fennel, parsely and celery, and yellow swallowtails which like some of the neighbors bushes. These last two aren’t rare but give no end of pleasure to kids and the young-at-heart.
praying mantises, both the native Carolina mantis and the introduced (but still cool) Chinese mantis. The native mantis liked to hang out on my introduced Chinese chives, so go figure. But when the Chinese chives flowered, they attracted a ton of little flies and wasps which were probably easy pickings. The Chinese mantis liked to climb my house. I can’t explain that one, unless it was for the warmth of the bricks.
Carolina mantis hanging out upside down on garlic chivesChinese mantis climbing my house
the pots
Asian yard-long beans – these are prolific, interesting, and delicious.
Thai sweet basil and holy basil – these are beautiful, delicious and tough. We cook with them all summer. Leave italian basil alone in the sun for one mid-summer weekend and it is done, but the Thai version can handle the heat no problem and bounce back from a dry spell within reason.
interesting volunteers and self-seeders
Virginia creeper – it’s native so I let it go
Thai chillis – didn’t plant them but got lots of them, probably from the compost. They are so spicy they grew more than we could ever practically eat.
sweet peppers – didn’t plant these but got some, most likely just from last year’s kitchen scraps thrown in the compost. They were good, and there was no sign of cross pollination with the hot peppers.
pumpkins – probably because I tossed the previous year’s Halloween pumpkin in the compost. I thinned to just one per half barrel out front, but still they got massive. They flowered but didn’t set any fruit.
celery – planted last year because I mistook them for flat-leafed parsley. Self-seeded. The black swallowtails like them.
parsley – the curly-leaf kind. Survives the winter and self-seeds. A surprisingly tough competitor in the urban garden.
So that is the gardening year that was. Kind of sad when everything is so brown and lifeless now. But that is how the seasons, and eventually years and decades, go by. I mulched the trees with a summer’s worth of coffee grounds, kitchen scraps and garden trimmings today, and the kids helped me sweep up the leaves and put them in the compost for next year’s garden.
I’ll give some thought to new things I want to try in the 2020 garden sometime soon.
House cats have hired a major lobbying firm to promote their interests, as the song bird special interest attacks continue to escalate.
Okay, that’s my onion-like joke headline. But apparently, there is a vicious academic debate about just how much of a risk domestic cats pose to biodiversity when they are allowed to range outdoors. There is also a values conflict between people who feel very strongly about the welfare of individual animals, both wild and domestic, and people who feel very strongly about ecosystem functions and services. And obviously, there are lots of people who have strong feelings about all these things, and may have some internal conflicts to resolve.
There was one turn of phrase in this article I particularly liked: describing cats as “sentient, sapient, and social individuals”. I looked up sapient in the Websters 1913 dictionary:
Sapient Sa”pi*ent (?), a. [L. sapiens, -entis, p. pr. of sapere to taste, to have sense, to know. See Sage , a. ] Wise; sage; discerning; — often in irony or contempt.
Where the sapient king Held dalliance with his fair Egyptian spouse. Milton. Syn. — Sage; sagacious; knowing; wise; discerning.
Here’s a new paper on relationships between biodiversity and ecosystem fragmentation/connectivity. If I could go back to school and just study whatever I wanted for fun and without economic constraints, maybe this would be it. My basic question would be how much you can really expect to optimize patches and corridors within urban and suburban areas, agricultural areas, and protected natural lands to preserve as much ecosystem function as possible while still supporting a human population.
Over the past decades, numerous studies have provided new insights into the importance of spatial network structure for metapopulation persistence. However, systematic work on how variation in patch degree (i.e., the number of neighbors of a patch) in spatial networks modifies metapopulation dynamics is still lacking. Using both pair approximation (PA) and cellular automaton (CA) models, we investigate how different patch network structures affect species persistence while considering both local and global dispersal. Generally, the PA model displays similar metapopulation patterns compared to the CA simulations. Using both models, we find that an increase of relative extinction rate decreases global patch occupancy (GPO) and thereby increases the extinction risk for local dispersers, while increasing patch degree promotes species persistence through increasing dispersal pathways. Interestingly, patch degree does not affect local species clumping in spatially regular patch networks. Relative to local dispersers, species with global dispersal can maintain the highest GPO, and their metapopulation dynamics are not influenced by spatial network structure, as they can establish in any patch randomly without dispersal limitation. Concerning species conservation, we theoretically demonstrate that increasing patch connectivity (e.g., constructing ecological corridors) in spatial patch networks would be an effective strategy for the survival of species with distance-limited dispersal.
I’m reading Bringing Nature Home: How You Can Sustain Wildlife with Native Plants by Douglas Tallamy. It’s a pretty interesting book because he is an entomologist and writes from that perspective. His message is pretty straightforward: most plants have compounds that help them defend against insects, and native plants have evolved for millions of years with insects that specialize in eating them. These insects are overwhelmingly the base of the food chain that supports everything else up to birds and larger animals. Replace the natives with ornamentals from elsewhere, often specifically bred to be unattractive to insects, and there are a lot fewer insects. The ecosystem doesn’t function any more, even if the plants kind of look similar to the way the functioning ecosystem used to look. Add to this the long list of devastating pests and diseases that have been imported along with alien ornamental plants, and ornamental plants that have escaped into the wild to further devastate ecosystem function, and the case is pretty strong.
Monarch butterflies are not doing well, according to USA Today.
The number of monarch butterflies turning up at California’s overwintering sites has dropped by about 86 percent compared with only a year ago, according to the Xerces Society, which organizes a yearly count of the iconic creatures.
That’s bad news for a species whose numbers have already declined an estimated 97 percent since the 1980s.
So plant some milkweed. I started and planted a few seeds of butterfly milkweed in my small urban garden about 3 growing seasons ago, and they are just now starting to get a bit aggressive. I’m not sure how the neighbors feel, but it’s fine with me. I have in fact seen a few monarchs out there.
This article on Philadelphia’s new rail park sounds kind of cool. Sure, we are copying an idea from New York with the typical one-decade lag, but it sounds like the designers have given some thought to ecology.
The Rail Park’s horticultural design is a “simple palette” with three main layers, he explained.
Hardy London plane trees — “the classic park tree” found along the outer lanes of the Ben Franklin Parkway and throughout the city — will dominate the upper layer. Multi-stem oaks and Kentucky coffee trees will fill in the medium layer, along with shorter redbuds and other flowering trees, American holly and Eastern red cedars. A birch grove will “play off the window boxes” that adorn a neighboring apartment building, like “a domestic landscape writ large,” Hanes said.
The lower level of plants will be more diverse, with arrangements of shrubs and perennials that include:
Bottlebrush buckeye
Oak leaf hydrangea and viburnums
Sedges, tall grasses and ground covers
Several varieties of fern
Sumac
Asters
Sage
Goldenrod
Milkweed
Alum root
Wild petunias
Wild indigo
I can vouch for this part of town being sorely in need of some wildness.
