“The Theodore Payne Foundation for Wild Flowers and Native Plants” sounds like a Wes Anderson movie. It conjures a khaki-clad scout in a meadow, bandana at the neck, earnestly writing observations about flowers in a little notebook. Don’t get me wrong, working here is just as delightful as it sounds, but it belies the seriousness of a mission that goes far beyond its aesthetic appeal.
Before I took this job, I wasn’t sleeping particularly well. I couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that something essential was being lost, and the knowledge that I wasn’t doing much about it made me feel a bit ill. Maybe you relate?
Over the last few decades, we’ve progressively lost more and more natural habitat in Southern California. We lost it, and then we got used to it. And then we lost some more, and we got used to that. My worry is that too soon we’ll only be left with vast areas of heat-radiating concrete, swathes of highly flammable invasive weeds, and manicured Edens of high-maintenance, exotic greenery that don’t support our local food web. And at that point, no matter how normal it may all seem, we’ll be in real danger. At that point, ecological collapse will be a “when”, not an “if”. To me, the Theodore Payne Foundation is focused on addressing an existential threat, not just promoting an aesthetic or nostalgic ideal.
I’ll be honest, I don’t personally love attention. Even so, I took this job knowing a huge part of it is to ask for attention (and money and time), because I believe the mission is that important. I want all Angelenos to understand that each native plant that takes root adds to our community’s safety and our longevity. Each square foot of vibrant, native habitat that (re)emerges is a physical and psychological buffer against a looming, existential, but totally avoidable, threat.
My vision is simple and hopeful: I want us all to put more native plants into the ground so we can heal the ecology of LA. The first step is to learn to recognize native plants, because if you can’t identify them, you don’t know they’re missing. The second step is to put some native plants in your garden, yard, or neighborhood. They require little water, yet they stabilize ecosystems, support our local pollinators, cool our neighborhoods, and, crucially, can help protect us from wildfire.
Oh, also… they’re really charming.
BEHIND YOUR VISION !!!!
Your vision s a good start. I think the whole state of California should be on that path (and I live in the northernmost and presumably most pristine part of the state). Let’s learn who the plants native to our nighborhood area are and at least in our own yards propagate and support them as well as walking among them in the wild and learning their habitat preferences and who they support (pollinators and other mutualists).
We recently lost our home in the Eaton Canyon wildfire. Many of our native plants were damaged, some are goners, but many are already fighting back. We have amazing pictures of burned Manzanita producing green leaves, Mugwort growing even through the heat (the plastic temp container it was in partially melted – but it survived and is with us in our new temp home). There is also an Island Bush Poppy sending new growth up all over the branches and a young Engelmann Oak sending up vigorous growth from its base. Our yard is unique in our neighborhood, and our California natives are showing us and our neighbors that they know what to do and will return. What a joy to watch this amidst such devastation. We will try to share the pics on the Southern California Native Plant Gardeners FB page.
I sure hope your neighbors see in your example that for the future, natives are the best answer.
Totally agree. Plus it is all sorts of fun discovering the native plants that do well in your particular garden. My latest good luck find was ‘copper leaf’. It does amazing things.
Small gardens, large gardens of native plants help maintain a home, nee habitat, for wildlife. My Nevins, which i first saw in all its magnificence at the entrance to TP have withstood the effects of the Palisades fire. They are full of blooms. Brown leaves on oaks have become the full flush of spring covered with green leaves. Ceanothus bloomed. A swath of purple sage and buckwheat survived. The Mexican elderberry is covered with leaves. Bunches of purple 3 awn, trimmed, burst from the scorched earth. Sequoias stand. My hardened house stands. Native plants are resilient. They are life.
Thank you. Beautifully written. A salve for an aching soul. Sincere alarm matched with hope. Exactly what we need more of.
Thank you Amy. Well said. I also loved Susan’s description of wildlife returning to Eaton Canyon where I spent my youth hiking around, and because of it joined the Forest Service!
I would like to let anyone know: I created a petition at Change.org “Restore LA Wildlands Now.”
You can see it here: https://chng.it/kZrNndyZGN.
Thanks to The Theodore Payne Foundation for keeping the idea of Restoration alive.