I’m not much on joining clubs or group activities, perhaps
it’s because like most creative entrepreneurs I stay really busy just trying to
make do. However, when I read about the
National Wildlife Federation’s Wildlife Habitat program, I decided to join the
other 90,000 people who have already taken what can literally be considered a natural plunge.
Lately I've spent afternoons ripping out invasive plants, planting edibles where there once was grass, and mulching with leaves and the grass clippings from our ever-diminishing lawn. I mean, I’m already doing what they require, I’m actively
making changes they suggest, so why not?! Plus you get a pretty little certificate and the
option to buy a metal plague to put up in your yard. Which, I bought. I am part of a consumer culture, after all. Anything in the name of self-validation, right?
The best part is, now I can passive-aggressively point to the
sign and shrug, which will be hung in a very conspicuous spot, if neighbors
complain about my yard. (Have I mentioned my Mr. has kindly dubbed my style “Trash
Americana”?) I tend to think lawns are a great yawn, but living in the middle of Suburban America, I'm a minority in terms of taste. Regardless of stylistic
differences, adopting the natural path has certain advantages.

{food} We’ve
added feeders for the birds which have resulted in a need to fill the feeders
daily now. . . Who came up with the term “Eats like a bird”? They’re highly misguided. We’ve also got a Red Shouldered Hawk hanging
around, blue birds, towhees and other interesting feathered creatures to watch
with great amusement. The bees seem to
be hanging around, with no interest of relocating, in a time of great worry
about those positive little pollinators.
{water} I’m now more apt to check on the watering holes (an old thrifted bowl and a big plastic
planter saucer) to make sure everyone has something to drink, another important way
to alleviate the effects of the drought we’re still in here in the Southeastern U.S. It’s taught me to hold water
in greater regard, conserving use inside and capturing the rain outside (a la rain
barrels) for the garden. I’m seriously
considering adding a bog to the yard, but one project at a time.
{shelter} The natural areas have become windows of curiosity, allowing me to peek in on nests, notice strange little insects, and understand that “natural
areas” are not eyesores in a well groomed lawn (which mine is not) but are essential
homes in the greater local community, the one that reminds me that animals are important
contributors to the human process of survival.
{garden sustainably}
But what it all boils down to is a gentle step back into the symbiotic process. I feel like a part of the cycle when the dirt
under my nails attracts a new animal friend to the yard. Perhaps it was reading Ranger Rick growing up
that attracted me to the National Wildlife Federation’s site, or perhaps it was
a simple desire to contribute to my own little one acre world. Either way, I have a plaque in my yard to remind me to keep on participating in life.

Renee Garner has a passion to make things grow, although her brownish
thumb wants her to believe otherwise. When mud pies aren't on the
menu, you can find her doodling the days away at Wolfie and the Sneak.