Native Plants Don’t Save Water, People Do

Even though we consider ourselves as low-impact landscapers, it’s a struggle for me to be excited about landscaping in this horrific drought.  I might as well be bulldozing garbage into the Guadalupe River.

We use alternative fuels in our equipment, but propane and waste veggie oil and biodiesel in combustion engines are still air-choking pollutants.  What if we figured out ways to avoid using those engines altogether?

Avoiding chemicals doesn’t make us greener, it just makes us work harder and with less efficiency.  What if we could change clients’ perspectives, and show them the value of plants that most people consider to be weeds?

Replacing lawns with native beds doesn’t necessarily reduce water use, it just makes us look like we’re trying.   What if sometimes, the best way to conserve resources is by working with what we have, and by waiting for better conditions before attempting improvements?

Sometimes, doing nothing in the landscape is the best solution.

In severe drought, all newly installed plants need regular water.  We actually killed Agaves and Texas Sotols when we planted them in May and failed to add a drop of water this summer.   The weeds that were replaced by these now dead plants would have done better.  The reality is that those weeds were probably the most sustainable option at the time.

If we actually had a little rain this summer, it’s a different story.  A little supplemental water to get properly selected drought-tolerant plants established during normal planting seasons is not a big stress on regional water resources.  Once these plants have a solid root system, they can survive future summers of two-thousand e-hell-ven without any help, AND can improve a site by providing more cover and food for wildlife, shading soil microbes and your house, preventing soil erosion, and maybe even providing a bloom or two for the ladies.

Sometimes, using resources in the short-term actually saves resources in the long-term.   Now is a really bad time to use those resources.

We really shouldn’t be planting anything in landscapes this fall, even if the weather does cool a little.  I’m just too chickenshit to stand by that, so we’re planting anyway, because anything can be justified.  But if I had a spine, I suppose I would try this out:

Un-irrigated Landscapes – Keep them un-irrigated.  To save soil resources, only focus on areas that are now bare soil thanks to drought.  Delineate these areas into natural shapes, leaving the majority of any vegetation that is still alive untouched.   Add an inch or two of compost, cover with four inches of mulch, hand-water it long and deep one time.

If and only if it ever rains again, and if an only if it happens to be during a cool season, plant however many 10-gallon trees will fit into the mulched space, matching plant material with soil type found on the site and that will survive prolonged drought once they’re established.  Good luck figuring out exactly which trees those are, and be prepared to show your neighbor a finger when he asks why you are planting giant weeds.  Wait a year or two, then repeat with shrubs and perennials only if needed to keep up with Jones’.

Irrigated Landscapes – Shut off your irrigation system, sell your house as quickly as possible while everything is still sort of alive, and move to Oregon.

Water Restrictions

Austin is officially in Stage 2 watering restrictions.  So we can only use sprinklers once a week.  Let me know if you need help resetting your timers.

Vegetables

I’m a lost soul on the topic of veggie gardens.  The edibility of certain plants can justify their needy existence, but even in droughts like this?  Our garden at the house is dormant, save for a single basil plant that came out of nowhere.  This year’s excuse was lack of rain.  So I’m copying a yard sign I saw in San Antonio that insecurely excused the state of a parched landscape by claiming that the owner is “Sharing Our Water with Local Farmers.”  Ya, let them use our water to grow our veggies, hell, I’ll take food over a shower any day.

But I did learn something this summer, and it gave me hope that a symbiosis can exist between veggies and responsible water use in tough times like these.  Sun Gold tomatoes love drought.  We planted 40 of these plants at Fonda in April, turned off the water in July, and as of today, they’re all still loaded with sweet, juicy, beautiful cherry tomatoes.  Not a drop of water in 6+ weeks of the hottest part of the hottest summer on record, and we’ve got golden balls of manna stacked seven feet high.  Throw in some edible weeds that don’t care what the weather is doing, and we’ve got an indestructible and bountiful garden.

Sometimes, You Gotta Get Up to Get Down

Or vicey versey.  We have been turning down new clients all summer, and will continue this trend through the fall for two reasons.  1) The guys have been working overtime all summer to keep up with obligations to exiting clients and those obligations are increasing as we approach the alleged planting season;  and 2) my failure to deal psychologically with this drought have kept my ambitions at a healthy zero.

Droughts are part of a natural cycle of life in this part of the country.  95 had never felt so good as it did last week, I’m guessing the first thunderstorm will be 100 times better than that.  The drought brought tragedy to thousands of families around us, but as thousands more rush to help their neighbors, it has also strengthened communities and created new ones that will stand together during the next tragedy.  That’s pretty inspiring.  It’s the lows of life cycles that makes the highs so magical.

Anyway, we’re still here living and learning, thanks for being part of that process.  Let it rain.

jeremy

Be Sociable, Share!