TOM EARNHARDT: Celebrating 'imperfections' in nature

EDITOR’S NOTE: Tom Earnhardt has been described as the “steward of North Carolina outdoors.” A lawyer, he pioneered environmental law in the state. He is an avid naturalist and was co-producer of more than 80 episodes of the natural science television series “Exploring North Carolina.” His observations and photos are a regular weekend feature for the coming weeks.

If you and I are anything alike, neither of us has “dressed up” since March. My few good suits, starched shirts and shiny dress shoes have stood at attention in my closet for the last nine months. Several decades of colorful neckties hang in the corner like battle ribbons in a museum. And it was not my plan to wash and rewash, the same jeans, khakis, old soft shirts and comfortable socks over and over again: It just happened.

Even as hand washing, food handling precautions and sanitation measures have increased, dress codes and meals have become more relaxed. On the occasions when my wife and I have socially distanced (wearing masks) with friends, we have usually worn the same comfortable old clothes and well-worn walking shoes.

When I have logged into Zoom meetings on my computer, I have invariably picked out the same clothes. Yard work, never a high stress undertaking for me, has become even more calming and follows the same relaxed dress code. Without much warning, as we traveled less and had fewer social interactions, our lives became more simple. Perfection in dress, meals and landscaping went out the window months ago.

In this most difficult of years when essential workers and healthcare systems have been pushed to their breaking points, when those among us with the least have suffered most and when our democracy has been strained by a fractious presidential election, I have still found much for which to be thankful.

During this dreadful pandemic, we have all seen empathy, compassion, courage and generosity appear in the most unlikely places.

Because the struggles of this year have taken a toll on everyone, even the strongest among us need a place of refuge to recharge. Refuge can take many forms but I am certain there is haven and solace in nature. In this year of face masks, casual clothes, sacrifice and national introspection, I have never been more hopeful that we can, and will, refocus on the benefits of the natural world in our lives.

To reap these advantages we don’t have to travel far, but we do need to re-define our relationship with nature. From my perspective no one has defined the relationship to which we should aspire more clearly than Aldo Leopold in Sand County Almanac (1949). After more than 70 years, Leopold’s words still ring true: “We abuse land because we regard it as a commodity belonging to us. When we see land as a community to which we belong, we may begin to use it with love and respect.”

Perhaps in this most difficult and most casual of years, it will be easier for us to reestablish a relationship of love and respect with the natural world around us. Part of the change can come from learning to accept perceived “imperfections” in the natural world rather than trying to reshape or refashion them to satisfy our whims.

Now that the leaves are gone, some of us see gaps in tree limbs or a fork in a tree trunk as a lack of symmetry. We see “holes” in trunks as signs of decay or weakness. In too many cases we have eliminated these imperfect trees and replanted “vase-shaped“ alien, designer trees—trees not found naturally in Tar Heel forests.

We have also been programmed to rake our “dead” leaves—that could become valuable mulch or soil—into the gutter so they can be vacuumed and trucked away by the city. And just when they are most useful to birds and small animals, we have often cut back native grasses and the seed pods of summer wildflowers in search of a more manicured look.

Finally, over the last few decades many of us have become conditioned to view walnuts, hickory nuts, large acorns, persimmons, sycamore balls, the spiked balls of sweet gum, mulberries, and the large cone-shaped fruits of magnolia (called follicles) as undesirable “debris” that we do not want in our yards. Some websites and articles go so far as to call these natural seeds and fruits “ugly” and “hazardous.” We have sought to justify their removal from urban landscapes, because their fruits are unsightly, slippery, can turn an ankle or dent a car.

Horse feathers! We have eliminated them because of the mild inconvenience they may cause, and because they do not fit into our perception of a perfect lawn.

We seem to have forgotten that these same trees and shrubs produce unique and valuable foods for wildlife and each fills a niche in a complex natural community. All are important host plants for moths and butterflies, and their seeds are valuable foods for countless birds and animals.

For example, the “dreaded spiked balls” of the sweet gum and sycamore trees hold tiny seeds that are important foods for gold finches, chickadees, and a variety of other birds and mammals.

Trees with holes and forked trunks provide homes for numerous birds and mammals. In our Raleigh backyard there is an old red maple that I have threatened to cut down for the last 30 years. It is filled with holes and cavities that have been the home to raccoons, possums, owls, and a scurry of squirrels.

We have several bluebird boxes in our yard, but a hole in that red maple is always their first choice. No tree in our yard is uglier, or more valuable and majestic!

Possibly the thing that alarms me the most is that by removing and replacing unique native plants — with their seed pods, berries, large nuts, and squishy fruits — we are eliminating remarkable teaching tools for our children and future generations. Without exposure to these wonderful natural fruits/seeds that excite a sense of wonder, our children are less connected to nature.

It is the “imperfections“ in the natural world that spark curiosity and excitement in young people. The search for truth in our lives, in science, and government starts with curiosity. Nature offers everyone the opportunity to make discoveries. When we fail to choose native vegetation for yards and parks, curiosity can become a casualty.

There is no downside to a yard and neighborhood populated with native plants and a few old trees with holes. Our homes and yards can still be just as beautiful, and formal if that is your preference, but plants native to your area will be more interesting. Show me a yard full of squishy persimmons, sweet gum balls, “dangerous” walnuts, gooey pawpaws, sycamore projectiles, and the cone-shaped seed pods of magnolia, and I’ll show you a yard filled with wildlife and curious people.

Beauty and value are in the eye of the beholder. That is why this year, in which “casual and simple” have returned to our lives, it should also be easier for us to accept more informality and greater natural diversity in our yards, parks, and along our highways.

In this difficult year I have been buoyed and sustained by wild, imperfect things. In them I find refuge and solace. When the pandemic is behind us in the coming months, I fully intend to support the natural world that has sustained me.

Aldo Leopold was spot on: “When we see land as a community to which we belong, we may begin to use it with love and respect.”

As this year draws to a close, let us all embrace the glorious imperfections of the natural world. Peace, joy, and good health to you and your family.

A couple of generations ago in rural North Carolina and in most towns, it was common to see a nut tree, a pecan or walnut (Photo 1), beside houses. Persimmon trees (Photo 2), a variety of oaks with large acorns (Photo 3), and sweet gum (Photo 4) were part of home landscapes across the Tar Heel State. Now, in a more urban world, many homeowners and developers avoid such trees because of the yard “debris”—fruits and nuts—they produce.

If you have a patch of wildflowers in your yard, such as these purple coneflowers, don’t cut them back after the flowers have bloomed. Weeks after coneflowers have passed their peak, expect to see goldfinches attracted to their seeds (Photo 5).

Misshapen, twisted trees and trunks with holes are often eliminated from yards because they are considered unsightly. Such trees can also be regarded as majestic and noble, like this old poplar on the UNC campus! (Photo 6) Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Trees with holes are invariably homes to myriad creatures from possums (Photo 7), to squirrels (Photo 8), and to a variety of birds, like this prothonotary warbler (Photo 9). Look on these imperfections as valuable wildlife habitat.

If you don’t have an old tree with holes, put up a bluebird box and you’ll attract bluebirds (Photo 10) and a variety of other cavity nesting birds.

With a mix of trees of various ages, look closely and you’ll see biodiversity not found in manicured yards or parks with little plant diversity. Over the years in our downtown yard a number of magical creatures have appeared – luna moths (Photo 11), click beetles (Photo 12) and praying mantis (Photo 13). These treasures should tweak the curiosity of children and adults.