ECWA Began as a Wetland Garden in Indian Trail Park

There are many origins for a creek and for a watershed association. To a considerable extent, the Ellerbe Creek Watershed Association began as a garden planted in the floodplain of a city park that straddles the creek. In 1996, when our daughter Sofia was still in her first year, we bought a house near Indian Trail Park, and I would often take her there to play. Being a botanist and a gardener, I was struck by how few native plants were growing in the park. While nonnatives like english ivy and multiflora rose were thriving, it seemed like a majority of native plants had for the most part been relegated to places one had to drive to, either in the Blomquist section of Duke Gardens, or at nature preserves outside of town. I wanted them to grow where people could see them every day, so I got permission from the city, went to plant sales and began planting native shrubs and wildflowers at Indian Trail Park.

Of course, what followed was a very long drought, during which I became a one-man bucket brigade, as the new plants wilted in the heat. Those that survived, I observed, were the ones planted in wet, sunny places, away from greedy tree roots and where the soil collected a reservoir of moisture that plants could draw from during droughts.

Some areas of lawn in this floodplain park were wet for such long periods that they were of little use for recreation. The mowing crews struggled through the mud, and in fact some native wetland plants like sedges and soft rush were already growing there, needing only to be left unmowed to achieve their attractive mature forms.

These were the spots I arranged with the city to stop mowing, while I replaced the monotonous turfgrass with native sedges and the sorts of floodplain wildflowers that don't mind periodic inundation.

I happen to be hardwired to care for a garden the way a parent cares for a child. That steady application of attention, along with an increasing awareness of all the beautiful native plants I saw growing in the wild and at the NC Botanical Garden and Blomquist Gardens, led to some very attractive and diverse wetland gardens at Indian Trail Park.

It mattered little how rich the soil was. The plants largely built themselves out of air, sun, and water. In fact, poor clay soil was ideal, causing the water to linger and discouraging most weeds. By the time the next drought came, the plants had rooted themselves deeply and could tap into the underground reservoir of moisture accumulated from previous rains.

The first wetland garden was planted next to the park's playground, where I could tend to it while keeping an eye on Sofie. Joe-Pye-Weed, lizard's tail, jewelweed, groundnut--these were informal gardens but could be kept attractive if well weeded and given a clean boundary.

Other parents in the park took an interest, and the "I" shifted more towards "we", as others helped tend to the gardens on periodic workdays.

They say that wetlands were common in pre-colonial America, so it makes sense that there are so many native wildflowers adapted to grow in wet habitats. Many of them are tall: Joe-Pye, wild senna, ironweed, Hibiscus,

and boneset,

After a couple years we hatched the idea to add bluebird houses, which were quickly utilized by purple finches and chickadees. In the spring, I'd walk by a birdhouse to pull a weed and hear the commotion of expectant hatchlings thinking a meal was coming.

Though lawns are an important part of parks, the wetland gardens hosted all sorts of life not found in a lawn. One day I encountered the beautiful web of an Argiope spider, with a design woven in that was almost word-like, and it occurred to me that E.B. White might have gotten his idea for Charlotte from such a spider.

Another discovery was how attractive a sedge could be. For those who don't know what a sedge is, it is a grasslike plant with triangular stems. "Sedges have edges" is the memorable way to describe the way a sedge feels when you twirl its stem between your fingers. They typically grow wild and unnoticed in ditches or next to streams. Though they generate no color other than green, their seedheads have different shapes, and in the spring they form attractive vaselike shapes that provide a rich texture for the surrounding wildflowers. This particular one is called fox sedge, and behind it is a nodding white flower called lizards tail.

All of this was going very well. I had gotten the gardens to thrive, and once they were thick with natives there was much less weeding to be done. People would tell me how much they liked seeing the gardens growing and changing, one day to the next.

And then one spring day, when the sedges had achieved their lush forms and the gardens were rich with the promise of another summer of blooms, I arrived in the park to find one of the gardens mowed down. It was like a punch to the gut. Undoubtedly, someone new on the mowing crew had mistaken the garden for a weed patch. It was a shocking reminder that I was growing a garden on land that was not mine, and that those charged with maintaining parks tend to see their world as consisting of trees and turf, with little inbetween.

I learned a lesson. Visual cues needed to be more clear. As we expanded the gardens, I put in stakes to signal that the sometimes subtle plantings were intentional and to be left unmowed.

Fortunately, the plants grew back after that first traumatic mowing. Accidental mowing is a temporary setback. Over the years, other public or private raingardens I've planted have been traumatized one way or another, and though such traumas still impact me viscerally, none has equaled that first punch to the gut. I have become toughened, my emotional connection protected by a thicker skin.

The same thinking that went into creating and tending to these wetland gardens at Indian Trail Park was ultimately extended to the whole Ellerbe Creek watershed. Find special places, protect and tend them for their distinctive native habitats, and build trails the public can enjoy. Integrate aesthetics and utility. Over time, through a lot of work and a lot of support by a lot of people, a "string of pearls" has evolved, as urban preserves have proliferated along the length of the creek. Wetland gardens were succeeded by stormwater wetlands and large-scale stream restorations, and now a big wetland planned for the site of the former Duke Diet and Fitness Center.

Other important goals, like improving the quality of the creek's water, have gained more attention along the way, but even these remain deeply connected to the plant world that holds the soil and captures the rain.