A New Silent Spring
By Julie Dennewitz, CGC Horticulturist
When environmentalist Rachel Carson published Silent Spring in 1962, the book sent shockwaves through American society. The country was in an environmental crisis caused by reckless industrial pollution and the indiscriminate use of the pesticide DDT. DDT had contaminated the entire food chain and threatened the survival of thousands of species. A desolate future lay ahead of us, but Carson’s book soon sparked a wave of investigation and environmental activism. The EPA was created in 1970 and DDT banned soon after. And slowly but steadily, populations on the brink of extinction began to reappear across the country. America had avoided disaster just in time. Yet we are faced now with a new environmental crisis and a new Silent Spring could be our future, this time caused by the aggressive spread of invasive plant species.
When I walk through an unmanaged patch of forest here in Cincinnati, I am struck by the stillness of it. It’s not a peaceful stillness, it is more like the stillness of the dead. Above me a few native trees have pushed through, all around 30 to 50 years old. Regrowth from whenever this area was last clear-cut. Below me are none of the native ground covers I would expect to find growing here. Only a layer of fallen leaves, punctuated by an evergreen vine of exotic English Ivy or Wintercreeper, and the occasional twinkling of plastic litter. And all around me, in a tangle of brittle branches just above my head, is a thicket of invasive Amur Honeysuckle.
There are no insects in this forest. There is nothing to pollinate. Except for a brief window in June when the honeysuckle explodes into fragrant white and yellow flowers, nothing blooms here. There is nowhere to lay eggs, nothing to feed caterpillars with, no stems or logs to cozy up inside over winter. Only a dense colony of foreign plants.
There are few birds here. Again, there is nothing of value to eat. Every winter the honeysuckle is loaded with tantalizing red berries, but they are as nourishing to the birds as a Lay’s potato chip is to us. The berries offer none of the healthy fats and nutrients our songbirds require to complete their migrations or survive the winter. Many of those who feed in this forest will be dead before spring.
Our city’s woodlands have become grim places. No understory of beneficial shrubs, no carpet of wild spring ephemerals, no young trees to replace the previous generation. Honeysuckle quickly colonizes any patch of sunlight and releases allelopathic chemicals into the soil to kill all competition. Wherever it’s cut down, a mess of spindly shoots regrow from the stump. It spreads endlessly through these fast-growing suckers. It has no predators and no rivals. Ohio is home to over two thousand plant species. Here, there is one.
The invasive plant situation is serious, but it is far from hopeless. This damage can be undone, and our urban forests can be restored. Through the hard work of conservationists and community members, we can rewrite the story of Cincinnati’s wild spaces. Progress has already been made in this fight, in places like Walnut Woods of Evanston.
But there is so much more we must do to avoid a new Silent Spring. We must target each species in the most effective way. Along with volunteer power, the most effective weapon we have against Amur Honeysuckle, for instance, is herbicide. It is a tool that must be used deliberately, typically by cutting down the shrub then painting the stump to prevent that suckering regrowth and kill the root system.
With this strategy, and with rigorous persistence, we will bring life back into our urban ecosystems. Our native plants will return to their homes and biodiversity will flourish once more.
As Rachel Carson taught us over 60 years ago, it is never too late to make a difference.