As a kid spending summer weeks at our family’s cabin, I was one of the few brave souls that sat on the dock at dusk waiting for the bats to skim the calm waters of Oneida Lake. As the moon rose, the bats emerged, taking insects on the wing; their expert dips and dives never ceasing to amaze me.
Nope. I wasn’t one of those girls afraid of the critters that came out at night…or during the day for that matter. I spent my childhood turning over rocks to watch the insects that lurked beneath, rescued baby birds that had fallen from the nest and kept caterpillars and water bugs as treasured pets. I felt more comfortable wading through a wetland in search of marsh marigolds than surfing channels from the couch.
My love for all things critter evolved into a career; my life’s mission creating places for them to live.
Deeply discouraged by the traditional landscaping world of sterile lawns and ball shrubs spaced ever so equidistant from each other along the foundations of endless homes within endless developments, I became a rogue landscaper, with a fire brewing in my gut. I was determined to change the world by converting one lawn square or old cornfield at a time into native communities. Or die trying.
I become a native landscaper, ripping out lawns and planting wildflowers and grasses that evolved within prairie, wetland and woodland ecosystems; many of which are becoming some of the rarest communities on the planet. I connected with clients that shared my passion for pollinators and woodpeckers and assassin bugs. I was creating habitat in hopes that other kids would find connection to wild places like I did. Sparrow Landscaping was born.
My foray into bat gardening specifically surfaced after hearing Rob Mies, the Executive Director of the Organization of Bat Conservation, preach bats to a standing room only audience at the Lake Home and Cabin Shows; his passion for bats contagious. I laughed (let me qualify…sad, concerned laugh) along with the crowd when he said that without bats there would be no tequila, given their role as pollinators. It’s not all up to the bees you know. I felt a synergistic sadness when he educated us about the devastating effects of White-nose Syndrome on the bat population as the beautiful fruit bat, Kamilah, clung to his arm.
It was similar to my “no milkweed-no monarch” message that I preached to audiences hoping to learn more about the role that native plants play for the species dependent on them. Although it’s hard for me to imagine not caring about the protection of one of many links of the diversity chain that holds this planet together, providing a reason that resonates with folks is crucial to the survival of bats and butterflies and a zillion other species. Thinking that margaritas and monarchs could very well be a distant memory strikes a sympathetic chord in many.
So when Rob asked me to help create native garden designs and native plant information for those who wanted to take their sympathy one step further to help the bats, I was 100% in.
Native plants support native insects, which are required by native bats to survive. So if you’re ready to convert either a corner of your yard or the whole darn thing to native habitat, check out the new Bat Gardening eGuide!
Jennifer L. Baker is the Principal of Sparrow Landscaping llc and creator of the Organization for Bat Conservation’s Bat Garden eGuide.
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