My cheeks still flush just thinking about it. I was touring one of those big, fancy British gardens you see on TV, staring at a bed covered in America’s native mayapple, and the first thing out of my mouth was whether they were ephemeral or not. The pang of shame I felt upon positing this question was immediate (as an American, I should have already known the answer), and it has its roots in years of courses and symposia led by instructors that told me I should learn every detail of native plants since they were the only ones worth planting—anything else was environmentally irresponsible, worthy of horticultural blacklisting. But in a world of climate extremes that continues to showcase how damaging fanaticism can be, new knowledge and approaches about native gardening have me questioning just how rigid we should be about planting natives. Because if I’m being honest, I prefer hellebores anyway.

Here are three ways to break from natives-only dogma.

N.B.: Featured photograph, above, of wild areas bumping against formal ones at Stoneleigh Garden in Villanova, PA, by David Korbonits, courtesy of Natural Lands.

Natives have a place in formal gardens.

Stoneleigh in Villanova, PA, is a traditional garden that was largely designed by the Olmstead brothers in the early 20th century. Entrusted to the Natural Lands in 2016 and re-opened to the public in 2018, its primary mission is to increase biodiversity and introduce native plants in a way that complements, and doesn’t compete with, the existing formal context. To accomplish this, the garden team has rewilded old lawns and made bogs out of an old pool, but what’s more intriguing is the way they’ve applied all sorts of conventional horticultural methods to native species, doing crazy things like espaliering Cercis and training Cladrastris around pergolas. It’s a refreshingly novel approach, especially given that when most people think of native gardens the image that comes to mind is a scrubby field or prairie. What could a Tuileries-inspired native garden look like, I wonder? 

And non-natives have a place in biodiverse landscapes.

When it comes to British gardens, Great Dixter is an institution. Continuously gardened since the early 20th century, the site comprises ancient managed woodland, meadows, and a few acres of ornamental gardens. Each space is maintained organically, with a particular emphasis on biodiversity and native pollinators in its meadows, where habitat piles are assembled and English orchids are encouraged to thrive. So it’s a bit surprising to learn that a biodiversity audit revealed that the most species-rich portion of the property was actually its ornamental gardens, where plenty of non-native plants are grown. That’s because a slew of nectar-rich options, along with an active garden that mimics the natural cycles of disturbance and regeneration, creates ideal conditions for a variety of birds, insects, and other wildlife.

It’s hard to say if these spaces would be nearly as rich without the surrounding wild ones, but what it does mean is that maybe we shouldn’t feel so bad about planting a rose from China or phlomis from the Mediterranean as long as we’re encouraging native habitats more broadly. At this year’s NDAL Conference, researcher Desiree Narango pointed to initiatives in places like Somerville, MA, that challenge residents to create native-ish gardens composed of 80 percent native material as the goal. It also points to the idea that in many ways it’s the how we garden, not the what we garden, that matters most. 

The most important native: a keystone plant.

In Nature’s Best Hope, acclaimed naturalist and author Doug Tallamy estimates that only 10 percent of our native pollinators are generalists. That’s to say, the vast majority of insects in our environment has evolved to have a beneficial relationship with a single plant genus or species, and only a small percent will forage for food wherever it may be readily available. Looking at planting design through this lens, it’s fair to say that certain plants we see covered in all types of bees, dragonflies, and other insects, native or not, are only beneficial as long as we are also encouraging those less showy, highly specialized relationships (e.g., asclepias and monarchs). Additionally, research has shown that native woody material (read: trees and shrubs) host many, many more species of moths, bees, butterflies, and birds than their herbaceous counterparts. So before you get bent out of shape about whether you should plant New England asters instead of Anemone hupehensis for fall interest in your beds, maybe just plant an oak tree and then do whatever you want. I won’t judge you. 

See also:

• Is Gardening Art? Fergus Garrett Makes a Compelling Case
• Ask the Expert: Doug Tallamy Explains Why (and How to) Leave the Leaves
• To Rewild or Not to Rewild? 10 or So Questions with Landscape Designer Jinny Blom