After moving from the city to rural Rappahannock County, Washington Post columnist Dana Milbank has embarked on a journey of natural discovery.
supplied photo.
Every seat was filled Saturday, April 13, as Dana Milbank recounted what led him to be aiming a bolt-action rifle out of his bathroom window at three whitetail deer. The answer, besides good luck and bad timing, is that the population of whitetail deer has swelled to more than 14 times what the ecosystem can handle. The deer, Milbank says, have become “ecological bullies,” stripping the forest of leaves and unraveling the food web.
The Washington Post columnist has been writing about rural life and its proximity to environmental concerns, or one might prefer to say environmental degradation, since moving from the city to 60 acres in Rappahannock County. With a combination of humorous wit and self-mockery, Milbank has expanded on topics of light pollution, rural access to broadband, the march of invasive species, the decline of pollinators, and the consequences of an invisible insect genocide in between his usual political commentary for the Post.
Milbank approaches the environmental impacts and large-scale shifts of the Anthropocene through a lens of discovery, learning about life in rural America as an outsider on his property. Now living in an area more sensitive to those changes, Milbank recounts his struggles as he goes about trying his best to be a good steward of the land—planting trees, restoring riparian zones, and building pollinator meadows.
Summing up his labors on the farm, Milbank said, “You can sit here and be depressed about what’s happening to our planet, and there’s plenty of justification for that, or you can go out and plant a tree.”
And he has been planting trees on his parcel of land. Writing about his efforts in the garden, he’s said, “Years from now, those tender oak seedlings, now 6-inch twigs, will stretch as high as 100 feet, feeding and sheltering generations of wild animals struggling to survive climate change and habitat loss. I won’t be alive to see it. Yet even now, my infant oaks give me something the most stunning cherry blossoms never could: a sense of hope.”
Event moderator Rowena Zimmermann identified Milbank’s attitude toward hope as essential, equating the hope expressed in his writings on the farm with the hope expressed in his commentary on politics. He wrote of political engagement, “I think it’s important because we’ve got to try. We’ve got to do our part so we can say to our kids and our grandkids that at least we tried. That’s the reason to keep on doing this, even if it’s having no discernible effect and even if the people who most need to hear it aren’t paying the slightest bit of attention.”
It’s the attitude that keeps Milbank chipping away at the ailanthus, an invasive, prolific, and stubborn tree that dots the roadside in Rappahannock County.
“It’s like every other tree is ailanthus,” Milbank mused.
Invasive species in the environment is a rapidly progressing reality that the evening with Milbank hoped to raise awareness of. The talk was hosted by Blue Ridge PRISM, a volunteer-driven organization dedicated to reducing the impact of invasive plants. Seasonal workshops, assistance, education, and stewardship programs are available through the nonprofit, which works with landowners to manage invasive plants.
In fact, Milbank’s recently completed training as a master naturalist was partly facilitated by members of Blue Ridge PRISM. Though Milbank characteristically chooses to laugh at himself: “You have to put ‘master’ in quotes. It sounds cool to say you’re a ‘master’ naturalist, and it implies that you know what you’re talking about. But, as you’ve seen tonight, that’s obviously not true in all cases.”
Devin Floyd has made his knowledge of, and love for, the Piedmont into a personal vocation by working to restore it in all its ecological diversity.
Floyd is the executive director of the Center for Urban Habitats, an environmental education, research, and consulting group that he created in 2012. But its mission really began decades ago, with a young boy raised in the Blue Ridge.
When Floyd was about 6, the family moved to the mountains of northwest North Carolina, eventually settling in southwest Virginia, in a log cabin in the Mt. Rogers area. “We lived in the woods,” Floyd recalls. “My parents made a living making crafts and working with plants, and my grandmother encouraged me to engage with nature. I spent every day outside, and absorbed so much about the animals and plants.”
Floyd earned a baseball scholarship to James Madison University and a degree in prehistoric archaeology (with minors in geology and art). He got a job as an archaeologist at James Madison’s Montpelier in Orange, and then at Oatlands in Leesburg, where he also did work as a freelance technical illustrator. Archaeology, Floyd says, requires a skill at reading landscape, which came naturally to him, given his upbringing. In addition, concentrating in this one region of Virginia was deepening his knowledge of the flora, fauna, geology, and ecological niches of this area.
His environmental interests led Floyd into a collaboration with nature-lovers, hikers, educators, and scientists in the Mount Rogers area. The result was the Blue Ridge Discovery Center, near Marion, Virginia. The nonprofit, which Floyd co-founded in 2008, has a mission to combine environmental research, education, conservation, and stewardship in a multi-faceted approach to learning about and living with the natural world.
By this time, Floyd and his wife had settled in Charlottesville. Floyd was working at Monticello on a major project, a plantation survey of Tufton, one of Thomas Jefferson’s farm holdings bordering Monticello. But Floyd’s interests were evolving.
“I became increasingly aware that people saw [the landscape] as here to manipulate,” Floyd says. “But I was reading it as plants responding to the geology, the soils, all the inputs of their environment.” He began looking for the areas that were still free of modern human degradation—and he saw a whole new world.
The Piedmont, a geological area that stretches from Alabama to the Hudson River Valley, is the most populous ecosystem in North America, Floyd points out, and has been through centuries of human habitation and activity. “But even here, all over are little pieces of ground that are undisturbed, like finding a little time capsule.” He calls these pockets “remnants,” areas that have never been developed, never been sprayed or treated with herbicides, never even been plowed.
With this personal epiphany, says Floyd, “everything changed.” He started using his environmental and botanical knowledge to create landscapes using plants specific to that particular microhabitat. His first project was designing the plantings for a homeowner’s patio; instead of the usual Virginia native or rock garden plants, he selected species that fit the site’s particular geology and microhabitat—in this case, a Piedmont mafic barren (mafic referring to the underlying rock types and barren meaning that natural plant growth is sparse).
To meet the needs of clients who wanted more detailed ecological assessments of the habitats, plants, and animals across their properties, Floyd began finding and collaborating with others in the Charlottesville area who were equally devoted and knowledgeable about this area’s ecology.
In 2014, he left his Monticello job to concentrate full-time on the Center for Urban Habitats, a group of like-minded environmentalists and educators (including his wife Rachel), with specialties from plants, birds, and insects to landscape restoration, publications, and web design. The organization’s mix of environmental research, conservation, and education was like that which spurred the Blue Ridge Discovery Center, but instead of the wilder area of southwest Virginia, CUH’s focus was the more domesticated landscape of Charlottesville and its surrounding counties. If he was going to educate folks about their natural world, Floyd thought, “Let’s go to their backyard.”
Many of CUH’s first projects were as much educational as environmental. The Wildlife Garden at Clark Elementary School was designed as a hands-on way for children to learn ecological basics, using native plants specifically adapted to the site and exceptionally supportive for wildlife. Jackson-Via Elementary School’s Owl Magnet, which students helped build and now study as it evolves, created a habitat with the right mix of plants, insects, and animals to make a perfect hunting habitat for owls. A native pollinator sanctuary in Friendship Court (now Kindlewood) was part of a community garden project led by the Urban Agriculture Collective of Charlottesville and other community organizations. Most recently, CUH helped design and build an outdoor living classroom for science and art at Nelson County Middle School.
These and other projects—including a native plants garden in Court Square, pollinator plantings on the curb extensions along Hinton Avenue, and a path and meadows project still under construction at Ix Art Park—were created in cooperation with community partners and funded by local and state agencies, donations, and grants.
Armand and Bernice Thieblot turned to Devin Floyd to transform the derelict soapstone quarry on their Schuyler property into The Quarry Gardens, which now includes 14 ecozones, seven conservation areas, an education center, and walking trails. Photo by Tom Daly.
Floyd was increasingly sought out by private landowners seeking to return their property to its more native state. One of CUH’s best-known and most ambitious projects grew out of a 2014 presentation Floyd did about the Ix Art Park project for a master gardeners group, which included Bernice Thieblot who, with her husband Armand, owned a large ridgetop tract near Schuyler that included a derelict soapstone quarry. Inspired by a visit to British Columbia’s Butchart Gardens, extensive formal gardens created a century ago in a former limestone quarry, the Thieblots wanted to build an exhibition garden of native plants, and Bernice saw Floyd as “just the right person.”
“Our site is unusual,” Thieblot explains. “It’s right on the edge of both the Piedmont and the Blue Ridge [ecoregions], and the soapstone bedrock means our soil is very pH basic, which is unusual in this area. It’s also hilly, with lots of wet and dry areas. Devin came out to take a look, and was intrigued.”
Over the next year, the CUH team came out every few weeks to survey the site and its existing biota, design a plan to restore the microhabitats there, and develop a comprehensive plant list. Site work and planting began in the spring of 2016, and The Quarry Gardens opened in the spring of 2017. It now includes 14 ecozones and seven conservation areas, as well as an education center that offers exhibits on both the local ecology and the history of the soapstone industry, general and specialist tours, two miles of walking trails, and speakers on topics from native plants to geology, spiders, fungus, and moths. And because the work is never done in a garden, the CUH team leads volunteer work days every Friday morning.
The 40-acre Quarry Gardens was a massive challenge, but Floyd and CUH were willing to take on smaller, backyard projects. In 2018, a recent retiree from northern Virginia bought an Albemarle County house with a backyard that was “a disaster—the former owner had used it for doggie day care.”
Over the years, the new owner became more and more interested in native plants, and Floyd became well known in native plant circles. She invited him to take a look at her yard, and “he came out in the freezing cold, and got all excited. He told me I had the kind of soil that Jefferson and Madison had come here to farm,” she says.
CUH developed a four-zone garden plan, and preparing and planting the yard took a couple of years. At that time, the homeowner recalls, “native plants were hard to source, and expensive.” Getting a grant from a local government conservation program helped (see sidebar), but she’s still happily investing in her piece of ecological heaven. “You should see the difference. The wildflowers I have, and the birds I get here … I get hawks hunting in my yard. As they say, if you build it, they will come.”
While gardeners’ knowledge about and demand for native plants was increasing, Floyd found the ones on sale at nurseries weren’t always the same plants he was finding in unspoiled habitats. Many plants have developed specific genotypes adapted to their individual environmental microhabitats. To meet that need, CUH is creating a network of local genotype native plant growers, including Twinleaf Native Nursery, Little Bluestem Nursery, Hummingbird Hill Native Plant Nursery, and private landowners.
The challenge of restoring the environment that was here originally is not all about plants. Perhaps one of CUH’s most unusual projects is the salamander crossing under Route 29 at Polo Grounds and Rio Mills roads. In the 1990s, local nature-lovers Bess and Jim Murray had located one of the largest colonies of spotted salamanders in the state, and the amphibians needed to migrate every spring from their wooded upland habitat to their mating grounds on the floodplains across the busy highway. Working with Albemarle County, VDOT, the Virginia Safe Wildlife Corridor Collaborative, and Riverbend Development, CUH was able to get a wildlife tunnel and guide walls constructed to allow salamanders (and other creatures) to cross safely under Route 29 and fulfill their life cycle.
While the need for more research, education, restoration, and conservation are unending, Floyd is also taking on a whole new aspect of recovering ancient landscapes. Among the remnants of the prehistoric Piedmont that Floyd has been identifying are a habitat that has been ignored: grasslands. It’s a common assumption that pre-colonial Virginia was one huge expanse of forest. In fact, he says, “50 percent of the Piedmont was savanna.” CUH has already identified more than a thousand grassland remnants in central Virginia, and is beginning to identify patterns in their distinctive biota. Many of these plants are clonal (growing vegetatively, not by sexual reproduction), which makes them literally ancient. Floyd describes finding these old-growth habitats as “coming across an abandoned cabin in the woods.”
Savanna remnants may be tiny, but they aren’t rare. CUH has found at least 300 sites on roadsides throughout our area. “You could drive by one every day, within 10 miles of your house,” Floyd says. “There are some grassland areas at Preddy Creek Trail Park, along the paths in Hilltop Meadows. Look for green milkweed.”
Grassland remnants of a size large enough to support wildlife as well as plants are particularly rich and biodiverse. CUH has already gotten two grants from the Virginia Native Plant Society to study these savanna fragments, with a goal of conserving and protecting them for further research. In one of the study proposals, Floyd wrote, “Before we can make room [for] natural grasslands, or begin to inspire others to love and steward them, we must learn how to see them.”
Learning to see has been Devin Floyd’s life work.
When your yard needs a little green
Restoring a native plant community or creating a conservation-oriented landscape takes time—and money. The Thomas Jefferson Soil and Water Conservation District has supported several CUH projects, including the Owl Magnet at Jackson-Via Elementary School and the above-mentioned backyard restoration.
Funding for the backyard restoration came through a grant from TJSWCD’s Virginia Conservation Assistance Program, a cost-share program for residential or other developed land uses. VCAP provides financial, technical, and educational assistance to property owners who adopt eligible “best management practices” in the Chesapeake Bay watershed. The Albemarle Conservation Assistance Program and Charlottesville Conservation Assistance Program are similar, with special funding from Albemarle County and the City of Charlottesville.
Property owners and schools or places of worship at least a year old may be eligible for assistance to treat and control stormwater runoff, control erosion, conserve water within the landscape, improve riparian buffer areas, and promote native vegetation and wildlife habitats.
For more information, go to tjswcd.org/best-management-practices-homeowners.
Ed. note: This story has been updated to better clarify the details of Devin Floyd’s early life.
