Boundaries & Buttercups

Green buttercup leaves in a mat/
Buttercup leaves forming a mat.

Earlier this summer, I discovered a few lovely yellow buttercup flowers under the Honeycrisp apple tree. I didn’t think too much about it. They were so pretty. Later, when I was mowing the orchard undergrowth, I mowed those flowers along with everything else. But more recently, I realized that the buttercups had spread all over the ground near that tree, and were crowding out any other plants. So once again, I did some research and discovered that Ranunculus repens, creeping buttercup, is considered invasive in Maine.

I don’t know how it got here. And it is likely that I won’t be able to get rid of it entirely–each plant puts out horizontal stems that take root at its nodes and form new plants at each node. But I have to try. Further research suggested that using a garden fork to loosen the soil and lift up the plants was a good way to pull the plants with their roots. Also, it prefers acidic soil, so adding lime to make the soil less acidic can discourage them. I started pulling them yesterday, and did some more this morning before the rain came.

Small tree with a few apples on its branches, at the ground we see green  all over, except in one area where soil is visible, and a garden fork in the lower right.
Here you can see the section I pulled and the other huge section covered with buttercup plants.

I was complaining about all this to Margy, and she reminded me that a large part of our gardening is removing problematic plants in order to encourage beneficial plants. So while I delight in the violets that spread everywhere, and the wild strawberries–both native ground covers that have flourished in the orchard, I also have to reckon with these invaders that come in from who knows where.

Invasive plants don’t have good boundaries! Now, there are also some native plants that are quite aggressive growers too. One example is Canada anemone, or anemone canadensis, which Sylvia planted in the herb garden. The difference is that native plants have more benefits for the local ecosystem. But I pulled hundreds of these plants to make room for the littlest apple tree. I put down cardboard boundaries around the circle, and over the circle, then covered it with wood chips. I may also use that method for the buttercup areas to see if that helps.

Very small tree in a circle of wood chips, with lush green plants at the back of the circle.
Small Blue Pearmain apple tree, with a ring of Canada Anemone around the back.

So once again, lessons can be learned from plants and the process of tending them in the garden. Plants have many different relationships with each other. Can aggressive or invasive plants eventually find some sort of balance? Some non-native plants find a useful niche and honor the boundaries of plants around them. We might also ask ourselves, How are we in our own relationships with others? Are we aggressively pushing out others to claim all the space and goods for ourselves? Or are we good at sharing space and goods with our neighbors? Are we also careful with our own boundaries, not letting others treat us aggressively?

And I can’t even consider these questions without thinking about the early colonization of this continent by Europeans–they certainly fit the definition of an “invasive species,” destroying so much in their spread across the continent. Yet here we are now. Can we learn to live in harmony with all beings around us?

Boundaries

Boundary

[The side boundary two weeks ago.]

Boundaries in land are something of a legal fiction.  The land can’t really be owned by anyone.  But they do matter, because we can only protect the land that is within the boundaries identified as “ours” by pieces of paper.

The other day, a neighbor who lives to the side of the back of our yard mentioned that they might want to put in a fence.  We were alarmed that they might cut some trees, but then they said they were not planning to do that.  But they got a little riled by our asking about the trees.

The thing is, we didn’t get a chance to say this, but we had thought that the trees between our properties were on water district land, because our deed identifies our boundary as bordering on water district land.  [You can see the line of trees and bushes behind our compost bins in this photo from two weeks ago.]  But today I did some research and discovered that their deed in fact includes at least some of the water district land, and perhaps might come right up to ours.

It is all both explicit and very vague on our deed, especially in reference to the back half–because it refers to the old Portland Gardens plan.  For example, where that part of our land begins is stated to be about 99 feet across, while the back line of our property is stated to be 161 feet across.  But it is unclear exactly how and where it is anchored or where it expands–it doesn’t correspond to what was mowed as lawn.  (And it would cost thousands to get a survey, we were told.)  And if you look on the current tax map, the water district land seems to be 53 feet across between the properties.  But I don’t see how there are that many feet between us, even if all the “hedge row” is included.

However, the deed for the neighbor’s yard cites an iron pipe at the corner boundary next to their road, and then “83.31 feet to an iron pipe and land now or formerly of the Portland Water District.”  The wording is odd–but I found an earlier deed that ceded some 56 feet of PWD land (on that side) to that parcel–and it makes sense, they couldn’t have built a house on the land without it.  Then it angles back to a narrow point further back.  Sometimes I wonder if it is all something of a fiction–maybe the plan for Portland Gardens didn’t really match the actual land, and nobody actually has the number of feet listed.

But all day today I have been worried about the trees.  The black cherry and the cedar.  The ones I haven’t learned the names of yet.  We love the trees for themselves, and also for the privacy they create in this place during the summer.  Margy has spent a lot of time cutting down bittersweet from these trees.  And I’ve been wondering where the boundary really is.  There is too much snow right now to hunt for that iron pipe.  But I surely will as soon as enough has melted.  It all feels so vulnerable.