Among the remnants of the formal landscape design we inherited in our new old home were several robust specimens of honeysuckle. Each one 20 feet tall with a crown spread of 15 feet. With sculpted-limbs evocative of a Japanese garden. Their blossoms fragrant. Their early and long-lasting leafage providing welcome screens from neighbors. Their bright red berries magnets for birds throughout the entire year.
One of our top priorities was to cut down the honeysuckles and grind out their stumps, along with several of their highly invasive offspring.
There are several species of honeysuckle, the most common of which is Amur Bush Honeysuckle. Native to the likes of Japan, China, Korea, Turkey, and southern Russia, it was introduced in the late 19th century as an ornamental — for the very reason it was used in our backyard garden. It’s lovely. In fact, my wife and I debated whether or not to keep it, despite knowing how invasive it has become, degrading many of our beloved natural areas throughout the Midwest.
The idea of non-native plants being invasive is alien to a lot of folks. According to the American Public Gardens Association, the term “invasive species” was first used in 1958, but the field of “invasion biology” didn’t kick into gear until the 80s and 90s. In Illinois, the Illinois Exotic Weeds Act was passed in 1987, which makes it “unlawful for any person, corporation, political subdivision, agency or department of the State to buy, sell, offer for sale, distribute, or plant seeds, plants, or plant parts of exotic weeds,” including Amur Bush Honeysuckle.
Regarding our inherited invasives, my wife and I ultimately chose to be guided by the ethos of the American Public Gardens Association — as well as my own experience as a volunteer steward at the likes of Midewin National Tallgrass Prairie — “knowing better, public gardens are committed to doing better by removing known invasives, educating the public, and continually monitoring their collections for potential signs of plant spread.”
We hired a local arborist to remove eight massive honeysuckles, along with their stumps to prevent them resprouting (one of several reasons honeysuckles have become so persistently invasive.) At right, measuring 20″ in diameter, the “tree cookie” harvested from one of the trunks of our honeysuckles, reveals their multi-stem virility.
I tackled several small “volunteer” honeysuckles but let me tell you — grubbing them out is not for the faint of heart. They lack taproots but form dense, fibrous root mats with several rebar-like main roots extending a few feet.
Now that we have cleared our inherited landscape of Amur Bush Honeysuckle (as well as European Buckthorn, Burning Bush and Japanese Barberry, also “exotic weeds” in Illinois), what’s next? What shall we plant to replace them — to marry the principles of formal landscape design with the use of native plants? Stay tuned.
