The husband and I have been tackling invasive species on our property.
The primary offender and target is Amur Honeysuckle, also called Asian Bush Honeysuckle (Lonicera maackii). It looks nothing like a native honeysuckle, but some people deliberately planted it in gardens, and that was a terrible idea. Now, it’s freakin’ everywhere, and it’s a problem — it don’t feed much of anything here, so it spreads ferociously while reducing useful food for native insects and animals.
Look at how this shrub spreads — it’s very dense, and the native seedlings are going to have a tough time finding a place to grow. It also dries out the soil and increases predator access to bird nests, reducing populations. And even if you don’t care about native plants and birds and pollinators, you might care that the spread of this invasive changes the local ecosystem with the result of a lot more ticks. (More ticks and thus more tick disease are already a climate-related problem; let’s not add to it!)
This shrub is everywhere in my county, and from what I’ve read, the plants along roadsides and hedgerows and fence lines are even more harmful than those bunched in the woods. That’s private and public property.
The fall is the perfect time to murder it.
Smaller plants can be pulled, including the roots. The best way to kill a larger amur honeysuckle is to cut the trunk and then immediately (within 5 minutes or so) paint or spray the exposed trunk with glysophate. I’m not a fan of broad herbicide use, but this targeted application is one time it’s called for. Make sure it’s a high concentration, consisting of about 20% glysophate. (Keep in mind that many options sold at your local store may be as little as 2%. Anything you could treat with that, you could also treat with plain boiling water more cheaply.)
Why can’t I just cut it down?
You certainly can — but without the glysophate, new growth will spring up from the extensive root system, making this a Sisyphean task.
During the autumn, the shrub is pulling nutrients and energy down for winter, so herbicide will be delivered most efficiently to the root system. This is why fall treatment is more efficient.
This shrub may be only a stalk or two a couple of feet tall, if young, or it can be the size of a tree if aged, up to 20 feet tall. If a tree, cut and paint or heavily spray the stump. If a stalk, lop or cut and then spray into the stalk. Amur honeysuckle has a hollow pith in the center which can hold more glysophate.
Why can’t I just spray the leaves?
It probably won’t kill the amur honeysuckle, but it will adversely affect other local vegetation and animal life. Cutting and treating the stump is the most effective method, and you’re going to want efficiency, because if you see this plant, there’s probably a lot of it.
Do you have any good news?
Yes! There are a lot of bad invasive species plants that can root from cuttings and restart the problem, like plant zombies. These don’t do that; you can pile the cuttings in a heap to compost them or mulch them or whatever.
This seems like a lot of work. Is this really a problem?
Well, it depends how much you like your local nature.
Earlier this year I went for a walk on one of my favorite urban trails, a reclaimed railway. The path was densely packed with amur honeysuckle on both sides, with only the tallest of native trees piercing above its growth. The native trees were losing ground, however, to the *#$%&!! Bradford pears spreading from local housing editions.
In four miles of wooded trail, I saw only a half dozen birds, of only three very common species.
Even with the shifting baseline problem skewing one’s perception, it’s not hard to suppose that a half dozen birds of just three species in four miles of trees is a very bad count. (Or consider this sad news.)
And this week, I saw it’s happening on another favorite path:
We need to stop the spread!
Planting invasive species is not only a bad idea, it’s unnecessary. Here, you can get a very similar-looking shrub to the invasive amur honeysuckle, with similar white flowers in early spring, by planting a native dogwood. All the beauty, all the benefits, none of the downsides.
But native plants look like weeds!
First, let’s consider why culturally we consider the appropriate, healthy flowers which are part of the local ecosystem and which require less water and no chemicals to thrive are called “weeds,” while we value plants that require lots of water and chemicals and care and provide few ecological benefits in return. That says a lot, actually.
But also, quite a lot of those plants we spurned for being too easy are also fabulous.
Passionflowers occur all over the world, and while it’s important to check which species is native to your area, there probably is one. This gorgeous passiflora incarnata is native, ridiculously hardy, bears sweet fruit, and will drench your area in intensely fragrant flowers that look far more exotic than they are. These are my worst photos, but I’m sharing them because they’re the most recent, because this summer-blooming vine is still going.
(A tip when buying plants: If the plant is tagged “locally grown!” that means only that it was commercially raised in-state, not that the plant species itself is native. But there are many great resources for finding native plants, or look for a retailer that specializes in natives supporting pollinators.)
My request: Support pollinators, wildlife, and ourselves by planting native and removing invasive species!
https://ohioline.osu.edu/factsheet/F-68