Last fall, when I was in New England, my friend Margaret Ellen treated me to a trip aboard RiverQuest, an excursion vessel owned and operated by the Connecticut River Museum.
The day was brisk but sunny and the river was beautiful. In spite of a significant human population across the region, much habitat remains along the shores of this historic waterway and up its rocky banks.
Only one thing marred an otherwise perfect day for me. That was the presence of a habitat-devouring alien plant, Phragmites australis, which crowded out native wetland vegetation surrounding islands and growing into little inlets.
Phragmites australis, or common reed, is a European wetland plant species that was introduced to the New World late in the 19th century. It is now found in every state across the Lower 48 and well into Canada. It is perhaps the most aggressive alien wetland plant on our continent, reportedly overtaking not only native vegetation, but also crowding out other non-natives like reed canary grass and purple loosestrife.
This very tall, grassy-looking plant is reported to change both the structure and the function of wetland ecosystems by altering nutrient cycles and hydrological processes. Dense stands of Phragmites australis have been found to support decreased native biodiversity, particularly migrating wading birds and waterfowl.
A survey of Connecticut marshes revealed that wetland-dependant rare and threatened bird species are excluded when Phragmites invades. It can encroach upon piping plover nesting sites. Rails like soras, Virginia rails and federally listed yellow rails cannot use dense stands of this plant. Nesting common yellowthroats virtually disappear, along with marsh wrens and swamp sparrows.
If these birds did build nests within a solid stand of Phragmites, where would they find the insects to feed their young? Like other non-native plants, this one does not support the insect biomass required by nesting birds for their young.
An April walk at sunrise around a large Phrag-filled wetland in our own state indicated that amphibian populations also suffer. At a time of year when spring peepers are screaming their tiny heads off in search of mates, this pond was absolutely silent. Not a single frog of any kind called. It was eerily silent.
Thus, during my trip on the Connecticut River, I had to mentally block out the alien plant along the shore and concentrate instead on the history of the place, the birds that were there (osprey were abundant) and the glorious weather. Best of all, of course, was the time with my dear lifelong friend.
Now this awful vegetative menace has come to our special corner of the world. It has shown up along the big lakes, the bays and even in inland areas. I don't know what conservationists plan to do, if anything, about Phragmites along the Connecticut River. But here in the Grand Traverse area, the threat is not taken lightly. A broad coalition of governmental and nonprofit organizations is working on a plan of attack. A recent planning session was hosted by Michigan DNR at the Civic Center. Participants included the Nature Conservancy, MDEQ, MUCC, local conservancies and conservation districts, and my own organization, Saving Birds Thru Habitat. The focus was to put together a spring event to educate the public about this plant and the threat it brings to our native flora and fauna.
The good news is that wildlife populations -- birds and butterflies, frogs, fishes and reptiles -- recover after chemical control of Phragmites. If you live along any body of water, keep an eye out for announcements about this upcoming presentation. Then make it a point to join us in the battle to get rid of this unwelcome invader.
Kay Charter, of Omena, is executive director of Saving Birds Thru Habitat.






