If you’re going to be somewhere in North Carolina in July, I might suggest the mountains. Amazing what a difference a few thousand feet of altitude and a couple of degrees of longitude can etch into the increasingly graffiti-ed mess of accidental art that keeps rolling out in front of me each morning. I’ll not go on about how troubling these times may be, or how interesting the way events have unfolded over the last little while; not really on topic. This month, we’re going to let y’all in on the little secret that is the Native Plant Conference that takes place annually at Western Carolina University in Cullowhee, NC. Plant Camp.
A gathering of like-minded souls
Each year, there is a ripening, a swelling of excitement within the group of folks who follow the media around the horticultural arts, specifically, the wonderful world of native plants. It is as the last bit of foggy breath is blown into barely cold knuckles, and the final flyover of frosty rime settles briefly on the creeping phlox, the switching station pulling us off the winter rails and onto the spring. A time when metaphors and similes crash into each other like so many punch-drunk dragonflies. You get the point.
We get antsy with the approach of warmth, and then the email from WCU hits the Inbox and it’s registration time. Huzzah.
Plant Camp logo 2025, artwork by Dayna Walton, Solstice Handmade
The link to register used to be a clunky piece of machine-folded and saddle-stapled ephemera called a brochure, perhaps a pamphlet. A notice to all receivers of the upcoming event held just about 2 miles from Sylva. And those of us who have been looking forward to the process of registering for a native plant conference are literally beside ourselves with excitement.
Once we have satisfied ourselves with the website and signed on for all the things (see below), we sit back and sigh, knowing that this was just a taste, that the actual fun will have to wait for warmer and brighter days. It definitely got warmer as May melted into June and then June found its way out of a hole in the bottom of the soggy cone and started to go all Pollock onto the shiny tops of July’s dress shoes. I do not recall ever hearing the term “heat brain” used as often as I have this summer. It’s a thing, y’all, I’m convinced. Thank goodness there’s refuge, or at least air conditioning. For my part, it’s head down and light layers, plenty of water and shade, occasional thoughts of summer plans that do not involve hands and knees and cartloads of stiltgrass.
Why will nothing eat this grass?
It’s mid-July and I’ve gassed up and packed up the wagon and I’m heading up the hill. The ride up 40 through Asheville is a long, somewhat boring run, except for the first sight of foothills, the low tumble that you get once you’re past Statesville and then you start to feel the climb. The nestling doesn’t come until just past there, into another tumble of hills that flows west and south along I-40 and split off at 26 and again at 74, content to meander along all the way to Murphy. I take the first Sylva exit, enjoying the conversation between landmarks and myself that wordlessly rolls out under tired tires.
The Cullowhee Native Plant Conference started quite modestly as the result of a bit of leftover monies that the Tennessee Valley Authority needed to spend. The funds were sent over to WCU with the intent of sponsoring a small conference that would be focused on the use and benefits of native plants in the landscape. And earlier in July, I’m proud to say that we helped make the 41st annual Cullowhee Native Plant Conference a success.
“We’ve got to protect the things that live with us.”
Presenter Kristen Wickert, scientist and author
The Plants of the Appalachian Trail: A Hiker’s Guide to 398 Species
Attention, campers!
So, you may be wondering, what do several hundred people get up to over in the sleepy community of Cullowhee, NC, each July?
This year, nearly 600 of us gathered over four days to see old friends, make a few new ones, share knowledge, grouse and snipe, eat, drink and build community. We came in from all over the Southeast because we all care. We love and respect the environment that shelters us, that feeds us, that raises us up to be caretakers. We savor this opportunity to be in each other’s company and to come away from this gathering a bit less broken, a bit more hopeful. It’s July in the mountains of western North Carolina—how can you not? I realize I’m getting a little fizzy here. Thanks for bearing with me.
Ready for the next big talk
Invasive species
As you might imagine at a convening of native plant enthusiasts, there was a lot of discussion about invasives, including the way we refer to them, something I’ve discussed in this column a time or two. I solemnly promise I’ll be coming back to that topic again before too long. We even held two half-day invasive removal service projects at the WCU Picnic Area.
“Nothing is certain but death, taxes and stiltgrass.”
Presenter Dillon Turner, landscape architect and arborist,
Wetland Studies & Solutions, Inc.
Conservation activist, ornithologist and poet J. Drew Lanham challenged us to think of some invasives as “ecologically compatible” species since they take so well to the landscape and, in some cases, even create habitat. (If you haven’t read his memoir or latest poetry collection, you should!) And ecologist Doug Tallamy, co-founder of Homegrown National Park, reminded us that compatibility is amplified in part because the arrivals have few if any natural predators here. Of course, that also means there’s less native flora for the ever-expanding numbers of deer, putting additional strain on what natives remain.
MacArthur Fellow and ecologist J. Drew Lanham on the main stage
More topics and activities
On top of a wide array of plenary and concurrent sessions that you can read about in the digital program, we had a slew of hands-on workshops.
Upcycling Workshop: creating plantable seed paper
Seed paper and botanical imprint making. Traditional knowledge and Indigenous engagement. Evocative nature writing. Sustainable landscaping and ethical seed gathering. Plant pigments, habitat creation, stone-casting, moss gardening, plant foraging. Graminoid identification (grasses y’all, and sedges—cannot leave them out).
“No grassland is too small to have value—they are all working lands for wildlife.”
Presenter Corlee Thomas-Hill, tribal liaison
Southeastern Grasslands Institute
And excursions. Our field trips are a point of pride, and we are fortunate to partner with some incredibly generous and talented trip leaders. When it’s time to sign up for the conference, these trips are usually the first to fill up. People seem to enjoy piling into vans and buses and heading out into the woods for the day. Well, yeah, beats sitting in front of a laptop typing all morning. My word, there were a lot of them this year. To a vertical bog. To Panthertown Valley. To Judaculla Rock. Kayaking on the Little Tennessee and botanizing by boat on Bear Lake. Tours of the NC Arboretum and the Highlands Biological Research Station. Tree identification and stream restoration walks on the WCU campus.
A gentle reminder left along Cullowhee Creek.
Did I mention the 24 vendors peddling native plants and botanically inspired goods like clothing, art and tools? Yeah. We had that, too. The floor of the Ramsey Arena becomes a marketplace for all manner of goods. We’re especially fond of our friends at City Lights Books, the locally owned shop in Sylva that does the seriously heavy lifting of bringing a fully populated bookshop onto the arena floor every year, featuring books by speakers alongside other plant-focused tomes and related items.
After a full day of learning and doing, Plant Campers head outside for an evening of mothing, music and other merriment. [[Note: yes, it’s mothing with an M!]]
And, of course, we have a talent show. Wouldn’t be a respectable camp without that! After supper on Friday, all are invited to share their talent for the benefit and betterment of all. Every year is a surprise, as it should be. To say anything else about this would dim its mysterious and wonderful light; you’ll just have to come see next time around.
I hope this recap affords you dear readers a bit of the magic that takes place over yonder each summer. The Cullowhee Native Plant Conference is a memorable thing. Many attend, many return. We’re already planning next year’s conference, my last as its director. It’s going to be swell. Come see us.
All photos by Geoffrey Neal & Margot Lester.
Geoffrey Neal is the director of the Cullowhee Native Plant Conference. You can see more of his photography at @soapyair and @gffry. Margot Lester is a certified interpretive naturalist and a writer and editor at The Word Factory.
About the name: A refugium (ri-fyü-jē-em) is a safe space, a place to shelter, and – more formally – an area in which a population of organisms can survive through a period of unfavorable conditions or crisis. We intend this column to inspire you to seek inspiration and refuge in nature, particularly at the Arboretum!
