Kansas City News Blog

On orders from the EPA, Kansas City must replace old sewer pipes and take other measures to keep rivers and streams from filling with unsafe levels of poop every time it rains. With a potential price tag of $3 billion, the city is looking for cheaper, greener solutions in an effort to reduce the amount of concrete needed to complete the project.

The rain barrel, ready for action.

Residents can do their part for clean water by installing rain barrels and planting rain gardens. Motivated initially by self-interest, I've become a nerd for the cause.

A spring rain storm got the project moving. One morning spent with a Shop-Vac convinced me that steps needed to be taken. Our property is shaped in such a way that water likes to show up at the door of our walk-out basement. So I bought a rain barrel from the Prairie & Wetland Center in Belton.

The barrel was easy to install, and I'm not at all handy. It holds 65 gallons. I use the water it collects to keep flowers healthy and to wash out the syrurpy gunk that builds up in the recycling bin.

But, for me, the barrel's greatest virtue its ability to hold back at least some rainwater headed for the back doorstep. Bridging the Gap is a good resource for more information on how to obtain, install and even decorate a rain barrel.

I also bought some plants to help soak up the water that turns the backyard into gruel during storms.

I didn't follow the instructions and dig a depression for my rain garden. I did the easy thing and just put in some native plants about 15 feet from the house, in a spot where rainwater liked to pool. I planted palm sedge, golden Alexander and wild bergamot purchased at Heartland Nursery in Lee's Summit. Total cost for five plants: about $30.

As the plants flourished, I found myself becoming a snob about native plants. I'd go to a garden store and cringe at the sight of species native to the Far East. My gardening skills weren't any more refined than when I'd started. I'd simply discovered plants that were both idiot-proof and functional.

Ambition and my hatred of mowing the grass led to the next project. I decided to kill a swath of turf and plant still more native plants.

The backyard, post-RoundUp, pre-ax wielding.

The spot in question sits under a giant sycamore tree and presses against the back fence, where all sorts of invasive plants, including poison ivy, had taken residence. Between the low-hanging sycamore limbs and the itch bushes (even the ones that weren't poisonous looked poisonous), I hated going back there. Pushing a mower through the stuff was hell.

I sprayed a herbicide, and eventually the turf grass I wanted to eliminate turned brown. I rationalized the damage to the environment by thinking of the time the mower would not poison the air tending to this patch. The larger invasive plants I removed by hand. (Using an ax: good workout for the glutes.)

The budget does not allow me to replace the dead turf with plants in containers. Instead, I ordered seeds from a company in Jefferson City, Missouri Wildflowers Nursery. The mix contains the seeds of more than two dozen plants with tantalizing names (foxglove beard tongue, rough blazing star). I sprinkled in some poverty grass, too.

By now, I had become somewhat obsessed with the idea of restoring a sliver of tall grass prairie. Waiting for the package from the nursery took me back to elementary school, when I sent away for Cheap Trick merchandise that never came.

The seeds finally arrived last month. The freezing and thawing of the ground this time of year is supposed to help work the seeds into the soil. Gratification will come slowly. Prairie plants spend the first year doing most of their work below ground. But at least I won't have to mow the formally godforsaken area.

My efforts' ultimate impact on the Blue River Watershed is, alas, minimal. The downspouts on our home empty on to the lawn, not directly into the sewer system. Also, the rain barrel really doesn't hold that much water. "We're going to need concrete for the foreseeable future," says Ward Wilson, an environmental engineer at Tetra Tech, a company working with the city on its overflow control plan.

However, it is pretty cool to think that the backyard will provide a deeper carbon sink than my neighbors'. And if I'm not a complete clod, it should look great, too.