Rewilding your backyard
Rewilding is going mainstream, but it’s not just for big properties. Renee Davies looks at the various ways you can incorporate the ideals into your own home garden.
Renee Davies has the big ideas; even for a small garden.
AThe principles of rewilding have become relevant to a range of scales where it is about thinking long-term, and leaving space and time for nature to take the lead.
trip to the ancient Gondwana forests of Stewart Island was a reminder to me of the scale of what has been lost from our mainland landscapes. With human habitation and introduced pests both past and present being relatively low, 85 per cent of the island is swathed in dense forest teeming with birdlife. The vibrant sounds that resonate through this ancient landscape are breathtaking. In stark contrast, there is a deathly silence on my treks through bush remnants at home.
Restoring the dawn chorus
Rewilding is a concept that is gaining momentum worldwide. It focuses on large scale regeneration of natural plant communities and the reintroduction of native animals to naturally managed landscapes.
In Europe, it’s often about returning mammals that would have once been present, back into an environment. In New Zealand, reflective of our uniqueness in the world, it’s about getting rid of the pest mammals in order for our bird and insect fauna to thrive once again; sanctuaries such as Zealandia and Maungatautari showcase the possibilities.
The principles of rewilding have become relevant to a range of scales where it is about thinking long-term, and leaving space and time for nature to take the lead. As Raquel Filgueiras, head of Rewilding Europe says, “Through rewilding, wildlife’s natural rhythms create wilder, more biodiverse habitats. It’s about trusting the forces of nature.”
The concept translates well to Aotearoa where the deterioration of our indigenous biodiversity is of ongoing concern. We have 2500 native species of conifers, flowering plants and ferns, and 80 per cent are endemic, or only found here.
Our forests are among the most ancient and unique in the world, and have evolved over millions of years. Many of our birds, animals, fish, insects and fungi are also endemic. Our dire placement in the world biodiversity hierarchy confirms that any and every opportunity for rewilding should be taken.
Maori¯ perspective
Rewilding is a concept that complements the Maori¯ worldview. Sera Gibson, environmental policy advisor for Te Kotahitanga o Te Atiawa Trust says, “Maori¯ believe that we have a common origin with plants. We see plants as having senior status. Tane¯ created them before mankind, and they were therefore respected as older relatives. They are the link between us and our ancestors, Papatu¯¯anuku and Ranginui. We connect with the environment both spiritually and physically.”
Sera is supporting local hapu¯ Ng¯ati Tawhirikura on the first phase of a rewilding project, Ka whakaaraara te tangata, ka whakaora te wai, ka whakahoki te taonga. “The project recognises the whakapapa or interconnection between tangata whenua and Papatu¯¯anuku, and focuses on revitalising and restoring
the natural habitats of taonga species along the Waiwhakaiho river in New Plymouth to encourage mahinga kai rehabilitation and enhancement,” she says. It’s just one of the rewilding initiatives that tangata whenua across the country are leading with transformative outcomes.
Beginner’s guide to rewilding
The key advice from these and other projects is to target your efforts. Concentrate on eradication of the aggressively harmful weeds rather than ephemeral and relatively benign exotics. Other labour-saving tricks include cutting out exotic shrubs before they flower and seed, then leaving their dead, decaying bodies to shelter native seedlings.
There are some words of caution for not compromising your rewilding efforts. Firstly don’t plant cohorts of same-aged, same-sized species resulting in bland bush. It’s great to get that quick closure of the canopy, but it’s important too to allow for ground plants such as ferns, sedges and climbers. Think about where the seed for the shadetolerant forest species will come from. Good rewilding will come from ongoing efforts to enrich with a diversity of species.
Secondly, don’t ignore the soil. A plant raised in potting mix, for example, then planted into a dune, will likely limit its root growth to the potting mix, whereas the same plant raised in a mix of sand and compost will have developed roots that cope better with drought and low nutrient levels, and will probably grow better in the long run. If planting into limestone country, use species that cope with alkaline soils; if planting into clay or sandy soil, use small species with small leaves that will build up a leaf litter quickly. That leaf litter is the essential next step in soil development that makes difficult soils more attractive to larger species over time. Don’t miss this crucial topsoil-forming step.
My own recent journey into rewilding resulted from a combination of desperation and necessity. Faced with an apocalyptic and quite frankly
overwhelming mess of pine slash, taking a “nature knows best” approach has been a lifesaver.
My new ally is efficient, cheap and hands down beats any designer I know. But seeing the speed at which seedling m¯ahoe, kotukutuku,¯ mapou¯ and horoeka spring up through the debris, from nearby forest remnants, gives me hope for a full recovery to diverse forest habitat.
Rewilding pays off
The garden of Frank and Vicki Boffa in Waikanae is a stunning collaboration with nature that offers inspiration to those embracing this approach. The couple have spent 25 years transforming a boggy, blackberry-infested paddock with a degraded forest remnant into a pest-free forest supporting both them and a diversity of wildlife.
A created pond wraps around islands of treasured pukatea, enhancing the property’s swamp forest heritage. The waters of the pond now reflect the arching branches of kohekohe, karaka and tawa, with pathways that weave through both naturally regenerating and enriched underplantings. “Several times a day I’ll take a walk around the pond,” says Frank.
“It’s a relaxing and contemplative space, and there is nothing better as the sun goes down than relaxing on the deck enjoying the native birds as they fly by, or stop off on transit between Kapiti Island and the Tararua Ranges.”
Of course, the challenge with rewilding in New Zealand, compared with other countries, is our prolific array of animal and plant pests. The animals literally nibble away at the fragile edges of our native landscapes. Rewilding recognises the need to give an occasional helping hand.
Human damage to habitats can leave us no choice but to get involved and set things “back on track”. But then, once the right conditions have been created, we need to take a step back and let nature do what she does best. In New Zealand, that means planting where there is no immediate seed source, trapping animal pests, and control and removal of invasive plant species that might otherwise compromise natural regeneration.
I have to admit, it took some time to get used to the idea of letting things go; I like a bit of order in my garden. But I’m not alone. Isobel Gabites, author of both The
Native Garden and The Coastal Garden design books, and an energetic champion of rewilding, admits she too has struggled. “The antithesis to a wildlife haven is a tidy garden. I am still coming to terms with the need to let dead leaves accumulate and flowers go to seed if we want to truly help native insects thrive in our gardens.
“Cool, dank microclimates with decaying organic material will host far more native worms, beetles, slugs, caterpillars and w¯et¯a than your average lawn,” says Isobel.
This sentiment is echoed by British biologist Dave Goulson, a fan of smallscale backyard rewilding. Dave relishes the contribution gardening can have in saving the planet. “Ugly or beautiful, it is the little creatures that make the world go round,” he says. “We should celebrate and appreciate them in all their wonderful diversity.”
A helpful antidote to this dilemma is offered by landscape architect Joan Nassauer. Her research recognises the desire for us to see that landscapes are cared for. The idea of providing “cues for care” helps in making wilder, messy and ecologically rich areas in gardens and cities more acceptable. It can be as simple as a bird nesting box on a fence post, or a mown strip of grass at the edge of a meadow. These small interventions show an area has not been forgotten or neglected. These techniques can also be useful when taking a wilder approach to our own gardens.
The 1980s saw a wave of gardeners welcoming wildlife into their backyards. This pioneering approach was largely guided by my mentor, Chris Baines, landscape architect and author of How to Make a Wildlife
Garden. He focuses on small scale changes in management of gardens to let nature “do its thing”. Leaving grass to grow long, creating
depressions for wetlands or ponds and championing inclusion of native species. His commitment to the cause remains steadfast and the rewilding revolution looks to re-energise these concepts across a spectrum of scales.
For most of its advocates, rewilding is about reshaping our relationship with nature and how we look at restoration – an active process of selective intervention that maximises diversity and richness.
“If you’ve got a small space, everything has to punch above its weight,” says Chris. “It’s not about making your garden into a selfcontained native sanctuary. It’s about how it becomes a service station for anything passing by.”
In his view, rewilding on a small scale is about making a difference as part of a web of ecosystems. While it’s critical that we help nature recover on a large scale with projects like the transformative Hinewai Reserve in Akaroa ( NZ Gardener September 2019), taking action in smaller spaces, whether that’s a garden or a few acres, plays an important role in restoring the health of our land.
Isobel Gabites strongly believes in a garden’s contribution to ecosystem health. “I think of gardens as sanctuaries where the often disastrous interaction between humans and nature merges briefly into an intimate and constructive relationship in which both parties flourish. It’s a place where wildlife is encouraged and plants thrive, not just survive.”
Isobel encourages gardening with rare, endangered or hard-to-source native species, whether they be ferns, lilies, sedges, grasses, climbers, scramblers, herbs, shrubs or trees (and hopefully all of these). “You can’t be selfish with a garden,” says Isobel, “You have to share it with birds, lizards and wind – and they in turn will share the seeds and spores further afield. I am also a fan of gardening with species that are from the area (or at least the soil type), largely because I fantasise about my plants ‘taking wing’.”
Isobel highlights that gardeners who enjoy raising their own plants can also complement commercial nurseries who these days are simplifying their native inventories and concentrating on species that are cost-effective to raise (or are colourful floral cultivars rather than true species). The resulting increase in diversity is at the core of rewilding.
Rewilding, with its spectrum of action that is adaptable to different scales and sites, provides hope for a co-created future.
By giving nature some breathing space, and trusting in natural processes, I am now witnessing, in my own backyard, a beautiful transition from degradation to a young and diverse forest teeming with life. My role is to keep intruders at bay by tackling the brambles (with suitably thick gloves) and regularly checking pest traps. The melodious chime of korimako (bellbird) calling at dawn is testament to the power of taking a step back and going a bit wild.