My Kingdom My Rules
Rewilding on my own terms
One of the first things we are taught as nature lovers is that we should not interfere with nature. We should allow her to run her course without interference or passing judgment on some of the atrocities that she commits.
To me, that has always been a bit of a foolish argument. Having bent, twisted, and downright damaged most of the environment, often beyond repair, we now decide to abandon it and allow it to do its own thing.
It’s like walking away from a car wreck and suggesting that the mangled carcass of the vehicle should be allowed to rust to pieces by itself because that would be a natural process.
In my own micro environment, I interfere with nature all the time.
The birdseed I diligently lay out each day is probably imported, and the grated cheese I toss to the robin definitely doesn’t make up part of his natural diet.
Each year, the various societies for the protection of birds will come out with conflicting advice as to whether supplementing the birds’ natural diet in our gardens is a good thing or not.
The mere fact that the gardens themselves are not a natural part of the environment seems to have been overlooked. What is forgotten in their zealous desire to protect birds is that they would probably not inhabit the area if it were the original old-growth forest.
This debate has been extrapolated recently as the movement for rewilding gathers momentum. It is an argument that generates heated emotions on both sides of the spectrum.
On the one hand, you have people that want to re-introduce everything from beavers to buffaloes to patches of what was once their original habitat.
Again, you have those who seem to feel that having gone to all the effort of driving these creatures from this territory, it is now theirs. The original inhabitants should in no way be allowed a toe hold on even a small patch of their former domains.
You can probably guess from the way I phrased that, which side of the argument I stand on. Bring on the bears, the wolves, and the lynxes.
I have no control over which direction this debate will go in. All I can do is stand on the sidelines and cheer on the rewilders. In my garden, that tiny kingdom where I rule unchallenged and without apology, I interfere with nature constantly.
I plant flowers and trees where there would be none, I provide not one but two birdbaths, and, of course, I feed the birds. My birds.
One of the birds that have taken advantage of my royal generosity is the resident blackbird. At first, he scoffed at the idea of the cheesy diet so favored by the robin, but once he had sampled grated cheese once or twice, he quickly became a convert.
Now he has become so tame that if there isn’t cheese waiting for him upon his arrival, he stands by the window peering in at me contemptuously until I give in and serve him.
Even the blackbird is not immune to random rewilding decisions made by the king. Two days ago, one of my subjects, a small lizard, was sunbathing on the deck when the blackbird spied an opportunity. Not content with just a high dairy diet, he now decided to do the whole keto trip and up his protein intake.
One minute the lizard was lethargically sunning himself, and the next he was being attacked by a bird who had developed delusions of grandeur and started to see himself as a giant raptor.
The lizard wasn’t going down without a fight, and it leaped at the bird with its mouth wide open in a pathetic attempt to scare it off. Neither creature was ideally suited to its warrior role, and the pair scuttled around one another as though not quite sure what to do next. And then the king stepped in.
I had to shoo the bird away because he has become a little confused as to quite where he stands on the pecking order these days. I then picked up the terrified lizard and carried him over to the dry stone walling, where he could make a quick escape.
As soon as I was back inside, the black bird was down on that deck searching for his prey and peering between the gaps in the planks, trying to find where he was hiding.
I have no doubt that some of the purists reading this article will condemn me for interfering in that natural course of events. I should like to remind them that my garden is not a part of the natural world. It is a contrived environment ruled by a royal dictator who will determine rewilding as he sees fit.
Some will take issue with that. I suspect that my lizard will not be among them, and his approval is good enough for me.
Thank you for reading.
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