We tend to view our gardens as discrete entities; believing that the consequences of the management of our properties are contained within our fences and that what goes on beyond does not affect us.
We tend to view our gardens as discrete entities; believing that the consequences of the management of our properties are contained within our fences and that what goes on beyond does not affect us.
But we need to wake up and smell the neighbours’ roses, because fences mean nothing to the seeds, scents, sounds and, ultimately, sex of plants and animals.
The entire town is ecologically connected and affects the natural areas beyond its borders.
As monarchs of our gardens, our management decisions and gardening practices together determine the state of the greater urban ecosystem.
We have the power to promote biodiversity in this ecosystem and the responsibility not to harm it. All it takes is informed decisions and a change in habits and aesthetic values.
‘Neat’ and ‘nature’ don’t go together.
Gardens of shaven lawn and right-angled hedges are barren and hostile.
So often this constant neatening is at the expense of flowers and fruit – reproduction and resources.
A lawn is a food desert, a terrifying dash, a place to move on from for tiny creatures. By mowing just a little less often we provide food: daisies bloom and grass sets seed.
Expanses of lawn broken by bushes or trees, or overgrown areas, become available habitat or a safe transport route for small travellers.
By shifting perceptions and habits, we allow our gardens to provide food, lodging and romance; we provide an opportunity for existence.
Unfortunately, current perceptions and aesthetic values often can’t come to grips with the botanical xenophobia surrounding invasive aliens.
After all, Lantana is pretty and birds love bugweed fruit. Where’s the harm? But there is. Negative effects vary from species to species, but overall the name ‘invasive’ is no accident.
One of the reasons these species are so successful is their reproductive superpowers.
Typically, they effortlessly produce stacks of long-lived seeds with remarkable dispersal abilities.
They are far from contained within our fences, for they use transport slaves like wind and birds to spread seeds all over town, which can keep germinating for years. It really is your ecological (and, the case of certain species, legal) obligation to urgently deal with them.
Often they are depriving indigenous species of the pollinating and dispersal services of their animal partners.
By replacing them with local plants producing similar fruits or flowers we continue to provide food, whilst contributing to an indigenous urban ecosystem. Be conscious of your contribution. If your neighbour co-operates then we’re really getting somewhere.
Consider that you can plant the host shrub for a grub that will burst into a beautiful, brazen butterfly. He might flit over the fence following a floral fragrance – the promise of nectar -, and fly further for more.
Along the way he’s facilitated a whole lot of green love-making and may have even fiercely flirted with a few females.
Their babies might just find themselves hatching back in your garden.
This may sound like a children’s story but intricate narratives exist in nature. As garden monarchs, it’s our joint responsibility to make it a happy story.
