Rewilding and Culture
Building a garden is a gentle act.
I am aware that the wording here, in current societal standards, is easily interpreted as insignificant or ineffective. Gentleness is a long forgotten value and is anything but ineffective. The way we navigate the world can certainly affect the atmosphere and ecology of our local environments and, in modern times, even the greater world. Our own influences on the environment around us are often themselves taught and mandated by the larger system we are a part of, consumer capitalism. This ideology at best carries an inherent wastefulness and at worse a blatant disregard for the future of human and natural ecosystems near and far. In this system we all make our way and yet many of the ways we are led by this ideology pull us farther from the more gentle nature to which we belong. Our natural resources and our human culture are eroding.
A simple walk outdoors can remind us of this in mere moments. The dictation of what a modern life looks like is upended and replaced when we make our way into the wild. In the study of the natural world we see that resources are often not hoarded by any one organism, they are often shared and reused and repurposed in ways that benefit the local ecosystem. Likewise, in our strongest human relationships there is consideration and care, a gentleness and reciprocity that creates trust and connection. One of my favorite quotes is from naturalist poet Gary Snyder and relays much of what I strive for in my work and everyday life: “To work for the wild is to restore culture”.
If we perform tasks in our lives that improve the natural world and the natural order, we are working “for the wild”. To write a poem or piece of prose with connection in mind, heals the way we use language and is restoring the “wild”. To plant a tree with the intention of creating a habitat for wildlife is working for the “wild”. To grow organic food and share with our neighbours, friends or family about the ways we prepare and make our meals is eating “wild”. To sit with each other and talk and eat and laugh over these slowly grown and prepared meals is to commune “wild”. The actions are gentle, subtle, unforced and yet they bring about in us a sincere humanity, this clarity of our innate, common culture is what heals.
To choose to make our homes a part of this “wild” world is a goal for me personally but also as a gardener and plant designer. A wild garden is by nature environmentally low-impact and culturally restorative. Choices that reduce waste lower and offset carbon emissions, use of local materials supports businesses and families and therefore the regional economic ecosystem, planting with great design and care saves water from overwhelming the city pipes by diverting water from sewers back into our soil, and cohesive habitats are established for birds, insects, and other animals that are often considered pests. On a deeper level, striving to make decisions that honor the natural systems developed by and then taken from the First Nations People in this region hopefully highlights their continued cultural significance.
To enjoy these outdoor gathering spaces we call our gardens in some ways frees us of the unnatural orders set by modern systems.
Nature, soil, community and wildlife abound.
