Rebirding by Benedict MacDonald
Anyone who I’ve met up with in the last two months has probably heard me rabbit on about ‘Rebirding’ by Benedict MacDonald. Either that, or you’ve been subjected to a demonstration of the ‘Merlin – Bird ID’ app.
Or both. 🤦🏻♀️
If you haven’t, then it was probably the first time we’d met and I was on best behaviour. 😉
I 💚 this book.
I can’t hope to cover its entire contents here but suffice to say that I am in complete agreement with Stephen Moss, who states in the Introduction:
What I really love about this book is that it doesn’t just go over the same tired and familiar issues. Instead, it offers a revolutionary new approach. This not only could work, but needs to succeed, if we are to stop fiddling at the margins and do something that actually restores Britain’s birds and wildlife to their rightful place at the centre of our nation, culture and society.
Benedict starts by setting the scene back in the days where megafauna dominated. In our modern, manicured landscape it is difficult to imagine woolly mammoths and rhinos blundering about, uprooting trees and creating huge mud scrapes. But we know they did.
His descriptions have helped me see the craters made by our bulls - when they paw at the earth in a fit of testosterone - in a completely different light. They are not making a mess and destroying grass. They are in fact being mini-mammoth landscape architects. That hollow they’ve scraped will become a little pond when it rains, and there are plenty of birds and insects around that will appreciate that.
When ecologists consider how the UK looked thousands of years ago, the interaction between plants and animals can be downplayed or missed. Our ancient landscape is often described as being a closed canopied forest, but this implies the absence of animals.
In a system where animals and plants evolved together there is dynamism, and mixture of grass, scrub and trees: a mosaic landscape.
Without animals doing their thing, grassland becomes covered in thorny scrub - think hawthorn, blackthorn and brambles - which provides a safe nursery for saplings. These saplings then grow into tall trees, shading out the plants beneath and creating densely packed woodland. The closed canopy mentioned above.
However
As Benedict writes, ‘Britain’s trees did not grow uncontested’.
Nature is all about balance.
Cows graze pasture. They use their long, mobile tongues to carefully navigate thorny scrub. They enjoy munching on trees, young and old. Some saplings survive and thrive, some don’t.
Our cows enjoying a munch on their favourite beech tree.
Cows use branches as scratch posts. Some of these will fall over or snap off. These actions effectively coppice the trees, which encourages more vigourous growth.
In other areas, cows may eat or scratch away at that bark. Again, some trees survive and thrive, some don’t.
The trees that fall make space for sunlight … and the cycle begins again: grass; scrub; trees; grass; scrub; trees.
And it’s not just cows, of course. There are boar and beavers, deer and horses, lynx and wolves. All of these creatures, and many more, added energy and a bit of chaos into the system.
Nothing was static. Everything was shifting.
But overall a dynamic equilibrium was maintained. A mosaic, savannah style, landscape was the result. We’d most likely call this woodland pasture, or silvopasture, in the UK. Grassland dotted with trees; some standing alone, others in groves.
The pollen record supports this mosaic landscape hypothesis. As do the eating and breeding habits of our native bird and insect species. This is the landscape in which our ancient sun loving oak trees flourished.
There are still many birds surviving the UK but not all that many are thriving. Benedict talks about how we can make the landscape more bird-friendly by leaving a bit of mess and untidiness. It is in that scruffiness – the edges and hedges - that magic happens.
Inspired by this book I downloaded the ‘Merlin – Bird ID’ app (💚 Shazam for birdsong 💚) and was delighted to discover that many of the birds that he mentions are present here. I’ve identified Spotted Flycatchers, Willow Warblers, Linnets and Grasshopper Warblers amongst the finches, skylarks and buzzards, and we are keen to encourage more.
Benedict discusses how populations of birds, even if numerous, are at risk if there are no other suitable habitats nearby. Connected habitats allow nesting birds options should a particular area become affected by fire, flood, predators etc.
Options breed resilience.
Connecting habitats is something that are looking at on our farm.
Benedict also has a lot to say about National Parks. I know very little about these, but he is full of suggestions which seem to make sense.
Less tidiness. Fewer targets. Let nature take the lead. And in doing so create more jobs through tourism than are supported on the land currently.
I hadn’t realised that the Cairngorns are half the size of Yellowstone National Park in the US, but while that supports 4,000 bison, 30,000 elk, 500 brown bears, 250 black bears and 95 wolves, the Cairngorns supports a few wild deer … Am sure we can do better.
Writing this whistlestop summary has just reminded me how much there is to the book - and most of it absent from this blog.
It’s amazing.
I need to read it again, immediately! (And dare I suggest, so should you!? 🙃)
Heather x