BACK TO NATURE

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXI, Issue 21763, 31 March 1934, Page 1 (Supplement)

BACK TO NATURE

BY HILDA KBANE

TRIUMPHS OF REGENERATION

AS you proceed 011 your daily journey to town do you notice the little clump of ferns 011 the lych-gate of the Symonds Street cemetery? And. as you near Queen Street, do you ever cast a glance at an old brick building that was once known as Crowther's stables? High up on its red wall is a festooning of graceful ferns. A heritage from past window boxes? Spores shed? Little seedlings ingratiating themselves among the porous brickwork? Or have the winds from far hills dropped a kindly benison upon the city street? There are other such pleasing surprises about the city; but how would you account for ferns that are growing in crevices about concrete wharf piles? Flotsam of the sea? The birds? Such tokens of forest life call to mind an old book, " After London," by Jeffries. Ancient woodland and marsh had reasserted itself, and had imposed upon the destruction of the ancient city the primeval vegetation that apparently never really dies. An interesting thought! Concrete streets, concrete buildings! The hardest expressions of man's craft! And a minute seed finds resting place, a frail leaf or two grows and is able, as you will know from your garden paths, ultimately to split asunder man's seeming permanence of effort. Which, then, is the stronger—man or Nature?

A perfect example of Nature reasserting herself after destruction is to be seen at llangitoto. Here is an island which may have been mainland; may have been a graciously fertile islet; may have been non-existent! An eruption occurs, lava is belched forth and there is a peak covered with acres of scoria rock. Quiescent again, the surface lies waiting for patient Nature to take up the tale and to clothe, hour by hour, using sea and wind, rain and sun, the barren slopes. A triumph of regeneration ! Fifty years ago occasional climbers and less frequent botanists essayed that rough walk to the summit, " wearing out a pair of boots." Very few of the casual climbers were aware that under those hard, jagged rocks, rocks that seemed inimical to any growth, silent Nature was steadily working a wonder, one of the most remarkable instances in the world of regeneration in all stages. A unique treasure house, and now never in lonely solitude; inaccessible 'to the unthinking picnicker and a paradise for the distinguished botanist. What an unusual combination ! A Natural RocK Garden Walking or driving up the smooth road, with its lovely • outlooks over a city, spread Venice-like among the shining waterways and with entrancing sea-pictures, you may notice the profusion of glossy griselinia, broad and thick of leaf, of koromiko, daintily flowering. Then you will wonder at the great expanses of rockfield with not a visible blade of green. Why have these stretches remained sterile? Trees are growing, apparently out of bare rock, in other places. Why not here? Perhaps, if you had walked here half a century ago, you would have seen less green-hillside and more barren scoria-fields. 1 nder those broken rocks are tiny springing plants, little lacy ferns, tiny tree seedlings, nurtured" by the harsh rock, fed by its disintegration. But for the shelter of this broken, splitting lava, you would not to-day gather dainty white berries, sprays of orchid. Little pools of rain, little heaps of debris lie hidden, waiting for the chance seed. The wind may do the rest. One day there will be no more fields of brown stone. On the lower slopes of the mountain, where shell paths make easy treading, anyone may see the splitting of rock surfaces and may read the absorbing tale of regeneration of native growth. There are all the early forms of vegetable life. Interesting lichens, mosses, ferns, orchids of several kinds, flourish in this natural rock-garden, protected by the larger tree-growth, incident to the greater depth of soil on lower levels. The botanist may revel here for days. A section of Aucklanders, happily a growing section, is awake to the rarity and compelling interest of our native flora. To them, as to distinguished visiting scientists, llangitoto is a perpetual delight. The Imported Intruder

But —why must there be these "huts" in our country?—the visitor, wandering about the quiet slopes, is aware of other life that is a serious menace. Wallabies and opossums find homes among the rocks and trees, and feed upon berries, stems and leafage. There is 110 question, in the mind of any observer who lives near native forest", of this destruction constantly going 011. Meantime the birds lessen — I heard 110 single note of bird the whole day that I was on Rangitoto—for these animals eat the natural food of the birds, and they persistently nibble off young, growing shoots. When one adds to this accusation that against the deer, which either swim or cross at low tide to Rangitoto from adjacent islands, and browse upon the foliage of trees, the wonder arises as to which will ultimately win, the brave regenerating forces of Nature or the destructive presence of their enemies.

It does seem to be a wanton carelessness, a sorry lack of appreciation, that we who have a singularly interesting flora should so lightly allow its destruction. Rangitoto, merely as a volcanic cone, perfect in shape and most accessible, is an island highly to be prized by Aucklanders. It is an instance, too, of improvements that have not spoiled. I refer to the excellent road and the pathing. But it is regrettable and somehow " out of the picture " to have absurd week-end cottages on its rocky sea-line; a volcano demands sterner stuff than bungalows. In any case the authorities should rigorously exclude ordinary garden plants, which have a habit of dispossessing the natives. Overseas scientists have stressed the point that here is a natural rock-garden, a marvellous exposition of all the wonders of regeneration in every stage. So rare a heritage is this that we should make valiant effort to safeguard it. We can have gardens of pretty flowers in our suburbs; Rangitoto is no place for them. Neither should it be a home for destructive animals. What it should be is sanctuary—sanctuary for the regeneration of our own typical native flora. Guardians A suggestion that may be worth considering bv the authorities who have such places under their jurisdiction is to co-operate with the Horticultural Society in such a manner that the latter may have power to destroy inimical botanical plants wherever they threaten the existence of the valuable native. Foxgloves such as I. saw at Rangitoto very near to a beautiful nest of kidney fern, are certain enemies; they will grow in the driest of soil, in any cranny. It is proved in our hill districts, that when paspalum comes in scented fern, native violet, lobelia, bluebell (we possess all these) go out. But remove the coarse intruder, plant the smallest piece of the aborigine, and with a little atiention it comes back amazingly to its own. Knowledgable information about all these plants is easily had. Let each of us, in our way, ask for it and once more create our own land.