The deluded dreams of billionaires aside, there is no Planet B. With our bottomless appetite for unchecked and unequal economic growth, humanity has become a weapon of mass extinction. …We are treating nature like a toilet”. These were the sentiments proclaimed by United Nations’ (UN) Secretary-General, Mr. António Guterres, when he spoke at the UN’s Biodiversity Conference — COP15 in Montreal in December 2022 in the context of the UN’s Sustainable Development Goal #15, “Life on Land”.
Habitat is the lynchpin of wildlife conservation. Its destruction is a major threat to the survival of the plant and animal kingdom. One of the environmental justice missions at the First Unitarian Church of Hamilton is creating habitat for wildlife through Carolinian gardening. Flora and fauna can not raise their young when their ecosystems are destroyed. Every minute the human species is relentlessly grabbing their food and ripping down their fragile homes without even knocking on their door. How can we protect these vulnerable communities of animals and plants? Like us, native wildlife must have eco-friendly buffets where they can find proper food for their “special diets” and havens that can safely shelter them and their young against the storms of life.
Over the past ten years, the church’s gardening group has restored a hectare of church property, including a parking lot. With much toil and perseverance, they created an inviting and inclusive habitat for native plants and animals. Given the gardeners’ ages I could envision them humming Joni Mitchell’s 1970’s environmental activism song “Big Yellow Taxi”. The nostalgic lyrics are a cautionary tale “They paved paradise, put up a parking lot. They took all the trees and put ’em in a tree museum. Hey farmer, farmer, put away that DDT now. Give me spots on my apples, but leave me the birds and the bees, please. You don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone”.
One longtime gardening team member, Nancy, recollects how when she joined the group in 2011, “We just went around the grounds cleaning up lots of garbage .” They reached out to their local city ward councilor, who requested Canadian Pacific Railway “remove tons of refuse from around the railway tracks,” And “then we started to dig out invasive plants, miles of English ivy, bushels of tree of heaven roots, and a hundred Japanese knotweed shoots .”Another longtime gardener, Trinette, points out that the church is a former hardware store located on a large irregular lot; two sides of the garden fall into a valley through which some of the railway tracks run. Referring to the garden’s unusual haphazard formation Nancy once described feeling “like she was in Noah’s Ark”. Standing in the bow of the ark, looking southward towards the diagonally intersecting railway tracks, one can easily imagine the distant horizon signifying the ebb and flow of time and feel its waves rocking the vessel. Trinette recounts “When I began to work on the garden, I was struck by the lack of life. There were no insects, birds, or even squirrels. My own garden, which is across from the same railway track, in the centre of the city, had lots of insects, birds, squirrels, and raccoons”. Trinette remembers how the site was overgrown with “Queen Anne” Lace, ivy, periwinkle, orange day lilies not to mention Trees of Heaven. There were some native plants as well, such as goldenrod and grape vines. We were fortunate that the site had many trees and shrubs”. Trinette punctuated her final thought, “We began by weeding.”
Nancy recalls how the gardening team was uncertain about what should replace the invasive plants “Then, along came Joanne with plans to create a Carolinian pollinator garden that would feed local birds and wildlife and could survive increasing drought conditions. “Joanne reportedly ‘found accomplices in the congregation’ to apply for environmental grants. The World Wildlife Fund-Canada was one of the generous supporters. Joanne reminisces that when she, and her husband, Allan, joined the gardening team over a decade ago, “planting came as donations from the congregation to fill up the spaces. A few were native, but the majority were introduced or invasive plants”. Nancy added that Allan brought the team “a huge lift because of the amount of heavy work he could accomplish quickly…and their dog brought companionship” and an emotional lift.
The gardening team planted hundreds of native Carolinian zone perennials and trees, introduced rocks and other non-living elements (abiotics), shored up eroding areas, and built a rain-drain garden. Dr. Doug Tallamy, a renowned entomologist and native gardening advocate, emphasizes the importance of including native keystone species, such as pollinator plants, in the wildlife garden because these species hold together the complex web of relationships in an ecosystem. One could say that Joanne, the gardening committee team leader, is the keystone species that glues, sews, and weaves the small gardening community together. As another longtime gardener, Susan, recounts, “Joanne’s enthusiasm for native and Carolinian plants has infected our whole team… We attended a series of talks given by Joanne and became more aware of native species and pollinator plants”. Subsequently, the team planted various pollinator plants, including native sunflowers, milkweed, black-eyed Susans, coneflowers, and goldenrod. These prolific pollen providers generously feed over 100 insect species and 50 varieties of bees. Also in the garden is an oak tree, indigenous to southern Ontario. It is one of the best keystone plants because its mighty arms can hold the whole ecosystem together. The oak lovingly provides its cooling shade as protective shelter and dutifully accommodates native species’ “special diets” with biochemically available food. Its deep roots protect the soil from erosion.
At the UN’s Biodiversity Conference, Mr. António Guterres implored his audience-us- to remember that nature is our “best friend” and life-support system “Without nature, we have nothing. Without nature, we are nothing”. And yet “humanity seems hellbent on destruction. We are waging war on nature”. We are precariously situated at a critical juncture in preventing the loss of biodiversity and the extinction of species on our planet. The UN report indicates that one million animal and plant species are now threatened with extinction, many within decades. Conservationist Aldo Leopo points out that “conservation is getting nowhere because it is incompatible with our Abrahamic concept of land. We abuse land because we regard it as a commodity belonging to us. When we see land as a community to which we belong, we may begin to use it with love and respect”.
What is the main driver of nature loss? Unsustainable consumption and production. Multinational corporations are “filling their bank accounts while emptying our world of its natural gifts” and making ecosystems “playthings of profit,” Mr. Guterres explained to his listeners. We are bombarded by an endless artificial creation of demand for commodities we don’t really “need”. Mr. Guterres advised his audience to repair the world and “forge a peace pact with nature” as well as follow plans that recognize and protect the rights of Indigenous Peoples, “who have always been the most effective guardians of biodiversity.” The Seventh Generation Principle, based on ancient Haudenosaunee (Iroquois) philosophy, advises that our decisions today should result in a sustainable world seven generations into the future. The consumerist, capitalist Western way of life does not align with this respectful generational and relational framework. Like the lyrics in Joni Mitchell’s 1969 Woodstock “We are stardust, we are golden, we are caught in the devil’s bargain”. Mr. Guterres urged “Step up for nature. Step up for biodiversity. Step up for humanity” How do we heed Mr. Guterres calls for action?
One of the underlying principles of the Indigenous Peoples’ worldview is that the world is a gift, and humans have a responsibility to reciprocate. Understanding this connection contextualizes the difference between looking at the Land as a commodity to which we have rights versus experiencing a relationship that involves moral responsibilities and obligations. It is the difference between hungrily viewing natural resources as objects of consumption, with an appetite for extraction, versus nurturing a kinship relationship with love’s inherent desire to respect and protect the land as a subject. The following unsolicited interaction reflects this protective relationship. Last week newcomer gardener Sue P. emailed photos of newly blossomed snowdrops and winter aconite to all the garden group members accompanied by the headline “How does OUR garden grow”? “I popped into our garden in passing the church this morning doing errands. Amongst the garbage that has accumulated over the winter, I found these little gems to cheer us all up. Enjoy! Love, Sue. Also, as I heard so many birds there, I cracked open the ice on the pond so they could have a drink too !!” The empathy for the birds’ plight and the desire to respond shines clearly through her gesture. “
How can we “step up” for nature and biodiversity? Mitchell’s song reminds us that “we are stardust, we are golden. We are billion-year-old carbon”. Native plants’ symbiotic relationship with native wildlife, a marriage that has lasted for over a million years, can perhaps shed some light on our collective befuddlement. “Symbiotic” means a “mutually beneficial interaction”. In her book “Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants” Indigenous author Dr. Robin Wall Kimmerer explains that the well-being of the land is inextricably linked to the well-being of the community and the individual. Reciprocity is critical in contemplating our relationship with the living world. Dr. Kimmerer advises that we view land as our teacher and take from the land only what we need, use it well, and demonstrate gratitude. She points out that our relationship with the land is broken, “restoring land without restoring a relationship is an empty exercise.” Dr. Kimmerer refers to the process as “reciprocal restoration”. The active verb “reciprocate” means “responding” or “paying back what one has received.” In restoring the land, we are restoring ourselves. How can we engage in this interdependent process?
Listening to the Indigenous land acknowledgment at the First Unitarian church pulpit every Sunday, we are reminded that we are uninvited guests living on land loaned to us by the “most effective guardians of nature”. How can we respond? As Dr. Kimmerer reminds us, “restoring land without restoring a relationship is an empty exercise.” Given Canada’s commitment to building a relationship of reconciliation with Indigenous Peoples, as well as the UU’s newly ratified 8th principle, a structure of accountability to historically marginalized groups, it behooves us to discuss the value of making our supply chain socially and economically transformative. Our gardening committee has very recently discussed the option of purchasing our native plants from an Indigenous plant and seed social enterprise because “restoring land without restoring a relationship is an empty exercise. “Kayanase Restoring Mother Earth” is an employment training greenhouse located in Oshweken, a local Indigenous community within the Six Nations of the Grand River. Kayanase is committed to “increasing the number of employable in Oshweken”. It is through a relationship that we can learn “from the other” rather than “about the other”. This opportunity for transformational change is “priceless.” Social change occurs through the vehicle of relationships. We have an opportunity to become change agents.
We are not “just” members of a gardening group or a social club. We are individuals of diverse theological perspectives who have chosen to walk together on a journey of meaning-making. Our gardening community is in a covenantal relationship whose purpose is to “grow” in relation to others and the Earth. We feel compelled to positively impact our environment. Our mission includes inspiring the community toward positive change. Joanne states, “Through extensive education and leading by example, our Carolinian Wildlife Habitat gardens are now recognized for their leadership in protecting habitats.” Susan adds, “We have seen the benefit of this work with increased wildlife and butterflies as well as local interest from other gardeners. We have people stopping by while we garden and compliment our work or ask questions which we now feel qualified to answer…and as all good gardeners know, it is still a work in progress”.
As a refrain to Joni Mitchell’s lyrics, “You don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone,” we can say, “We do know “what we’ve got.” We witness increasingly more native birds, bees, caterpillars, butterflies and other Carolinian species visiting our habitat each year. The presence of butterflies signals a healthy environment. We have seen an abundance of butterflies, including the “endangered” Monarchs, who are considered “canaries in the coal mine” due to their extreme sensitivity to habitat and climate change. Sadly, Monarch butterfly populations in North America have decreased significantly over the past few years. Their habitats have been destroyed by agriculture, fire, logging, and forest thinning. Monarchs are very particular. These “picky” butterflies will only lay their eggs on milkweed native to the environment, and their emerging caterpillar babies will only eat native milkweed. We have native asters and goldenrods that bloom in the fall to “spoon-feed” nectar to the Monarchs. The sugar energy will sustain them on their arduous 4000 km migration journey to Mexico. We hope to see some of their relatives return in the spring.
Even flying squirrels and owls have been seen in the garden since its transformation. There is much gratification in experiencing these new developments. Last spring, I was mesmerized by the zig-zagging mating movements of two Eastern milk snakes. Another gardening member, Ian, came unexpectedly upon a colony of solitary bees. “This caused a great deal of excitement as they were darting about, their iridescent green backs shining in the sun.” A biodiverse ecosystem is a web of reciprocal relationships. Our ineffable and awe-filled cries of joy in response to these unexpected flora and fauna sightings reflect these exchanges involving mutual benefit and represent the intrinsic and extrinsic reward we derive from our interdependent Earth stewarding efforts. Trinette points out that members of the neighbourhood walk and sit in our garden and “visitors approach the gardeners while they are working expressing their love for the gardens; taxi drivers and police officers stop by from time to time”. Mutually beneficial exchanges are activated at diverse intersections on this multi-dimensional grid of reciprocal relationships.
Our wildlife habitat is a microcosm of the community, a complete ecosystem where plants, wildlife, and the human species live interdependently. Sue P. explained that since working in the group she has learned “how we are all connected, not just with each other, but with the wildlife that depends on us to sustain their habitat. My sense of community now includes the natural world.” She adds that, like WWF, “It is also my vision to create a world where people and nature thrive.” Sue P. lovingly applied her artistic painting talents to the garden’s many birdhouses. The birds were not the only species to be accommodated. Nancy pointed out that the local city councillor arranged for a park bench to be located beside the garden bed along Dundurn Street as “There is a lot of foot traffic there, and we wanted a place for weary pedestrians to rest on their way home.”
Another gardener, Gabrielle, stated, “As a newcomer, I loved seeing how we, the gardeners, mirrored the gardens: each with our own strengths, commitment, expertise or beginner’s mind; some of us more forward and others shyer, each of us finding or making our place in the scheme of things and coming together. We were “re-naturing” ourselves and supporting each other, humans and garden alike.” Restoration offers the human species a chance to give back to the Earth and reverse the landslide of ecological destruction. Unwittingly, in the process of restoration, we restore ourselves.
When I joined the gardening team in April 2020, Joanne showed me how to dig, weed, mulch, and plant. As I was being educated, I was unwittingly indoctrinated. I learned experientially that as we garden, we cultivate an attitude of caring and “repairing” rather than consuming. Because I had put in the work of caring, weeding, fertilizing, and planting, I became part of a charmed circle of stewards for the Earth. I distinctly remember hearing Joanne telling me, “Now, Rita, you are a friend of Mother Nature.” It dawned on me that Joanne’s anecdotal explanations about the trees, flowers, bees, caterpillars, and the interconnectedness of things while we were working provided meaningful context to what we were doing. Joanne was adeptly identifying my personal role in this “interconnected web of existence”-the 7th Unitarian Universalist principle reiterated on one of the garden’s many signs. Carolinian gardening transformed my relationship with Mother Nature. In September 2020, I started my own Carolinian garden by planting nannyberry, bluestem grasses, wild ginger, great blue lobelia, and boneset from Kayanase Restoring Mother Earth in Oshweken.
Another newcomer, Leah, points out that “community gardens change attitudes and behaviours. At the grassroots level, people learn it is possible that they, too, can take action that bolsters positive climate change”. Lorenz’s “butterfly effect,” based on chaos theory, suggests that a slight change in the initial condition of a complex interconnected system can significantly influence its trajectory. A butterfly’s wing flapping can create a small change in initial atmospheric conditions. This tiny action has the potential to alter the trajectory of a typhoon. Given this premise, can our work in the garden activate a multiplying “butterfly effect” to change the world? Who knows? “The deluded dreams of billionaires aside, there is no Planet B…We treat nature like a toilet”. Are we, in some very small way, heeding Mr. Guterres’ calls for action? Is our garden, a small action, like the flapping of a butterfly’s wing, stepping up for nature and biodiversity? Given that the only constant in life is change, the only certainty for me is that we are stepping in the right direction. As part of the invasive human species, I am not very optimistic, but like social critic Cornell West said, “I am a prisoner of hope.” “We are stardust, we are golden, we are caught in the devil’s bargain and we’ve got to get ourselves back to the garden.”