A little over a month ago, I read about ‘rewilding’, a term used by one of our summer interns in a post titled, Rewilding the Los Angeles River. This discussion compelled me to explore the word further to ascertain other instances of where rewilding is occurring.
The dictionary defines rewilding as:
rewilding – verb
gerund or present participle: rewilding
restore (an area of land) to its natural uncultivated state (used especially with reference to the reintroduction of species of wild animal that have been driven out or exterminated).
This type of environmental effort strategized and executed by activists, non-profits, and even major international conservation organizations all seek to remove human interventions that prohibit natural ecosystems – ranging in regions from the Yukon, to Europe, to the grasslands of Africa – from establishing and existing. Nationally, rewilding efforts tend to focus on grader scales, like our National Parks and waterways, each with goals to remove infrastructure like roads and engineered water ways to encourage the redevelopment of natural systems.
The efforts of these “rewilders” are brilliant and necessary for the purpose of recovering our environment, but focus upon broad efforts executed on a macro scale. This made me wonder if there were other alternative and appropriate ways to weave this concept into the urban fabric on a more intimate level. While efforts to remove roads in National Parks may reopen natural ecosystems for larger fauna and flora to flourish, what if smaller installations popped up across city streets, onto walls, or even across rooftops? What if we could revitalize patches of native plant materials and smaller habitats on a more limited scale to help recreate habitat to give birds and pollinators respite where concrete and asphalt currently rules?
While such efforts would not encourage large mammals to work their way back into cities to cohabitate within our concrete and asphalt jungles, I do wonder what kinds of effects these interventions could provide smaller critters that share our urban cores. I believe these efforts would have a huge residual benefit for humans as well: offering respite on hot summer days, providing educational opportunities, resulting in a reduction of the heat island effect, and even create water improvement opportunities where storm water could be passively treated (e.g. the Zev Yaroslavsky L.A. River Greenway Trail).
At this moment the team at AHBE is exploring this idea of rewinding from a smaller context. Focusing on a single parking space, we’re imagining turning such an urban space into a micro ecosystem, and investigating what kind of observable metrics that unfold across such a small area. What kind of opportunities would this open up if two parking spaces on a block were dedicated to such micro ecosystem? What about three?
These interventions intentionally designed to rewild our urban landscape – as opposed to the sort of secondary effect that street trees or community gardens traditionally provide – could be an effective additional mechanism to weave environmentally impactful changes into future green streets and other eco-conscious development, all with the purpose of designing the cities of tomorrow with a healthier environment for all living creatures.