Let the flowers grow

An ode to wild spaces in cities, inspired by a recent trip to London.

Wild and overgrown edges at Hackney Marshes.

In the late morning, after we are fed and all talked-out, we make our way to Hackney Marshes. The oval feels like any other exercise area where you could throw a ball or run without hindrance, except that something uncontainable hovers at the edges. The neat cut grass is held in a thick nest of blackberry branches and unruly wildflowers. 

It’s the bright gold of the common ragwort that first calls to me across the expanse of mown grass. Once I am close up looking at it, I notice all the other flowers blooming here. Poppies and cornflowers, soft field scabious and lacy yarrow. The grass has been mown up to a point, and beyond that, things are left alone to run wild. 

It’s a chaotic intermingling of colours and textures, movement and sounds. 

Yesterday and the day before, we walked in other parks and found the same thing: large swathes of space given over to wildflowers, and grasses left alone to grow into their full potential. There were pathways mown through the dense wild patches so people could wade through, if, like me, they prefer a wild path to a concrete one. 

This meadowing of parks is a deliberate strategy by the Hackney Council to increase biodiversity and restore wildlife habitat in this part of London. Under their Local Nature Recovery Plan, the council are leaving patches of grass in their parks and roadsides to grow. In other sections they are deliberately sowing wildflowers to create pollen-rich meadows. 

Apart from the beauty of being surrounded by flowers (which should never be underestimated), you can see the benefit to biodiversity immediately when you approach one of these unshaven clumps of wildflowers. There is so much movement, and the busy sounds of insects at work. 

Wildflower meadows at Hackney Marshes.

Who lives in a city?

We tend to think of cities as dense, built-up human environments, which is certainly one way of telling the story. But cities are also home to so much non-human life: to a vast web of interconnected living and non-living beings. While we are busy zooming from one appointment to the next, the birds, the moths, the lizards, the scurrying mice, the smallest of beetles, the undetectable microorganisms, are all carrying on with their business too. 

As we continue our walk around Hackney Marshes, we notice a wire cage with masses of decaying wood inside. A little sign hangs from the front: habitat in progress. Not far from here we come across a large sculpture of wood, dotted with holes the perfect size for solitary bees. 

These purpose-built wildlife habitats, as I later learned, were implemented as part of the North Marsh Habitat Project, led by local ecologist Russel Miller. In addition to the bee hotels and loggeries (which provide habitat for fungi, beetles, wood mice, voles, shrews and hedgehogs), the project involved creating wetland areas and low-fertility areas for wildflowers to grow. 

The team also varied the topography in places to create slopes that receive more sunlight, and areas that are better shaded, damper areas and dryer areas. A monotonous landscape favours particular species, but a varied landscape celebrates biodiversity, inviting a diverse range of living things to find a place where they thrive.

Wildflower meadows at Hackney Downs.

It’s about fair share.

When Russel Miller speaks about the North Marshes Habitat Project, he emphasises that the design does not interrupt the way humans experience the local area. The grass that’s used to play sports and exercise dogs hasn’t been touched, and the sweeping vistas you get when you step on the marshes haven’t been interrupted. In other words, creating habitat for non-human species doesn’t have to be in competition with human needs and interests.

It is about fair share. When we make habitat and infrastructure for ourselves, we must also preserve or create it for other life. This is not merely a kindness we bestow on non-human species, but a very real need for our own wellbeing. When we dominate an environment without leaving food or habitat for others, we harm ourselves. 

If we can situate ourselves inside the web of life, rather than outside of it, we see that our flourishing depends on the flourishing of all that we are connected to. 

Biodiversity is what feeds us, keeps us alive and allows us to take what we need from the earth. It’s not a concept we should confine to rural areas. We need biodiversity in the cities. We need wildness living alongside our organised human activities.

Urban biodiversity matters more than we have been led to believe. Scientists are starting to test and affirm that living in an environment that’s biodiverse is better for humans, but I think we know this instinctively already. The spaces we feel most calm and happy in are biodiverse spaces, full of different plant, animal and fungi species, dripping with colour, birdsong and fresh air. 

Buzzing with life, wildflower meadow at Hackney Downs.

How do we invite wildness into our everyday spaces?

Another project in this area of London is the Hackney BuzzLine, which aims to create a corridor of food for bees, butterflies and other pollinators through the borough. In city-scapes where concrete and tarmac tend to dominate, wildlife corridors are vital for the survival of non-human species. 

Corridors bridge the gap between habitat areas, making it easier for wildlife to move freely, access shelter and food sources and maintain genetic diversity in their populations. 

The Hackney council is educating residents on how they can help contribute to the BuzzLine in the spaces that they own, and also the communal spaces that are close to home. Wildness shouldn’t be contained to parks and nature reserves, but permeate throughout the city wherever possible. Road verges and front yards, car parks and beside train tracks can all provide wildlife with what they need to survive. 

The spaces around us are ours to love.

It takes each of us to look at the spaces in our daily life with the eyes of possibility. If we want to access beautiful, ecologically rich areas where we are living—to walk through wildflowers on our way home, to hear birdsong in our streets—we must take responsibility for the spaces around us. We must see ourselves as connected to our environment, embrace the outdoor spaces near us as part of our understanding of home. We must allow wildness in the spaces that are ours to love.