Time is Running Out Drew Love-Jones & Nicholas Fox.
The North Atlantic Salmon Allan Cuthbert
Riverine Integrity William Rawling
Reflections on the Summit to Sea Project Rebecca Wrigley
Landscape-scale Conservation of Butterflies and Moths Russel Hobson
Rewilding in the Context of the Conservation of Saproxylic Invertebrates Keith Alexander
Rewilding Bumblebees Dave Goulson
New House Hay Meadows Martin Davies
Pigs Breed Purple Emperors Isabella Tree
The Pontbren Project Wyn Williams
Lynbreck Croft Sandra & Lynn Cassells
South View Farm Sam & Sue Sykes
Rewilding in My Corner of Epping Forest Robin Harman
Prayer for Red Kites at Gleadless Martin Simpson
Species Introductions Matthew Ellis
Whiteford Primary Slack Nick Edwards
Rewilding at the Coast Phil Dyke
Rewilding Notes on Forest Gardens Mike Pope
The ‘Wilding’ of Gardens Marc Carlton & Nigel Lees
Vetch Community Garden Susan Bayliss
Rewilding: My Hedgehog Story Tracy Pierce
Rewilding Cities Scott Ferguson
Colliery Spoil Biodiversity Liam Olds
The Place of Rewilding in the Wider Context of Sustainability Richard Moles
Rewilding of the Heart Bruce Parry
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Colonising silver birch in glaciated valley, Alladale.
Following the end of the last Ice Age 10,000 years ago, Britain and Ireland began to colonise with birch and oak which, apart from mountain tops, became established in all of our islands. Rewilding, essentially a new concept, is the return to allowing nature to take its own course and carpet our islands once more in natural vegetation and its associated fauna. During the Mesolithic period (15,000–5,000 bce) this native forest was considerably modified by burning and felling. By the Middle Ages (500 ce onwards) the wildwood had been replaced by a mosaic of cultural landscapes, created by an ever-increasing population. The Enclosure Acts of the eighteenth century were swiftly followed by the Industrial Revolution, with its increasing demands on mineral and timber resources, and further modified our landscapes. Landscapes became empty of all of our major predators, such as wolves, and landscape modifiers such as the beaver. While our cultural landscapes contained wonderful chalk grassland grazed by huge flocks of sheep, numerous heathlands grazed by cattle and diminishing peat bogs harvested by crofters in the north and west, these landscapes were unrecognisable from their native state, much of their diversity and richness gradually stripped away. During the Industrial Revolution there was a rapid reduction in the number of people employed on the land and a consequent decline of rural communities. There were changes, too, affecting limestone pavements, peatbogs – a reduction of sheep farming led to the depletion of chalk grassland. The last time our islands possessed any degree of biological richness was the 1930s, a richness that disappeared swiftly during the 1940s when World War II interrupted food imports, leading to a massive increase in lands given over to arable crops.
By the 1960s only a handful of intensively managed nature reserves contained a fraction of our previous flora and fauna, often isolated islands in an extensive agricultural prairie, where food production was continually supported by pesticides and chemical fertilisers, further diminishing our wildlife – the future of peregrine falcons were threatened by the build-up of toxins in the food chain. In the US, scientists such as Rachel Carson began to draw the public’s attention to such concerns and the environmental movement was born. This has subsequently led to the evolution of the rewilding movement, which I would define as allowing the natural succession from open ground to forest to take place, much in the way it happened 10,000 years