The notion of virgin forest, untouched by man, is a myth.
This the conclusion I draw, inspecting my gone-wild back garden.
After just a few weeks’ neglect, vines, brambles and self-seeded sycamores are on the ascendancy.
Left three years and we’d have a jungle on our hands.
Remove the population of our town for twenty years and we’d have a great rewilding.
So ponder the fallen cities of the Amazon, obliterated by European colonisation five hundred years ago.
Of course it looks like virgin forest to our untrained eyes.
But that’s just the vigour of nature, reclaiming its place.
Just like in its assault of my back garden.
I must be conquistador of the weeds for an afternoon.
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Last modified: 22 September 2024
