Tag Archives: insects

Before We Had Brains 2 – Of Arthropods and Other Things.

Long before humans developed the brains they have today, a great many other animals had already evolved co-ordinated nerve centres completely effective in directing their everyday lives.

In ‘Before We Had Brains 1′, I considered what might have been our earliest vertebrate ancestor – probably a worm-like creature that lived in the sea; and before that we must have passed through a variety of preceding invertebrate stages – it’s been a long road. Almost as extraordinary is that while we were on the evolutionary march from comparative simplicity to our present complexity, many other animals hardly changed at all.

Butterfiles showed up on plante earth about 150 million years ago, about the same time as flowering plants began to enter the fossil record... well, that makes good sense.
Butterflies showed up on Earth around 150 million years ago – about the same time flowering plants began to enter the fossil record, and this is unlikely to be a co-incidence.

Once a species has adapted through the evolutionary process to an environment that remains fairly constant, there is no advantage to making further dramatic changes. What is certain is that while animals on our branch of the tree were evolving more complex nervous systems, many invertebrates were sticking with something quite different.

The model for a brain-like structure at the front end – common to all vertebrates – was laid down in invertebrates millions of years ago, but many also evolved multiple masses of ganglia to control body functions in a manner very much different from our own.

The well developed nerve ganglia at the head end is close to organs such as ears, eyes and antennae that have developed to receive incoming information. But other masses of nerve ganglia have also developed along the main nerve that runs the length of the body – additional mini-brains if you like – that co-ordinate different parts of the body. Sensory information is also picked up in ways that we would consider unusual – grasshoppers for example can hear through their knees and pollinating insects see patterns on flowers in the ultraviolet range. These are inputs that we have no direct experience of and in consequence sometimes find difficult to comprehend.

The sexton beetles makes a living burying small animals and lays eggs on th corpses it finds, but first it has to smell out the dead using chemorecpetors on the beetles specialist antennae which are well devloped.
The sexton beetles makes a successful living burying small dead animals; the females lay eggs on the corpses, but first these have to be smelt out by chemoreceptors on the beetles specialised antennae which are raised above their head ends to receive the necessary olfactory information – this is processed by a nerve ganglia at the head end, but other functions,such as mobility, may be controlled by nerve centres elsewhere along the body. 

The large and varied Phylum Arthropoda contains animals with external skeletons and segmented bodies with jointed limbs paired in keeping with their bilateral symmetry; they include the Arachnids (spiders and scorpions), Myriapods (centipedes and millipedes), Crustaceans (crabs, lobsters and woodlice) and last but not least – Insects; and all have a very different arrangement of their nervous systems than we do.

Arthropods have become extremely successful, forming a major part of life on Earth, and it is a surprise that we so often view them as aliens – the templates for creatures formed in our wildest imaginings; the sort of things that regularly crop up in our sci-fi stories, and usually portrayed as agressive invaders from another world.

Another trilobite. Extinct maybe, but this one just keeps cropping up in horror movies. The inspiration for 'orginality' of thought so often goes unmentioned.
Trilobites were once well represented in the world’s oceans, but all perished during a great mass extinction at the end of the Permian around 250 million years ago. These Arthropods are now only known because they are well represented in the fossil record. Extinct maybe, but this Dicranurus species just keeps cropping up in horror movies, an inspirational creature that rarely receives credit for its influence on popular culture; nevertheless it’s form is frequently faked and sold to fossil collectors.

With the millions of nervous systems available, it seems a poor effort to display only one, but I have chosen an example that in general form covers many other insects – it belongs to a grasshopper, and I also have a story to tell.

As a zoology student I frequently glimpsed the internal structure of the grasshopper’s big brother – the locust, and this provided at least a rudimentary understanding of the insects behaviour in relation to its nervous system – or at least as good an understanding as is possible for one who has only one brain.

As grasshopper like many other Arthropods has nerve bundles arranged internally along the ventral side. Clearly the head isn't making all of life's decisions.
Grasshoppers, like many other Arthropods, have fused nerve ganglia arranged internally along the ventral side, and it is fair to say that the head end ‘brain’ does not make all of this animal’s life decisions.

Way back when I was a zoology student, our college expected everybody to work hard for a degree, but on occasions I didn’t feel inclined to fill every waking hour with study, and having finished a series of experiments on how insects see, didn’t feel inclined to attend through a Friday afternoon. As an impetuous ‘know it all’, I felt every aspect of the subject had been adequately covered; as did my co-worker, another student, who just  like me, wanted to broaden his educations beyond grasshopper behaviour.

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Our university was in London and not too far from The British Museum where a Tutankhamun exhibition was about to end. It would probably never leave the Cairo Museum again and as the world shouldn’t revolve around insect brains (although  judging by their numbers, it probably does), we decided to take the afternoon off and visit the exhibition.

Decisions, decisions. Should we do yet another experiment on what this fellow is thinking (and I use that term loosely) or hould we go and see Tut?
Decisions, decisions: do yet another experiment on what this fellow is thinking – and I use that term loosely – or go and see the contents of a dead king’s tomb? It was of course a no brainer; we would take time out to visit King Tut’s extensive hoard of guilt edged burial tat.
It was another 'no brainer'. We would go and see KIng Tut's extensive and exceptional burial tat.
It was another ‘no brainer’. We would go and see KIng Tut’s extensive and exceptional burial tat.

Once out of the lab we’d simply make up a thought experiment like a couple of Victorian armchair naturalists. Our experiments had already shown us that if the image of a sharp edged object – such as a blade of grass – passed rapidly across the compound eye of a grasshopper, the insect would react by jumping. We knew that the hopper would react to a sharp curved edge because that’s the way grass leaves are, but we took it a stage further by theorising that evolution would first and foremost select for a sharp straight edge over a curved one because the former would provide a stronger stimulus when it moved across an insects compound eye, firing off neurons more effectively.

The experimental set up we’d been using all week was a simple one – a bit like a super sized hampster wheel on its side with regular grass shaped incisions cut into its rotating surface. The wheel could be spun around at various speeds with the hopper sat at the centre. But of course we had no plans to actually test our theory using it. We would instead set off for the museum and write the thing down on a scrap of paper as we travelled on the underground. Rather unsurprisingly… our theory turned out to be spot on, with a 15% increase in the grasshopper’s reaction to a straight edge over a curved edge. It was then a simple process to work our figures backwards and even devise a statistical test to make sure our results were significant, rather than a matter of chance. Clearly something new and quite fictitious had been added to the pantheon of scientific discovery; satisfied with our work, we went on to join the queue outside of the Museum, and once inside, had a great afternoon in what seemed a fantasy world almost as impressive as the one we had just invented.

Our museum visit was not without some relationship to entomology - the Ancient Egyptians were fond of dung beetles.
Our museum visit was not entirely without reference to entomology – the Ancient Egyptians were fond of dung beetles.

The experiment was written up a few days later and submitted. We thought no more about our harmless deception, until a couple of weeks later our supervisor stopped us in a corridor to congratulate us on our work and insisted that we must submit the findings to a major scientific journal….. Now, if our brains had been working as efficiently as our make believe grasshopper then we might have seen this coming. Terrific we said, but of course we’d have to repeat the experiment to be absolutely certain. I’ve always been hopeless with repeats, all my experiments seemed to invalidate earlier results, usually because I didn’t stop when I was ahead – even though one might expect a pretty clear result with an insect brain, my own brain was less well organised. We never repeated anything of course. Utilising the same thought experiment, we quickly discovered that we couldn’t repeat the results, much to the disappointment of our supervisor. For us, it was a great relief to get off the hook, because nobody wants to start their scientific careers as fraudsters – any scientist so inclined probably needs to work up to it.

Not quite a plague, but enough hoppers to make short work of the undergrowth.
A group of hoppers in their natural habitat are well organised feeders. Not quite a plague, but there are enough youngsters here to make short work of this undergrowth.

The important thing about our non-existent laboratory experiment was that the details were convincing because we had a fair idea of how a grasshopper’s brain might interpret what it’s eyes saw, because the hopper wasn’t thinking about very much, it was simply reacting to a visual stimulus.

It is usually possible to gauge how good an animals eyesight is by simply looking at the eyes – size is always important even with a compound eye, which sees things very much differently from a vertebrate eyes, even though there are similarities in the neural process. For any who have looked inside a grasshoppers head, it is clear from the amount of nerve material dedicated to the eyes and brain in this region, that this must be true.

But what about those other nerve ganglia along the body. For any who have undertaken experiments more thoroughly than I have, it is clear these centres co-ordinate a variety of bodily functions without reference to an anterior brain. I don’t advocate nasty experiments, but a cockroach without a head, and with the rest of the body sealed off with a blob of wax, will run around for several days… and it is noteworthy that you didn’t get that so much with Anne Boleyn.

Success then, is not always about the complexity of a system, it is about appropriateness to a situation; despite millions of years of appearing to show very little change, most insect nervous systems have had plenty of time to fine tune to specific environmental circumstances. 

Spiders manage an enormous variety of behaviour from one species to another. Having six and often eight eyes gives them an advantage as preators, but how they process and co-ordinate incoming visual information is to a degree beyond our comprehension.
Spiders manage an enormous variety of behaviour from one species to another. With as many as six to eight eyes they are ferocious preators, but how they process and co-ordinate incoming visual information is to some degree beyond our comprehension.

Arthropods may appear rather odd looking, but there is no doubt their bodies are fit for purpose, even though we might consider an insect’s level of complexity no match for our own. Sadly, the truth is they might well survive some environmental disasters that we cannot.

It is presently too soon to judge ‘us’ a major success because our tenure has been short in comparison with many simpler forms that have existed for many millions of years; and stood the test of time.

Trilobites were a very successful group of arthropods. They disappeared from Earth during one of the great mass extinctions of species 250 million years ago at the end of the Permain.
A Trilobite which is perhaps more recognisable than the previous alien form. Trilobites are a stark reminder that an animal group can reign successfully in a wide variety of forms and then quite suddenly disappear when conditions change. All species are inevitably destined to change or finally  become extinct – there are no exceptions..

So, which of the vast number of present invertebrate survivors display the most sophisticated nervous systems. Certainly Crustacea such as crabs and Arachnids such as spiders show interesting refinements in behaviour, and this often includes impressive courtship displays, none of which can occur without a finely tuned nervous system.

Crabs.

Crabs utilse their forelimbs to great effect with feeding as their primary function - this Hawaaian rock crab is feeding on seaweed. crabs with more developed pincers will also used them for defence and males will often wave them about in complex displays to impress females.
Crabs utilse six pairs of appendages to catch and deal with food – this includes their forelimbs which they use to great effect – and feeding is often their primary function as demonstrated by this Hawaiian rock crab as it delicately plucks seaweed off of a rock. 

The forelimbs of many also become more developed and used as pincers for defence and males sometimes wave them about during complex courtship displays to impress females; all of which requires a refined nervous system even within certain limitations. A lot of what a crab does is automatic and not a lot of neural activity is devoted to thinking. Crabs exist without philosophical thought. Rene Descartes said, ‘I think therefore I am’, but crabs are not well equipped to think about uses very much; their modi operandi makes them look like creatures with attitude, but b.s.ing is beyond them – sometimes neurological limitations are not such a bad thing.

Spiders.

Spiders are not short on sensory ability, as ruthless predators their eye sight is usually good but this is dependend upon species - most spiders have eight eyes. They also sense vibration well, this Dolomedes which is not a spider that uses a web senses movement on the surface of the ponds where it sits and waits for prey.
Spiders such as Dolomedes are not short on sensory ability. Visual signals are important, but they can also sense vibrations. Dolomedes is not a spider that uses a web, it utilises surface tension to stand on a pond’s surface and can detect ripples; the back legs rest upon something solid, the front legs upon the water’s surface, sensing for prey.

Octopuses.

Perhaps the most impressive invertebrate nervous system belongs to the octopuses. They are Cephalopods and part of the Mollusc family. It is difficult to watch a slow moving snail and consider this as a relative of such a fast moving intelligent creature. By any standards an octupus is a clever animal able to solve complicated problems. Some species have phenomenal eyesight, equipped as they are with eyes similar in structure to our own, these are often as big, or even bigger than their ‘brains’. Octopuses are exceptional at co-ordination and can change colour rapidly to match their surroundings. None of which could be done without a complex nervous system.

These are live octupus tentacles and their co-ordination is complex and often extraordinary.
These tentacles belong to a live octopus, they are wonderfully co-ordinated and can often achieve extraordinary feats when executing complex tasks.

The octopus nervous system contains as many as 500 million neurons with three fifths of this neural mass distributed in the tentacles. The brain is a lobed and compex in structure with substantial computing ability – and this is a creature that also has a good memory.

The question is; with this well organised neural arrangement, does an octopus watch its own arms and wonder what they are up to as they go about doing their own thing, or is the main brain informed of every movement? Because our nervous system is ordered with a single brain doing all of the thinking, it is difficult for us to understand an animal with it’s thinking power distributed so widely throughout the body.

p1230695-fix-smallWhen it comes down to it, there is no need to invent strange alien like creatures, because we have plenty of extraordinary looking animals on Earth already, and many of which analyse their surroundings very much differently from the way that we do, using ultraviolet, sonar, magnetic and other sensory processes and many catch aspects of the world that we cannot. The strangest of creatures are already here – it is just a question of paying attention to them because in the grand scheme of things, we probably can’t do without them.

An octopus has a brain that rivals some vertebrates, but not this one it is a plastic toy held up to the sky - favoured animals always end up duplicated as toys and this one sits at the end of the bath.
The multi-brained octopus has a computing power that rivals the ability of many vertebrates, but not this one it is just a plastic toy held up to the sky… Let’s pretend. Favoured animals always end up duplicated as toys – this one usually hangs out at the end of the bath.

We should take photographs of all of the life that Planet Earth has to offer – even the small and seemingly insignificant forms because all have gone through a great many trials to survive millions of years of evolution. We owe it to them and to ourselves to pay more attention to the life that is around us; to notice and photograph as many species as we can, especially the ones that don’t immediately grab our sympathy or attention. All are fundamental to the success of natural environments and world ecosystems will ultimately suffer if they are lost. We need to record as many as we can, because species are now disappearing from the world at an alarming rate, many of them unknown to science. This is a sad state of affairs. So, ‘Take a picture and Save the Planet’, or at the very least, help to make a record of what might soon be lost to us.

Next time: The Human Brain – Are We Too Stupid to Save the Planet?

 

So Long New Zealand and Thanks For All the Sheep. Part 2.

Any European botanist arriving in New Zealand for the first time might just as well be landing on a different planet – so extraordinarily is the plant life on these South Pacific islands.

Looking from our mountain to another - this is Kakepuku.
Looking from our mountain to another one – this is Kakepuku.
It took four or five years to see any positive results when trying to establish our native New Zealand garden. The one thing that grew easily was flax, and this was encouraging, because I’d seen nectar feeding birds visiting flax flowers elsewhere – so, it wasn’t difficult to join up the dots… soon I was dividing and planting out as many locally grown flax as I could get my hands on. 
Alice dividing a native flax for planting in early 2010 several months before we leave for good.
My daughter Alice dividing an old grubbed out flax which might provide 20 starter plants or more.
One day I looked out of my office window and noticed the beautiful dusky red flowers of rewarewa blooming in the bush behind the house; and not long after an excitable tui began visiting several times a day to feed upon the nectar, but as soon as the flowers went over, so did the bird, quite literally – it flew over and away without hesitation. This was disappointing, but suddenly it dawned on me that we should be providing a whole range of appropriate flowering plants to attract birds in through spring and summer.

Tui feeding on Rewarewa in trees behind the house. 

As nectar appeared to be the key, I started playing detective, following tuis to see what they were feeding on. In spring one of the first visits they made was to the beautiful sulphur coloured flowers of kowhai, and there the guilty bird’s faces were soon covered in pollen.  Almost everybody in New Zealand must have seen this, but it was a revelation to me. On the day of my discovery, I set about searching for kowhia seedlings, which were easily found growing close by adult trees and were soon potted up and placed in a shade behind the house to establish.
Kowhai flowers are perfectly shaped for pollination by the curved beaks of tui and bellbird and once our first flowering kowhai were over, the birds moved quickly on to fresh rewarewa flowers in the trees behind the house. They sought out the colourful blooms just as our first visiting tui had done a few years earlier. I was excited by this minor progress –  the nectar timeline availability had been doubled with the planting of a single species.
These are kowhai flowers and the tui love them and will travel some distance to find them - that is, if native pigeon haven't already stripped out the buds, which eventually  happens, but not until we have left our New Zealand home when the trees become big enough for it to be worthwhile for the pigeon to bother.
Tui love kowhai flowers and will travel some distance to find them – that is, if native pigeon haven’t already stripped out the buds, which eventually happened to ours, but the trees have to be big enough for the pigeons to bother. So now there are native pigeons taking their share, the answer is to plant more kowhai.
Next in line was the mountain flax, which flowers after rewarewa, and filled a gap until the familiar New Zealand flax started to provide a nectar bonanza in early summer – this progression carried us through the period when tui and bellbird rear their young, and if we could get them to stay and nest we were home and dry – tui feed their young primarily on insects and spiders and there is now no shortage of these. Things were looking up. My flax planting habit now bordered on an obsession, with hundreds of plants going in over just a few days – a hopeful invitation to a future nectar feeding frenzy.

 

Flax goes in wherever there is space - here below the garden banks where it is interspersed with clumps of toi toi grass.
I begin planting flax wherever there is space – here on gully banks below the garden where they are interspersed with clumps of native toi toi grass.
As summer progressed, the nectar feeders (insects as well as the birds), moved onto pohutukawa that had been planted around the garden. Tui more naturally feed upon closely related rata flowers in the bush, but possum stripped them out before our arrival, although now the possum are under control the ratas are growing back.
Pohutukawa are susceptible to the frosts we get each winter until they are around a metre high; so these trees don’t grow here naturally and are more usually found in coastal regions where the climate is milder. I would cover our young plants every evening through winter until they were old enough to survive.
Pohutukawa flowers brought our nectar feeding season to a close and the birds would then leave in search of other now plentiful foods in late summer. Despite this tui and bellbird became permanent residents for five months or so through spring and summer, and in addition, they started to nest in our bush… Bingo!
ABCD
December 2007. Pohutukawa or ‘New Zealand Christmas tree’ flowers on an establishing tree.
 Increased nectar availability is a major step forward, but ground cover is also important and I begin to measure success in terms of whether I can see cows in the next door pasture; the flax is beginning to screen them out now, and this is the plant of choice to form corridors along the fence line for birds to move along.
During 2007 we began to see more native birds. As I had hoped, our garden was developing a symbiotic relationship with the bush, and I wondered if this process might be applied more generally to some other conservation areas – providing the gardens can be prevented from moving into adjoining ecosystems.
Looking back at the house from the neighbour's pasture in 2009 it is apparent that I am getting there - the this have arrived as have bell birds - they are hanging around and now nesting in the bush.
2009: Looking back at the house from the neighbour’s pasture it is apparent that we are getting there – tui have arrived in numbers, bellbirds are also showing up, and both are now nesting in the bush.
 Mixing wild areas with gardens is usually frowned upon, but if gardens are planted entirely to natives they will provide a concentrated food source for many birds and insects, and do no harm to recovering environments that are still very much out of balance.
And there was a lot else to establish on this land besides flax. Manuka had died out altogether due to a disease that hit the local area sometime before we arrived. 
Eventually the manuka were re-established by collecting seedlings from locations where they grew densely, these were potted up to joined the kowhai seedlings behind the house and in a year or two, all were planted out. I learned the hard way that manuka are brittle plants and will snap in a high wind if there is no other growth to shelter them.
wwwwww
When in flower, manuka trees are covered with masses of beautiful tiny white blooms which attract thousands of native insects – these in turn are eaten by a variety of native birds that get a boost from yet another valuable food source. In addition manuka honey is medicinal and highly valued – we set up a bee hive… but never stole the honey.
 By 2010 eight acres of land was supporting a considerable number of birds, even bellbirds were moving along the edge of the paddock through corridors of flax, spreading the birds out and reducing competition.  
The bush occupies half the plot with the rest divided between paddock and garden. It would have been great to get rid of the paddock altogether, but in reality this would have reduced our properties resale value. Conservation is often constrained by practicality and it is better to work within such limitations than make life miserable.
In many parts of New Zealand, the old growth forests have largely gone and there is less natural food available in the young densely growing secondary forests that have replaced them. In consequence nature reserves often provide feeding stations to supplement the diet of native birds, but these may also be an invitation to disease, whereas a natural garden has the advantage of providing a super source of food with far less chance of transmitting parasites and pathogens.
 2010.
2010. From the living room window we can now see no cows at all in the neighbouring paddock. Fanbloofytastic. I've never felt so at home. It seems a pity to leave.
2010. From the living room window plant growth prevents a clear view of cows in the neighbouring paddock. Fantastic! I feel much better now that I can no longer see livestock munching grass… but I can still hear them on a calm day.

As the garden fills out, the number of bellbird and tui increase in number through spring and summer.

ANCEDE
Tuis are not uncommon birds – they have declined in some areas but are now making a comeback. A sure sign that conditions suit them is the successful rearing of young – here two recently fledged birds chortle to one another on flowering flax stalks.
The young tuis are everywhere now – they are hanging out at the local nectar bars behaving boisterously and are making a lot of noise. In late summer, things will become quieter as the birds move off to feed elsewhere.
Young Tuis playing at being territorial.
Tuis and bellbirds return in the autumn to feed upon insects, spiders and sap flowing from trees in the bush; they will pick off food mostly at the forest edge where it is warmer, and we see them regularly.
As autumn arrives bellbirds feed behind the house.
 Soon after we arrived, fifty lacebark trees were planted down the drive, they are old enough now to flower and supply food for large numbers of insects. In turn, some insects become food for the birds.
ABCDE
Lacebark flowers are attractive to native butterflies, but I like to pretend that Monarch butterflies should be here, rather than just in North America where they are truely native.
 Establishing the strangling plant Muehlenbeckia australis behind the house has increased the number of New Zealand copper butterflies that live here; there were very few when we arrived. The adults are now common through January as the females go about laying their eggs on tiny Muehlenbeckia leaves.

 

ABCDE
Adult New Zealand copper butterflies favour a native broom behind my studio where they feed and perform territorial behaviour. Hopefully planting more broom plants about the place will increase copper numbers even further.

 

I have tried to seal the bush line with native shrubs and trees and this is already reducing wind damage. In future this growth will increasingly protect the margins of this little block of bush.
ABCDE
Viewed from my office window at the back of the house, the garden flows effortlessly into the bush and provides protection from wind damage – this can only sensibly be done with non-intrusive natives plants.
So that’s the way it ends for us, we are moving on, although I refuse to say ‘to pastures new’. We can’t claim to have saved any species facing extinction, but when rare birds re-establish in the adjoining mountain reserve they will certainly travel down the spur of bush that ends close behind the house.
Currently there is a higher density of native birds here than further up the mountain due entirely to a super abundance of food provided by a diverse and concentrated garden planting regime. In the past at the onset of winter it is likely that birds would have migrated down from the mountain to the lush forests and bogs on the plains below, but almost all of this has now been drained and given over to  pasture. Tui will venture further afield for food, but this is as far as most native birds will get.
Some of the birds we have attracted in were previously uncommon. Tomtits showed up in 2009 which was a first for us. The next on the list might be robins, recently re-introduced to the national reserve (further up the mountain) by a dedicated group of conservationists.
Rowdy kaka parrots have been seen on the lower slopes of the mountain and I am confident that they will show up here once the trees mature and begin bearing quantities of fruit.
As the trees mature some will provide a fruit bonanza for kaka and the parrots might then return.
As trees mature some will provide a fruit bonanza for kaka parrots which might one day return.
As the bush matures other rare birds (once common here) will also return  – no doubt to the delight of future residents living in this carefully sited home.
The North Island Kokako was last seen in the area during the 1990s; the good news is that it has recently been re-introduced to the forest reserve – a process that started during 2017. If this is a success, I am quite certain that one day the bird will return and feed on the property. The South Island Kokako which has an orange-red wattle is now thought to be extinct. Sadly this species has not been seen for  a number of years, but some remain hopeful that it is hiding out somewhere and will one day be rediscovered.
The South Island Kokako is a distinct species showing an orange-red wattle, but sadly it is now though to be extinct. The North Island Kokako has a blue wattle would be a great addition to the birdlife here.
The North Island Kokako has a blue wattle and would make a great addition to the local birdlife.
 It is already possible to see natural New Zealand treasures from the house. A few weeks before we moved out, I counted (within a few minutes), seven species of native bird moving around the garden while I was sat on the deck – a truly rewarding experience.
With a reduction in pests and an increase in food there has clearly been a positive response by visiting and part resident native birds. Our neighbours have also noticed an increase in activity. 
Bellbirds are now regularly seen where once there were none and although they are less inclined to leave the bush line than are tui, they do now cross an open paddock to feed in our neighbour’s garden, which is a small thing, but an indication of positive change.
We have left this tiny piece of New Zealand more diverse than we found it; and this is something that almost anybody might do even with a relatively small block of land. It can be easily achieved with a little thought and effort, especially if they don’t keep a cat, and work at effective pest control.
This kind of project might be achieved almost anywhere in the world, although it need not necessarily involve nectar feeders, the priority might for example be to establish a greater abundance of seeds and fruits. Certainly planting for the provision of fruit as the bush matures was an important consideration for us. Tui and native pigeon are key birds for seed distribution in the New Zealand bush and it is clear they are driving regeneration here.
Returning diversity is essential when attempting to conserve ecosystems that have been degraded, and getting the birds and insects back is a necessary but small part of a far bigger picture.

Flowers are the key to feeding a great many animals in the New Zealand garden.

 

Our family’s carbon foot print has been covered by planting hundreds of trees and shrubs around this property, while the bush has been left to do its own thing, and now that there is no livestock grazing, the under storey is coming back. Parts of the bush are now impenetrable and there is extensive lush regeneration.
Half the land, which includes all of the bush area and quite a bit that was previously sheep pasture is now protected in perpetuity by a QE2 Covenant, and in theory, nobody will be able to fell trees or graze stock in the protected area again.

Each of our actions should  be driven by what is realistically achievable, but we must also be hopeful for the future.

The house with establishing garden and protected bush behind.
The house with establishing garden and protected bush behind.
Results have not been achieved on this site by using a purists approach, and to a degree there has been a push to move things along. In many conservation areas, the rate of recovery needs to pick up, because for some plants an animals it is a race against time. Whatever the choices we make, it is essential to retain species diversity as our population numbers increase, and natural areas disappear.
I can only hope that future residents enjoy whatever achievements they manage in this extraordinary and interesting place, and that they will find time in years to come to ‘take a picture’, and make comparisons that might lead to further improvement, and in some small way help ‘save the planet’.

 2002. Bird species seen in the bush on our arrival: fantail (Maori:- piwakawaka or tiwakawaka) ; grey warbler (Maori:- riroriro) and morepork owl (Maori:- ruru). Species occasionally seen or passing through: silvereye (Maori :- tauhou), tui and the bellbird (with two Maori names :- korimako and makamako).

2002. Bird species occasionally seen: Welcome Swallow (Maori :- warou) – these increased in number by nesting on the eaves of the house – two or three pairs would regularly rear two to three broods a year 20042010.

 2002 and 2010. Birds species common and nesting: Kingfisher (Maori:- kotare)  and Pukeko (the latter a grassland species which is not truly native).

2010: Bird species very common through eight to ten months of the year either in the garden or the bush and also nesting: fantail, grey warbler, silver eye, tui, bellbird and New Zealand pigeon (Kereru).

No change: morepork owl – occasionally seen and often heard.

Occasional: shining cuckoo (Maori:- pipiwharauroa), tomtit (Maori:- miromiro) and New Zealand Falcon (Maori:- karearea).

With thanks to my family and neighbours and especially Alice for helping with the planting in the final stages of our stay.

For the second half of  ‘A New Zealand Odyssey’ numbers Six to Eleven in approximately 5 minute sequences, please see below. For Numbers One to Five please view ‘So Long New Zealand and Thanks for All the Sheep’. PART 1.