One Garden against the World: In Search of Hope in a Changing Climate by Kate Bradbury
Bloomsbury Wildlife, £18.99 ISBN 978-1399408868
Still reeling from the dystopian predictions outlined in Silent Earth by Dave Goulson, I approached this book with mild trepidation. It turned out, however, to be just the tonic I needed to muster some optimism
amid the increasingly bleak predictions about a nature emergency.
One Garden Against the World is part nature love story, part call to arms. It won’t fix climate change or the threat of biodiversity collapse on its own, but it will help gardeners focus on the things we can do in our own backyards and allotments to give lifeforms the best chance of survival and us a real sense of purpose in what we can do to help.
Author Kate Bradbury, a wildlife gardening expert and writer, is hardwired to the rhythms and balances of the natural world. Her lyrical and intimate diary covers 15 months from her own garden in Portslade near Brighton, with forays to more rural places while on holiday, seeing family and friends or walking her dog Tosca. The existential crisis affecting hedgehogs, bees, frogs and swifts is never far from her mind and her personal mission to get robins to fledge in her garden for the first time for three years is an anxious but touching thread. At the end of each chapter, Bradbury focuses on the lifecycle of one specific lifeform with tips on how you can encourage them into your garden – at last, I know what to do
with empty snail shells.
I will be buying this book for new neighbours who razed their garden to the ground
Bradbury’s love for wildlife struggling to eke out an existence during the climate/nature emergency reveals an understanding that we humans literally can’t survive without them. She skillfully balances the seriousness of the issues we face with a ‘best foot forward’ approach. Her sunny greetings to various visitors, her ecstasy rushing into the garden in her pyjamas to welcome rain and petrichor makes you wish she was a neighbour. Her mental gymnastics in trying to keep up with domestic conversations
with Emma, her partner, while thinking of ways of giving her robins the best chance to fledge, is so familiar, and a great insight into a mind that cares deeply.
The book resonated with me on many levels: the anxiety of giving wildlife the best chance of survival, the conflicts when lives are lost for the sake of others, the frustration of conversations with friends who are either completely unaware of what’s going on or, worse, ambivalent to the impending environmental catastrophes if action isn’t taken. The ongoing battle between Gulls Allowed (Bradbury’s community action group to save nesting seagulls) and Drone Bastard (who has a personal vendetta against those nesting on his roof) touches on the comical, if it wasn’t so infuriating.
The overriding take from this book is that the custodians of the UK’s 30 million gardens can make a difference
I will be buying this book for new neighbours who razed their garden to the ground and then said to me, incredulous, “You actually like nature don’t you?” I’ll also take heed from Bradbury’s despair over the amount of plastic used in the garden these days and resist the temptation to use landscape fabric on all the paths at my allotment.
Bradbury’s joyous daily interactions with nature are infectious. Her sensitive brand of activism, both practical and educational (occasionally employing opportunistic community action) shows that with a little gentle persuasion and appealing to people’s co-operative nature, it needn’t be a one-person crusade.
The overriding take from this book is that the custodians of the UK’s 30 million gardens can make a difference. Collective action can bring about meaningful change. We can teach others that we are part of nature, not separate from it, and that gardens are not just for people. It can feel overwhelming at times, but, if you take an ounce of inspiration from this clarion call, then, at the very least, it’s a vital step in
the right direction.
Read more on why letting a bit of wild into your garden can only be a good thing