Just in case you have the impression that we live in an oasis of surburbia here, I’ll set you straight. As well as being guardians of the house and garden, we also look after a patch of bushland and a dam.

The wilder area of the block is a haven for birds, wallabies, kangaroos, koalas, snakes, lizards and frogs, as well as rabbits, hares and the odd fox.

It’s a beautiful place to wander at any time of year and it’s especially lovely early in the day. Not that I’ve ever seen it then but I have it on good authority. 

A couple of visiting friends have meditated there, independently of each other, first thing in the morning. They both said that it was quite beautiful. So there you have it. 

On warm afternoons I sometimes sit on a log down there, watching the birds and looking at the trees. It’s an enormously relaxing and energising activity, if doing nothing can be called that.

Previous residents ring-barked trees, buried rubbish in plastic bags, gouged rock out of the ground to make a dam and scattered old car parts about.

They also allowed blackberries and other weeds to run rampant. In one section of bush we found piles of ceramic tiles and old car parts and after rain we still find bits of plastic and metal.  

We’ve seen it as our mission to try to restore the land to its natural state.

My partner has spent days cutting back the blackberries that obscured a good section of the property, while I’ve dug out weeds – mostly gorse and Capeweed.

An understorey has now grown near the dam –  wattles, young eucalypts and Drooping Cassinia – while closer to the garden boundary Rice Flower bushes (Pimelea linifolia) are thriving. 

The ground cover of native violas (Viola hederacea) has made a comeback, and here and there clumps of Wallaby Grass are growing.

There’s also a fair amount of bracken fern; although a native, it’s considered a weed in some parts of the country.

One of the first plants to emerge after a bushfire, bracken tends to discourage trees and other vegetation from growing.

Bracken fronds and rhizomes are poisonous to stock and the spores are said to be carcinogenic to humans. It’s probably a good idea to wear a mask if you’re clearing it.

Lately, I’ve been reading about the Bradley Method of Bush Regeneration. It’s been around for a while but I’ve just come across it. (’Tsk, tsk,’ I hear you mutter, ‘that’s her credibility blown.’) 

Eileen Burton Bradley and her sister Joan Burton Bradley were born in 1911 and 1916, respectively, at Neutral Bay in Sydney.

During their regular walks in Ashton Park and on Chowder Head, near Sydney Harbour, Eileen and Joan observed that slashing and clearing operations to control weeds caused vigorous re-growth. They decided to carry out a little experiment.

Using only hand tools, the sisters weeded areas along their walks, a little at a time. Their methods were simple: work from areas of less weed infestation to more densely weeded areas; minimize disturbance to topsoil and leaf litter; work in accordance with the pace of regeneration. The results were impressive.

In 1976 the New South Wales branch of the National Trust of Australia successfully trialled the method for five years. It led to the development of the National Trust bush management education programs and to the establishment of the Trust’s Bushland Management Division, largely responsible for the restoration of bushland for Councils.  

In his book, Permaculture: Principles & Pathways Beyond Sustainability, David Holmgren writes of the Bradley method of bush regeneration. He says that ‘…based on the careful observation and minimal interventions of the Bradley sisters, [the Bradley Method] has been acknowledged as highly effective in conserving bushland from the spread of environmental weeds.’

The method has also been acknowledged by no less an authority on deep ecology than John Seed.

It’s reassuring to know that we’ve been doing something right all this time, even if we didn’t realise it. It seems that, sometimes, the best course of action is to do as little as possible.