EcoLincNZ

Category: Restoration

  • The pines are invading! Planting non-native species increases re-invasion

    The pines are invading! Planting non-native species increases re-invasion

    Soil is life

    I’m not sure if you’re aware, as I was not aware of this before coming to Lincoln University, but soil is very much alive. There are millions of organisms in a single handful of soil. These critters perform the majority of the ecosystem services provided by soils.

    In New Zealand, these organisms range from burrowing animals, to soil-dwelling invertebrates, to fungi, to microscopic bacteria and much more. So next time you walk on soil, think about how much life is beneath your feet.

    For plants, a major component of successful growth and survivability is the soil microbiota, such as bacteria, fungi, viruses, nematodes (tiny worms), and many more. I have much love for fungi in the soil microbiota, especially mycorrhizal fungi that are essential for plant growth.

    Mycorrhizal fungi form mutualistic relationships (beneficial for both organisms) with plant roots. The fungi extend their network to increase the nutrient intake in exchange for carbohydrates that the fungi cannot produce itself.

    There are two major types of mycorrhizal fungi, ectomycorrhizal fungi, which infect the outside of plant roots, and arbuscular mycorrhizal fungi (AMF or endomycorrhizal), which infect the inside of plant roots.

    I did a project on ectomycorrhizal fungi abundance on red beech tree roots for SCIE393 where I took this photo of an ectomycorrhizal fungal fruiting body (mushroom) under the microscope (which I thought was very cool). This is really where my love for mycorrhizal fungi started to blossom.

    Ectomycorrhizal fruiting body under the microscope – Photo by Lucas Watkin (CC-BY-NC)

    Exotic plants are strong invaders

    That’s enough about me for now, time to talk about invasions from non-native plants. As I’m sure everyone who lives in New Zealand is aware, we live in an invaded country, full of exotic predators, pests, and weeds.

    While everyone tends to think of the worst invaders are pests like possums and mustelids, the worst invaders are actually the weeds. Approximately half of all the vascular plants in the wild in New Zealand are non-native. There are around 25,000 exotic plant species that have been introduced to New Zealand, with around 2,700 of these becoming wild. Compared to around 2,500 native plants, this is an insane numbers of exotic plants and so to conserve our native species, we must do something about all of these exotic species.

    From grassland to pineland: The rapid invasion of black pine into well grazed high country pasture – Photo by Jon Sullivan (CC BY-NC 2.0)

    One of the worst exotic plant species are wilding pines, such as lodgepole pine and radiata pine. Lodgepole pine was introduced into New Zealand in 1880 to combat erosion. Burning of forests, overgrazing, and introduced browsers, such as deer, goats and rabbits, were clearing the hillsides of our native plants, leading to more slips. The New Zealand government decided to plant exotic plants, specifically Douglas-fir and lodgepole pine to cover the hillsides and reduce erosion.

    These pines did stop the erosion, however, what was not anticipated was the enormous dispersal ability of these wilding pines. Seeds of wilding pines can survive for a decade in their cones, grow roughly anywhere, and can travel kilometers from their parent. There is now roughly 800,000 hectares of wilding exotics in the South Island alone, two thirds of which is lodgepole pine!

    Wilding pines of Flock Hill Station: The very many wilding pines coming out from the experimental forestry plots in adjacent Craigieburn Forest Park – Photo by Jon Sullivan (CC BY-NC 2.0)

    Be careful what you plant!

    This paper headed by Joanna Green has contributions from my lovely thesis supervisor Lauren Waller. In it they describe the effects of planting non-native plants on the soil microbiota, and how that can impact what grows there afterwards. They were specifically looking at how well lodgepole pines grow in soils that have been used and conditioned by exotic plant species.

    Joanna and Lauren started by using soils that had already been conditioned by 19 native and 20 exotic plant species from another two experiments by Warwick Allen and Lauren Waller. The soil microbiota, the nutrients in the soil, and other factors, like the pH of the soil, had been changed to best suit the plant that had been grown in that soil.

    An example of part of the soil microbiota that was conditioned were the ectomycorrhizal fungi. These fungi are required for successful growth by some of our native species, such as our beech, mānuka, and kānuka species. However, exotic species use different species of ectomycorrhizal fungi than our native species. Therefore, when exotic species are grown in soil they will grow well with their species of ectomycorrhiza.

    Basically, think of it like this. If you owned a garden and really liked roses, you would grow a lot of roses. You might grow some other plants but the focus of the garden would be on roses. Now, if someone else came in and took over the garden for themselves, they might not like roses as much but might really like petunias. They will then plant petunias in place of where the roses used to be, altering the state of that garden.

    In terms of ectomycorrhiza, they require associations to survive, so the native ectomycorrhiza species that were in the soil will die after their native plant partners are gone. Exotic ectomycorrhiza species associated with exotic plant species will then survive. Due to this, it will become a lot more difficult for our native species to grow back in that soil due to a lack of ectomycorrhiza that they can grow with. Conversely, it will be a lot easier for exotic plant species to grow in partnership with a large number of exotic ectomycorrhiza.

    Anyway, back to the paper. The researchers found that lodgepole pine grew better in soils that had been conditioned by exotic species, such as black alder, cocks-foot, spear thistle, gorse, and many more. And this was regardless of whether pines had been planted there or not! Lodgepole pine will have a much easier time establishing and invading into areas that have previously had exotic species growing there.

    Lodgepole pine tree near Lake Benmore – Photo by abcdefgewing (CC-BY-NC)

    So why does this matter?

    To conserve our native plants, sometimes we must plant them in areas that have previously grown exotic species. Joanna and Lauren’s research shows that the soil will be conditioned to favour growth of exotic species, and so growing native plants will be more difficult. It will also be a lot easier for exotic species, such as lodgepole pine, to re-invade and take over the conservation site. Therefore, conservation managers must be aware of this soil legacy and decisions must be made in order to manage this re-invasion potential.

    So, next time you want to plant an exotic plant, think about the soil, and whether you would rather plant a native instead.

    This article was prepared by postgraduate student Lucas Watkin, Master of Science in Conservation and Ecology, for an assignment in ECOL608 Research Methods in Ecology.

    Green, J. L., Waller, L. P., Allen, W. J., Orwin, K. H., Pelser, P. B., Smaill, S., & Dickie, I. A. (2025). Plant-soil feedback from non-native communities increases pine invasion and re-invasion potential. Plant Soil, 514(2), 2461-2474. https://doi.org/10.1007/s11104-025-07528-x

    Featured image: Did somebody order pines? The rapid invasion of black pine into well grazed high country pasture – Photo by Jon Sullivan (CC BY-NC 2.0)

  • Lonely nature: the fear of suburbia

    Blandly pleasant houses flank wide roads. Inoffensive strip gardens line dull driveways and plain, wooden slat fences. Every street is perfectly plain and welcoming. The normal neighbourhood stretches on, unchanging for blocks.

    If you have looked for a house, flat, or rental in the past fifteen years, you have visited this suburb. Welcome home.

    Does anyone else listen to the Magnus Archives? It’s a fictional horror podcast where an archivist records first hand accounts of people pursued by manifestations of their own fear, including the fear of always being watched, hunted by dark beasts, or being horribly, completely alone. The endless suburbia described above is from one of these accounts: an episode named Cul-de-sac.

    Horror employs the unknown, unnatural, and surreal to frighten its audience. I find it disconcerting that modern suburbia is considered uncomfortable enough to feature. Scarily, it works. In this particular account, the writer finds themselves alone in a desolate suburban neighbourhood, absent of life and vigour. Nothing defines one home from the next. Gardens are non-existent, and no other living thing is present. Why is this dull repetitiveness so horrifying?

    Our homes define us as much as we define them. When an area is so lacking in character, in life, it ceases to be a place at all. Global trends of urban design (especially in western countries) have spent decades prioritising vehicles over personal well-being, land-use diversity, and ecosystem health. Poor planning has resulted in biologically desolate, emotionally draining landscapes that we spend our entire lives in. Some land uses, such as industrial, are considered incompatible with nature. As a result, suburban design has an imperative theatre to reintroduce biodiversity into our every-day lives.

    “The normal just seemed to go on forever.” The Archivist, The Magnus Archives. Episode 150 “Cul-de-sac”.
    Image: Author. All rights reserved.

    In 2008, Maria Ignatieva, Glenn Stewart, and Colin Meurk published an article in the New Zealand Landscape Review titled: “Low Impact Urban Design and Development (LIUDD): Matching Urban Design and Urban Ecology.” They recognised New Zealand’s poor history in applying ecological principles to landscape design, which has led to the depreciation of native biodiversity, landscape legibility, and the tidal wave of invasive exotic organisms. Global trends, such as rewilding in the UK, nurture communities that respect, conserve, and enhance natural processes. This is not easy, as ingrained cultural perceptions of our relationship with ecology are complex. As put by Joan Nassauer in her article Messy Ecosystems, Tidy Frames:

    “People may care about improving ecological quality, but not at the expense of the proper perception of their own landscape”

    Socio-cultural norms borne from the picturesque design movement still drive perceptions of how landscapes should appear, more than 200 years after they were conceived. To see an iconic picturesque landscape, take a glance at this article on Stourhead Gardens in England. These preconceived values, lack of diversity, and cost-driven urban development result in homogenised, unlively neighbourhoods; perfect habitats for Cthulhu-esque, eldritch beings to consume lonely creatures’ fears in, but less perfect for our native flora and fauna.

    Two key methods of Low Impact Urban Design and Development were identified to address these issues: designing for sense of place (to improve public perceptions), and for native biodiversity. As an example, Ignatieva and colleagues suggest the use of ‘plant signatures’ in suburban design. These signatures are assortments of plants that provide context clues of the landscape; species are chosen deliberately to represent the ecological needs and habitat functions of that environment. This contrasts with most plant selections which are often driven by cost, function, or amenity driven calculations. Character and identity are inherent in an ecologically aware plant palette, and designers worth their salt should demonstrate this in thoughtful design choices.

    A stormwater system in Te Whāriki subdivision, Lincoln. Image: Author. All rights reserved.

    These ideas have been present for decades: plant signatures were coined by Nick Robinson in 1993, and Ignatieva and colleagues’ article was published 16 years ago. So, what effect have Low Impact Urban Design and Development and plant signatures had on increasing urban biodiversity? I met with Colin Meurk, one of the authors, to hear his thoughts. “Low Impact Urban Design and Development is pretty much history, apart from the legacy effect,” he said. “We use different jargon now.” Oh. Right.

    The thing is, just because ideas are innovative does not mean they are embraced and applied. In places, Low Impact Urban Design and Development has successfully evolved– Meurk points to stormwater design and ‘sponge cities’ as evidence that ecological concepts can assimilate successfully into current landscape practice.

    Te Whāriki in Lincoln is a great example of this: as a result of high clay soil and ground-fed springs, this subdivision needs to detain high levels of stormwater. The standard method to do so is with large grass-mown basins, such as those seen down the road in Wigram. Instead, Te Whāriki is designed with extensive wetland systems that support a wide range of native plants, bird species, and invertebrates. The wetlands also provide excellent public spaces, with walking tracks, seating, and street-inter-connectivity. My own parents chose Te Whāriki as their new home in 2022 specifically for the wetlands!

    A path through a stormwater system in Te Whāriki subdivision, Lincoln. Image: Adrian Paterson.

    Yet, ecological principles within suburban design are the exception rather than the rule. Is this because ecological action is still viewed in opposition of cultural values, as Nassauer would suggest? Is it that policy makers do not sufficiently emphasise ecological principles, or because developers dislike the financial ‘deadweight’ of ecological oriented design?

    I would suggest all three, although there is greater nuance and complexity than I have room to explore here. Notably, Te Whāriki was developed by Ngāi Tahu in conjunction with Lincoln University, both parties whom have a vested interest in increasing biodiversity in the region.

    It is disquieting that a common expression of modern living is easily utilised as a metaphor for horror and loneliness. What does it say about modern design that it can easily parallel horror and fear? When we met, Colin Meurk labelled modern subdivisions as an ‘extinction of experience’.

    Younger generations are often criticised for spending too much time on technology, but when they live in lonely neighbourhoods, can we blame them? In failing to design for biodiversity, we rob ourselves of opportunities to experience the natural world. Low Impact Urban Design and Development may have been subsumed into other concepts, but designing in a manner conducive to the natural world and people is more relevant than ever. Plant signatures are an excellent method to incorporate biodiversity and character in our suburbs. Birds, invertebrates, reptiles – they would love to take part in our neighbourhoods, and I, for one, would prefer a lively neighbourhood over a horrifying, lonely suburbia.

    Life provides. Image: Author. All rights reserved.

    This article was prepared by Master of Science postgraduate student Nathan Campbell as part of the ECOL608 Research Methods in Ecology course.

    Reference Article: Ignatieva, M., Meurk, C. D., & Stewart, G. H. (2008). Low impact urban design and development (LIUDD) : matching urban design and urban ecology. Landscape Review 12(2):61-73.

  • Buried treasure: the hidden gems of alpine peatland

    Growing up, I had a fascination with pirates.

    I’m not sure if it was the fact that they stole buried treasure, sailed the seven seas, and broke all the rules or if I liked that they used the term “swashbuckling” to describe themselves. All I know is that I wanted to be exactly like Captain Jack Sparrow. Granted, Johnny Depp does quite well at making Jack Sparrow seem like the best and worst pirate at the same time, which definitely influences the likeability and comedy factor of the character.

    Peat Area in Perigi village, Pangkalan Lampam District, Ogan Komering Ilir Regency.
    Photo by Rifky/CIFOR cifor.org, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0 (Flickr)

    For the majority of the first Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl, Sparrow, with the help of his slightly awkward, bumbling, and unlikely traveling companion, Will Turner (played by Orlando Bloom), attempts to chase down his precious pirate ship and crew of the Black Pearl.

    To steal back his ship and find treasure along the way, Sparrow and Turner must make their way through various tunnels and streams until they finally reach the be-all-and-end-all of all treasure rooms, full of the loot that the pirates have collected over the years.

    Oftentimes, to get to these places of “great treasure”, the pirates would use maps to find the hidden jewels they so desired, and if they were underground, well, they would dig for them!

    But what if hidden gems are not always jewels?

    Even Sparrow, the death-defying pirate who escapes prison, steals ships, drinks copious amounts of rum and loves treasure, says:

    “Not all treasure is silver and gold, mate.”

    Treasure is “wealth stored up or hoarded, something of great worth or value” and “a collection of precious things,” according to Merriam-Webster Dictionary. In terms of natural resources, water is a treasure.

    Water is crucial for humans. Water is also a critical worldwide currency and supports life as we know it. Beyond using water for cooking, cleaning, or washing, water is critical for supporting agricultural crops, farms and, therefore, our food sources. In many communities, water also has a spiritual value, more than a monetary or physical value. In New Zealand, the Whanganui River even has personhood status, highlighting just how important water is.

    Considered a natural treasure, water is extremely precious in dry, arid regions with little rainfall or annual precipitation, meaning plants and animals must adapt to limited water sources. The same applies to agriculture; farmers must adapt in dry regions, using water sparingly and wisely. In these regions, it is essential to understand where water comes from and goes to and how it is potentially stored underground upstream from agricultural land.

    Buried treasure, some might say.

    In the arid Chilean Andes, this treasure is buried in mountain peatland.

    Peatlands are wetlands with layers of compact and partially decomposed plants and organic material (i.e., dead and decaying plants) in water-logged soil. If you’ve heard of the “Tollund Man” (a well-preserved body from the Iron Age), then you’ve heard of peatland. Peatland may have standing water or vast swaths of very soggy ground, as pictured below. This makes it difficult to immediately understand their capacities to hold water.

    Great Kemeri Bog, Latvia. Photo by: Runa S. Lindebjerg, CC BY 2.0 (Flickr)

    Shelly MacDonell (Lincoln University) and a team led by Remi Valois and Nicole Schaffer investigated the ability of Chilean peatland in the Elqui Valley to store water and estimated its role in delivering water to agricultural areas via streams.

    The researchers chose a peatland (bofedal) in Spanish, called “Piuquenes” for their study because of its central location compared to surrounding peatlands and its elevation (approximately 3000 meters above sea level), making it a great representation of other Chilean alpine peatlands. This peatland was also chosen based on a proposal to place a dam at the edge of Piuquenes for agricultural water control downstream.

    To study the inner workings of Piuquenes, the researchers had to look below the surface. Picture someone on the beach using a metal detector to find potentially valuable items under the surface (like a modern-day pirate), and that is a very simplified view of the tools used to visualize the geology and structure of the peatland below the surface. However, using Ground Penetrating Radar (GPR) and Electrical Resistivity Tomography (ERT), the researchers were able to create a 3D image of what might be under the surface. Through this 3D image, they could calculate the potential storage capacity (volume) of the studied peatland and estimate the role of high-alpine peatland in the area’s water cycle.

    According to estimates by researchers, the peatland itself could hold between 164,000 and 243,000m3 of water. That’s between 66 and 97 Olympic-sized swimming pools worth of water!

    The study found that the Piuquenes peatland can actually contribute water to lower agricultural regions downstream. However, the peatland is also vulnerable to water loss through evapotranspiration, which is a fancy word for water that evaporates and is lost from the vegetation and soil.

    Despite this water loss, researchers determined that Piuquenes was still important for supporting the surrounding ecosystems and could still act as a significant reservoir (i.e., source of water) for downstream agriculture and livestock grazing. They also discovered that the peatland could shield the area from drought impacts because of its water capacity. This means Piuquenes peatland could deliver water to grazing and low land agricultural areas via streams and limit the most severe effects of drought even in low-rain seasons.

    In addition to storing water, the Piuquenes peatland can also help produce soil from the slow build-up of decaying plants, store carbon, help plants grow and provide watered grazing areas for livestock.

    Understanding the inner workings of Piuquenes advances our knowledge of high-alpine peatland and its natural benefits to lowland agriculture. This study also adds valuable information to the discussion of if and how a dam should be built at the edge of this high-alpine peatland.

    Piuquenes, although located in the Chilean Andes, is an excellent example of how critical preserving and conserving peatlands worldwide.

    Studies have further investigated the secrets and treasures of peatlands, such as the carbon storage capacity, internal chemistry and nutrient cycling effects on methane emissions, proving that peatland continues to be a valuable ecosystem and that there is indeed treasure hidden beneath the surface.

    Peatland in Torronsuo National Park, Tammela, Finland. Photo by: Tero Laakso, CC BY 2.0 (Flickr)

    Current efforts have also focused on how to conserve these valuable landscapes and how local management initiatives could be applied worldwide. For example, Global Peatlands Initiative is a group dedicated to informing people about the importance of peatlands and keeping you updated on peatlands around the world.

    I’m pretty sure Jack Sparrow wasn’t referring to peatland as the treasure in his quote about silver and gold, but he was on the right track. If only he had known about the inconspicuous treasure hidden in the high reaches of the Andes!

    So, next time you’re on a swashbuckling adventure, keep your eyes open for what might be lurking under the surface and could be even more precious than silver or gold.

    This article was prepared by Master of International Nature Conservation student Alaina Eckert as part of the ECOL608 Research Methods in Ecology course.

    P.S. Here is a really cool (and short) video about Peatland Protection from the UN!