We have a bit of a thing for urban biodiversity. After all, it proves that natural plant communities and ecosystems have got some fight in them - sometimes quite a lot of fight. It also does away with the notion of nature comprising places that are inherently separate to human settlement.

One example that we recently visited on Auckland’s North Shore demonstrated this juxtaposition ably; with the cast-offs of urban detritus standing right next to a nationally threatened herb, Leptinella tenella, that has somehow managed an unfeasible act of survival along the margins of this urban stream.

L. tenella finds its advantage in the dynamic zone where flooding frequently clears away competing vegetation – including exotic weeds. A ribbon-like remnant tracing a narrow band less than 5m from the monoculture of mown Council lawns and the backyards of suburbia. 

The Seaward Kaikouras are not for the faint-hearted. After several hours walking, and many turns up ravines, we made our way up to one of the most extraordinary landscapes that I have ever visited. 

George Stream is possibly the major stronghold for the weeping tree broom, Carmichaelia stevensonii.; a spectacular species that is popular in cultivation in southern parts of NZ, but is rarely encountered in the wild. As with many other members of the bean family (Fabaceae), C. stevensonii favours disturbed or open habitats, which in this case is generated by the vigorous uplift of this mountain range – coupled with some active tectonics.

My previous trip to this large population of Carmichaelia stevensonii happened in a shroud of mist that is a common event here (as moisture-laden clouds are lodged on these steep mountains). The combination of copious water vapour and gravity goes some way towards explaining the pronounced weeping form of this species – which is similar to the role of drip tips in neo-tropical cloud forests. On our trip late last year (once again accompanied by Winston Dewhirst), George Stream showed a different side of itself, with brilliant blue skies. 

How does one manage the encore to an ephemeral wetland in the midst of a vast tussockland ? In truth, this wasn’t much of a concern, as we had already had a great couple of days being shown around various parts of Macraes Flat by Mike Thorsen.

That said, the hunt for an inconspicuous native grass within overhangs of Nenthorn (an isolated area once populated by gold miners) was a fine way to spend a day. When I start banging on about botany, distraction can be a welcome diversion for David – and on this occasion, he found just that in the shape of Michael Shepherd reduced down to a beard and a hat against the backdrop of Nenthorn’s expansive grassland and sky.

The aforementioned inconspicuous grass, Simplicia laxa, is a subtle character with a fascinating back-story. Now critically endangered, this inhabitant of shady habitats finds refuge within overhangs; not necessarily because it prefers to occupy these habitats, but because they are the few places that offer the conditions that it would probably have found within the dry forests that were once widespread throughout Otago.