Our new young hens were shocked to see little green shoots emerging from the blanket of brown leaves in the back yard. Not just grass. Clover. Dandelions and fawn lilies. Oh yes, Japanese knotweed, too, delicious when it’s small and tender.

Scratch a bit here, peck a bit there, discuss it with a friend. It was fun to watch their curiosity turn to glee.

Turns out we’ve been «rewilding» our four acres over the past 30 years. Not that we knew what to call it; we just wanted nature around us. So we planted trees, as many different kinds as possible, bushes and other plants.

Then about five years ago, we joined the no-mow-May movement, to give bees and other pollinators a source of food at a time when flowers are scarce. (Yes, dandelions are flowers, too!)
Then we learned about rewilding, and discovered we really don’t need to create a green desert lawn in any of the other months, either.

Yes, I’m talking deserts. There’s a whole movement of people aiming to remedy the monoculture lawns of the 1950s, with their artificial fertilizer, weedkillers, and mowing. They mean to rescue nature, one yard at a time, urban and rural. Cemeteries, too, or balconies and window boxes.

In a TED Talk last summer, Isabella Tree gave three tips to re-wild your yard. First, she said, the earth is not flat; lumps and bumps provide sun and shade for small animals. We’ve built a few small hills by piling up compost or old branches. Or you could build a bump by mixing old building materials with sand, and covering it with compost.

Second, think like a herbivore. If you mow, be a cow; nibble here and there, and leave some areas long. Mix it up. Variety is natural. If you have an invasive species crowding out everything else, be a wild bore and root it out.

Third, Ms. Tree said, find life in death. Leave dead trees, branches and old leaves lie around. They provide habitat for small animals and natural fertilizer for next year, and the seed-heads are food for winter birds.

In short, she said, think of yourself as a «keystone species» whose job is to restore your ecosystem. It’s the least we can do.

«It’s more than romance. It’s science,» I tell our hens. They pay no mind. They’re too busy rewilding themselves.

Rachel writes from Newport.