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One Square Meter

Chris Caines

As the resident of a traditional Edwardian weatherboard house from the turn of last century I am burdened and blessed with a front and back yard. Not having the desire to transform these areas via landscaping, gardening or other types of terraforming into productive spaces they remain as they have for 120 years, covered in lawn. Comprised of a wide variety of grasses and at the micro level inhabited by a bewildering variety of insects.

Although the house and I are situated a few hundred metres from the edge of the vast Jamison Valley it is these small grassy spaces that fascinate. Staring into the back lawn while drinking morning coffee, the small area near the back step teems with the activity of a Bruegel painting. As a seven year old our school class was taken to a wetland in Cattai National Park where each of us was given a cordoned off one metre square area in which to note all of the living things that space contained. I’ve no memory of the rest of that day (or that year) but that one exercise continues to inform the ways I engage with the natural world.

So very focused on the micro world, it was a few years before I noticed the apex predator of the yard that reappears every summer, the wolf spider. The dark webbed nesting holes in the lawn (let alone the name) were enough to trigger mild arachnophobia even in an environment where dozens of varieties festoon the house. Having managed not to poison the nests on sight I’m now noticing how they appear year to year according to conditions. They like the dry and there are far fewer this year in La Nina, in fact it looks like you might drown in heavy rain in those nests. This year you can see nests under eaves and not in the open yard where they were during the drought years. With extraordinary vision (eight eyes!) and impressive bursts of speed in solo nocturnal hunts they seem suited to the open lawn.