3 minute read
ROUGH MILNE MITCHELL
TONY MILNE Rough Milne Mitchell Landscape Architects
FROM THE MOUNTAINS TO THE SEA, TONY MILNE FROM ROUGH MILNE MITCHELL FOLLOWS THE BRAIDED RIVERS OF THE SOUTH ISLAND, TRACING THE CHANGING LANDSCAPE AND RESTORING ECOSYSTEMS. This may seem a little odd, but how good does a braided river look?
I do have a soft spot for the force and volume of the Clutha River/Matu-Au. There is something alluring about its almost languid rhythm. A conduit of flow that does not look back. However, as mighty Matu-Au is, a braided river, it is not. The Rakaia and Waimakariri rivers that flow across the plains of Waitaha resonate strongly. Defining elements within the arable arrangement of this land. These rivers, fulsome with sediment, hence their braided nature, meander seemingly nonchalantly from the mountains to the sea. Wander they do, through the bluestone-clad walls of the Christchurch Airport too. Fascinating when you consider the components of a braided river system and the life it supports. Apt then, that as I drove to Swimming parkrun last weekend, I lent an ear to Country Life on National Radio. A gem of a radio programme. Last Saturday, the east branch of Glenariffe Stream in Canterbury’s Rakaia upstream Gorge was discussed. Spawning salmon too. Previously this stream had been diverted to convert wetland to pasture, an economic reality of farming at the time. The stream is now being naturalised, and fresh mountain water will once again flow through Glenariffe’s east branch. Pasture is now reverting to wetland. A landscape transforming, and as ‘BJ’ Ensor, who farms Glenariffe Station with her husband Mark, pertinently says, “The land definitely wants to do its own thing here… no matter what we’re doing on top of it, it’s always going to revert or try its best to, in this case, be a wetland”.
This stream is one of the key fishspawning streams in the Rakaia catchment. I learn this as Fish and Games Steve Terry passionately talks about habitat restoration, the life of a salmon and its proclivity for instream clean gravel beds. As we do for clean sheets, I thought.
As I listened, I recalled I once prepared a landscape plan for Steve and his wife Ginny. Fair to say Ginny was the driver of this, and while I discussed roses with her, Steve enjoyed a beer. While in proximity, I am sure his mind was elsewhere. Rather than a blooming Margaret Merril, he was possibly pondering the conundrum of how to track salmon during their three years at sea. Who can blame him?
Still one of the great unknowns in the life of a salmon, maybe it’s more alluring that we don’t know. The fascination of some of my generation to track their offspring on Snap Maps, I do struggle. Oh, for the freedom of the sea, the youth must think.
Like Steve, as landscape architects, we find ourselves involved in some fantastic opportunities at the farm and high-country station scale. Restoring ecosystems, from fencing a waterway through to biodiversity farm planning provides a wonderful lens to our future productive landscape of Aotearoa.
And back to parkrun. It certainly felt as though I was swimming against the current; relatively easy to track on Snap Maps, though.