I received a postcard in the beginning of spring with the slogan “Plant these to help save the bees,” accompanied by drawings of annuals, perennials and herbs, examples of what to sow to aid or offset bee decline. By saving bees, we are undeniably also saving ourselves, as a decline in pollinator populations directly impacts biodiversity and ecosystem health. 

This past winter, commercial beekeepers in the US reported losing over 60% of their colonies, prompting the need for more investigation into the causes of this decline. Pollinators, which include bees, insects, birds and bats, play a critical role in the fertilisation of 75% of flowering plants and the production of approximately one-third of the food crops we consume. They are vital for maintaining biodiversity and ensuring agricultural sustainability. 

The alternatives to these are either hand pollination or future technology of Autonomous Drone Insects, which is something straight out of the Black Mirror dystopia episode Hated in the Nation.

The decline in pollinator populations is generally attributed to multiple interrelated factors of habitat loss and degradation, pesticide use, climate change and pathogens and parasites. Transferring pollen between stamens of the aubergine plants on my balcony by hand with a paintbrush, I question how to restore a habitat for pollinators. The simple answer seems to be to plant flowers, as this seems to be their natural habitat, bodies covered in pollen grains sipping nectar with their long tongues.

Flower-dense spaces within urban landscapes are usually an ever-rotating monochromatic assortment of plants whose petals add splashes of colour but provide little value to pollinators. Similarly, monocultural agriculture can increase the spread of infectious parasites among bee populations. While visually appealing, these fields often lack the diversity needed to sustain healthy pollinator communities.

I found a strange parallel in the famous poppy field scene in The Wizard of Oz that featured snow made of chrysotile asbestos, a substance once thought harmless but later revealed to be toxic. Surface beauty can conceal hidden risks, whether to bees or to people.

The No Mow May movement encourages no mowing, pesticides, fertilisers or human interventions for a month on areas of grass. This practice is an expression of respect for the natural cycles that have sustained biodiversity for millennia, acknowledging that nature knows best and deserves our patience and attention. Studies show that small wildflower patches in urban areas can be just as effective as natural meadows with a comparable diversity of species found in urban areas. This process of rewilding emphasises minimal human intervention, giving nature the space and time to recover naturally. For pollinators, this involves creating flower-rich environments that provide food, shelter, and breeding grounds. Initiatives such as the Honey Highway in the Netherlands and Bee Roads in the UK have created wildflower corridors that mimic the natural movement patterns of pollinators, providing them with continuous food and shelter. 

Seed bombs have been used as aids for rewilding, a technique that has deep historical and more recent political roots. Farmers in ancient Egypt used clay balls filled with seeds to restore fields after the Nile’s annual flooding; its modern adaptation was accredited to Japanese farmer and philosopher Masanobu Fukuoka in the 1930s. Later it was embraced as an act of resistance and repopulation of otherwise barren or urban landscapes in the 1970s by guerrilla gardening movements in New York City. Living in an arid climate where moisture is scarce, I begin to delve into alternative sowing and planting measures and movements beyond seed bombing that better suit the climatic conditions. Blends of habitat creation that are based loosely on rewilding, through propagating clusters of plants and microecosystems for urban pollinators. It is here that I stumbled across Dutch horticulturist Mien Ruys, who in the late 1940s introduced harmonious plant combination packages. Gardeners were able to replicate her unique plant arrangements at home and embraced a more natural and wild style of gardening, departing from traditional structured methods. A technological version of this, Pollinator Pathways, was commissioned by the Eden Project. This online tool uses algorithms to design gardens tailored to pollinators’ needs, prioritising ecological function over human aesthetic design.

Starting small by thinking beyond companion planting, I choose to germinate seeds that will provide a habitat and food source for pollinators. Less aubergines and peppers are planted in the hope that the salvia, thyme, asters and lavender grown alongside them will aid in their natural pollination. Maybe the laborious yet necessary process of hand pollination can be forgone this summer. I am not rehousing vulnerable wild bee populations like Garnett Puett’s intricate organic sculptures; instead, I am just integrating habitat restoration into my daily life, one potted plant at a time.

By becoming active participants in the restoration of ecosystems, we hope for a more biodiverse and sustainable world. In doing so, we honour the essential role of pollinators and recognise that saving them is, in many ways, an act of reverence for the natural world that sustains us all.

Words by Anna Borrie