Weeding for the Wild: Humans’ Role as a Keystone Species

On Lord Howe the locals may not be “indigenous” but the island’s present and future definitely depend on people. And Lord Howe has “first peoples” with up to eight generations of knowledge to share about looking after the place. Like all species, humans have a role to play in ecosystems. And in a changing climate especially, we have a responsibility to be a keystone species - one that protects, repairs and helps Country to adjust and adapt. This is an argument for community stewardship - the kind you see in islanders like Jack Shick and Ian Hutton working with volunteers from the mainland.

Volunteering for conservation at Lord Howe last week, we worked a rainforest patch where drought had toppled shallow-rooted canopy trees. When the light returned, native vines had surged and were smothering the next generation. The right intervention, for once, was subtraction: we cut vines off saplings so vertical structure could rebuild before the next dry spell. Human hands, guided by science and local knowledge, nudged the forest back to resilience.

Along the shore line we took on morning glory - a deceptively pretty, but relentlessly smothering weed. We hauled two truckloads out and painted the suckers with herbicide so they wouldn’t bounce straight back. Elsewhere we pulled Norfolk Island pine seedlings where they didn’t belong. Small, careful and targeted acts with a big cumulative effect on an island that already has more than 35 invasive plants vying for space.

On his restoration block, Jack Shick has already planted hundreds of canopy trees across former cow paddocks. It’s simple ecology and smart strategy: canopy first. As shade closes, light, heat and wind drop, leaf-litter builds, soil holds moisture, and the natural seed bank activates. The native understory starts to out-compete invaders without constant intervention. One good decision tips the whole system back towards self-repair. We gave him a hand to extend that work.

Lord Howe is a story of how, as humans, we can play a role and have responsibilities as a keystone species. The community first removed goats, pigs and cats. In 2015 they stared down the hardest choice of all - eradicating rats and mice from a permanently inhabited World Heritage–listed island. This was a world first. And they chose courage. The 2019 operation succeeded, and Lord Howe is now an international beacon for what community-led conservation can achieve. The payoff is everywhere - woodhens in the yard, palms recruiting in the gullies, invertebrates returning to niches that were silent for decades.

This is exactly what Lyrebird Dreaming stands for: Country and community working together. It’s not about profits or bank accounts. It’s about lending our hands and our heads where ecosystems need them. On Lord Howe that looks like islanders and visitors hand-weeding, planting, monitoring and holding the line on biosecurity so nature can thrive.

Global challenges like climate change and plastic pollution are rewriting the rulebook. Our role as humans is to listen to the land, act with humility, and do the things that keep options open for Nature. On Lord Howe, that looks like Jack’s plantings taking the heat out of old paddocks, a cliff line cleared of morning glory, and a sapling freed to become tomorrow’s shade. Multiply that by a community, and you get recovery. Multiply it by a nation, and you get hope.

Later this week: My final post will be about rewilding the island as a potential next step. Could Boobook owls, parakeets or songbirds come back next?

Islander Jack Shick and volunteers revegetating former dairy land.

A wooden inspecting our work.

Freeing canopy saplings from weeds and vines.