Peter Healy tells about a tree planting project on the sacred site of Pukekaraka Ōtaki.

WE ARE IN THE Season of Creation/Te Wā Orokohanga and it’s a good time to reflect on our ongoing community work of returning pasture to forest — a practice of loving creation and letting justice and peace flow through the whenua.

Ko te mauri he mea huna ki te ngāherehere.
The mauri is hidden in the forest

It’s now tangaroa-ā-roto, the last quarter of the moon, and in tune with the Māori lunar calendar, it’s time to get on with the work of tree planting.

We’re conscious of mauri — the life force — on the winter’s day we gather for tree planting. The land awaits and we are committed to working together. We’re seeding the land for a future that will be green-leafed and habitat-rich. In our opening karakia/prayer we are encouraged by ancestral connection, the presence of past and trusting in the future ... tihei-wā mauri ora!

We acknowledge that we’re in the realm of mauri/life force of the trees and plants unique to Aotearoa — akeake, mānuka, māhoe, karo, ngaio, karo and harakeke — that will hold and protect the site and ready it for bigger trees in the future. Through mauri we are present to the essence of things, to their being and vitality, their continuity and connectivity with te wao tapu nui o Tāne/the sacred forest of Tāne. The interrelated tikanga of tapu/sacredness, hau/breath, wairua/spirit and mana/dignity are the vital forces of well-being and generativity of Papatūānuku — the life-sustaining forces in which we are held and carried.

Our tree planting is part of a long-term endeavour to shift land from pastoral grazing into forest cover — hard but worthwhile work, especially on steep land unsuitable for stock. It is the whenua/land of Ngāti Kapu and this endeavour is a journey for us. We are learning by doing.

We have already had several working bees on the land to remove the aged hawthorns entangled with gorse — both introduced to this area decades ago. The clearing was difficult and at times a risk to life and limb on the steep slopes. Once we’d cleared the site we discussed what we’d do with the remaining pasture grass. Should we spray the whole site? The grass was in its dormant winter phase so would it be ok to plant directly into it? Or should we spray individual planting spots ready for each tree? In the end we chose to plant directly into the grass. We knew we’d have to manage the new trees into spring and summer. We’re all learning to trust the land’s integrity as we participate in its unfolding towards becoming a forest.

Kotahi karihi nāna ko te wao tapu nui a Tāne
The creation of the sacred forest of Tāne is from a single kernel

Like the seed that starts a forest, we knew our project would need to start small and that we’d need to work out all the unknowns and uncertainties we’d encounter along the way. We’re practising being “good ancestors” in the hope of a forest for future generations. Tāne, the atua Māori of persistence and integrity, is the guardian. We trust in the regenerative processes unique to this land. We are sowers of a sacred forest of the future, co-operating with the flourishing of life around us and ahead of us. We work filled with hope, gratitiude and karakia.

We hope for the spring rains to water the little trees on the fast-draining sandhill. Because the site faces south-east, it will not suffer the intense summer heat and we’re grateful for that “aspect” on our side.

We’ve all gathered — whānau, community groups and parishoners for tree planting. Our first task is to move the trees across a muddy paddock and carry them up to our site. We have energy and experience on our side.

We sort the plants. Some trees are root bound and others are too small for planting this season. I overhear conversations. Have we been given the right ngaio trees or are these Tasmanian ngaio, which we don’t want? Then the karo tree: We’ll need to be careful as it can be invasive and take over a site. Maybe the karo will create a pittosporum desert?

After consideration we decide to plant all the ngaio and swap some of the karo for harakeke. Ideally we’d love to have our own nursery so that we’d have full control of seed sources, tree types and planting. These are just some of our considerations as we participate in restoring what’s been broken and lost in this whenua.

The children from the local kura/school arrived after the weekend to plant harakeke. We showed them how to plant a tree — how to dig the right sized hole, free up bound roots, space the trees correctly on site and add the fertilizer tablets. The children now know these trees, and their generation and later generations will enjoy the forest they’re beginning on this whenua.

Kia kaha tātou ngā kaimahi whakatō rākau!
Strength and power to the tree planters!

Our working together on this restoration project is a practical contribution to Creation. At this time when almost half Earth’s forests have been destroyed, returning what has been taken is doing justice. Our native forests have diminished, so we welcome the opportunity to participate in the peace of wild things and the integrity of creation. We plant in the hope that our trees will grow safely and be one of many gateways to a life-sustaining world.

Our work in the domain of te tapu o te wao nui a Tāne/the integrity of the great forest of Tāne will not be lost. We are resisting everything that diminishes life and loving all that sustains life. At this time when creation groans under so many travails, we trust our tree planting extends our love of the wholeness of creation like a mighty river of transformation.

E ngā māhuri hou, e ngā māhuri tau, kia tupu, kia hua, kia puāwai i tēnei wā morearea.
To our new attractive little trees; grow, flourish and flower in this time of crisis.

Tui Motu Magazine. Issue 285 September 2023: 8-9