How I Accidentally Fed an Entire Rabbit Colony
Confessions of a Naive Reveg Enthusiast
There’s nothing quite like the optimism of a first-time reveg project. You imagine lush native grasses swaying in the breeze, birdsong filling the air, and wildlife joyfully returning to a thriving ecosystem. You picture yourself strolling through your property, nodding wisely at the flourishing landscape, maybe even giving a knowing glance to a passing echidna (this actually happened), as if to say, Yes, my friend, I did this.
And then reality hits.
Rabbits eat your freshly planted shrubs. Weeds launch an aggressive takeover. Half your plants die before they’ve had a chance to settle in. And watering? Ha. You realise very quickly that planting a thousand plants is one thing—keeping them alive is a whole other battle.
So, if you’re thinking of rewilding your patch of land, let me save you some of the trouble (and heartbreak) by sharing what I’ve learned—the hard way.
1. Rabbits Are Not Your Friends (No Matter How Cute They Look)
When we first started revegetating, we didn’t think too much about rabbits. We thought, Eh, how much damage can a few little bunnies really do?
The answer: a lot.
They ate everything. The tube stock, the grasses, the shrubs. They worked faster than we could plant, like a furry plague of locusts. It wasn’t until we got serious—really serious—about rabbit control that we saw any real progress. Now, we make it a priority to remove them before we plant and of course protect them with plants.
If you’re battling rabbits, do it first. Not later. Not “after a few plants have gone in.” First.
We’ve seen just how much native vegetation returns once rabbits are removed! BONUS
2. Soil Preparation is Everything
Weeds are opportunists. They see a bare patch of earth and think, Fantastic, I’ll take that. If you plant into uncleared, weedy ground, your poor natives don’t stand a chance. They’ll be outcompeted for water, sunlight, and nutrients before they’ve even gotten comfortable.
Now, we properly clear planting sites beforehand. That means poisoning invasive weeds in advance and, crucially, keeping up with the weeding afterwards. I used to think, Once a plant is in, it’s sorted! Nope. Weeding is an ongoing commitment—kind of like going to the gym, but with fewer treadmills and more sweat.
3. Holes Matter (And So Does Water)
Our first planting efforts involved digging a small hole, popping in the plant, giving it a quick water, and hoping for the best. Turns out, that’s a great way to kill plants.
Now, we dig wide, deep bowls around every plant—big enough to hold 10–15 litres of water. This helps rain soak into the soil rather than running off. We also pre-water the ground before planting, then give each plant a proper drink at the start. Think of it as giving them a long drink before a very long hike.
4. Not All Plants Are Created Equal
In our enthusiasm, we said yes to any native plants we could get our hands on, assuming that if it was an Aussie plant, it would be fine. This was… not true.
Local provenance is key. If a plant’s ancestors didn’t evolve in your specific area, it might struggle (or die). We learned to source plants and seeds from our exact region to give them the best shot at survival. And now, instead of relying solely on bought plants, I collect and propagate seeds from the land itself. There’s something deeply satisfying about seeing a plant flourish that started from a seed you gathered with your own hands.
5. Start Small (Unless You Want to Spend Your Life Watering)
Early on, we thought: Let’s plant everything, everywhere!
This was a mistake.
Watering a large number of plants is exhausting, especially on a big property. We quickly learned to focus on key areas—places we could actually get to with a hose or bucket. Now, instead of scattering plants across the whole property, we plant in zones that we can realistically care for. Once those establish, we expand.
6. Those Plastic Plant Guards? They Don’t Last Forever
You know those green tree guards? The ones you put around your precious plants to stop wallabies and wind from destroying them? Turns out, many of them disintegrate into microplastics over time—especially in extreme heat.
Since we live by the Bremer River, we had to remove all the degrading guards before they polluted the water. It was a painful lesson, and now we’re switching to more sustainable options.
7. Nature Plays the Long Game
I used to think that if I put a plant in the ground, it would just grow.
What I didn’t realise was that plants from tube stock often struggle to establish in harsh soils. Meanwhile, seeds—especially those from local provenance—just sit in the soil, waiting for the perfect conditions. They might take a year or two to germinate, but when they do, they thrive.
Now, I use native seeds a lot more. They’re cheaper, easier to plant at scale, and they know when it’s time to grow. It’s like nature’s version of scheduled programming.
8. Don’t Do It Alone
For a while, I thought I had to do everything myself. I’d spend hours planting, watering, and weeding solo. But revegetation isn’t just about restoring the land—it’s about restoring relationships too.
Now, we hold planting days with friends. There’s something special about coming together, hands in the soil, working towards a shared vision. People love helping—especially when it involves good food, a few drinks, and the promise of seeing nature return.
Lessons I've Learned (So You Don't Have To)
If I were starting over, here's what I'd do differently:
Sort the rabbits first. Everything else is pointless until you've addressed your furry little saboteurs.
Prepare the soil properly. Poison the weeds before planting and keep weeding regularly to reduce competition.
Create proper water basins. Plants need a good drink, not a passing sprinkle.
Use local provenance plants and seeds. They actually want to live where you're putting them.
Focus on manageable areas. Better to succeed in small patches than fail spectacularly across your entire property.
Make it social. Invite friends to help – people genuinely enjoy being part of something meaningful, and it makes the work lighter.
Collect your own seeds. There's something deeply satisfying about harvesting seeds from your own property and watching them grow into the next generation of plants.
The Best Reward? Seeing Life Come Back
One of the greatest moments of my life was seeing a flash of red in the paddock—a diamond firetail. I hadn’t seen one here before, but there it was, along with a whole flock.
That was the moment I knew: the land was healing.
Rewilding isn’t quick. It isn’t easy. It’s a long game filled with sweat, setbacks, and surprises. But every time I hear new birdsong or see a native species return, I know it’s worth it.
So, if you’re thinking about revegetating, my advice is simple:
Take your time. Start small. Learn from your mistakes. And most importantly—keep going.
Because one day, when you least expect it, nature will give you a nod to say: You’re on the right track mate.
