Growing with Nature

In Kerala’s Wayanad district, Gurukula Botanical Sanctuary (GBS) is an inspiring example of a successful habitat restoration project. The lush green 70-acre land was once a stretch of dull, degraded ridges and valleys. Flanked by Wayanad’s tea estates, this large asymmetrical land parcel in the Western Ghats is now a mix of young and old rainforests, grasslands, wetlands, riparian forests, patches of farmland, garden areas with ornamental flora, and former tea plantations.

The transformation and rewilding of this land began in 1971 when Wolfgang Theuerkauf, a German man, advised by his spiritual guru, set up an ashram here. Around 1979-80, he realised that the habitat had been degrading at a rapid pace and the indigenous plants needed immediate restoration and conservation. The gradual process began with Theuerkauf looking for and rescuing specific plants from neighbouring areas — the first, an epiphytic orchid. He did this with the help of neighbours like farmers and tribals who were already familiar with the forest. Soon, he began caring for adjacent patches of land and letting them rewild. Together with his wife, Leelamma, GBS was formally created in 1981.

Teamwork

Today GBS is run by the Munnarakkunnu Trust, a private trust and community of approximately 35 “ecosystem gardeners ” — the restorers and protectors of this land. They continue to follow in Theuerkauf’s footsteps, i.e., leaving patches of land to rewild on their own and caring for and reviving others in their “botanical sanctuary”. What I see today is a result of four decades of community care, with the habitat reciprocating the love shown to it.

Suprabha Seshan, conservationist and custodian of GBS, compares the sanctuary to a healthcare facility. “If the plants keep moving from the general ward to an outplanted habitat mimicking their natural habitat, then the ICU can focus on the critical ones,” she explains. Gardeners have transplanted many critical plants, which are at risk of extinction or further losing their already diminishing population, to rewilded habitats after caring for them and observing their growth response. “Sometimes we need to try different spots until we see that they are responding well,” she adds. These decisions are often made by Laly Joseph, senior gardener, who shares a special bond with the plants. Joseph, who trained under Theuerkauf, now trains and guides the other gardeners. 

Sheds of Life

GBS’s 70 acres of land comprise diverse habitats with at least 2,000 native plant species, including orchids, ferns, trees, aquatic plants, creepers, and succulents. Perhaps the best way to explore this is by walking the easily accessible visitor’s trail in the rainforest. The trail starts at the GBS main gate and is designed almost like a terraced farm with stone stairs revealing various trees and plant life on its path. There are many plant sheds along this path. For me, the orchidarium and fernarium stand out. In the bromeliad shed, I notice leaves with little puddles of water in their centre. Seena, who has been a part of the GBS family for 18 years and conducts guided walks, explains that she often sees frogs in these small pools. Further, I see an assortment of begonia species and hybrids. Adjacent, is an area with plants of the Urticaceae family. A closer look at their leaves reveals stinging hair or nettles which can cause a prickly sensation when touched.

The carnivorous plants shed is a short walk away. There, I meet Lakshmi and Sini Mol, who have intricate and challenging tasks every day. This shed houses many carnivorous as well as non-carnivorous plants. Today I see them potting some non-carnivorous plants. In the initial stages, some of these plants need rocky surfaces to grow. Others need to be transplanted into a pot with coconut husks or small rocks with a mix of stones, gravel, and sand. Lakshmi and Sini have learnt to study and repot each plant according to its individual requirements. 

Walking up from the carnivorous shed we arrive at the big and guarded Impatiens seed shed, with at least a hundred varieties of the flowering plant. They are carefully potted, labelled, and nurtured. A thick fibre roof shields them from the rain. The shed is enclosed on all sides with sturdy meshes that keep rodents and other creatures out.

As I leave the visitor’s trail and walk towards the community kitchen, Seshan says, “Every inaction is an action.” By that, she means that nature sometimes just needs to be left alone. She points to the steps in front of us and says, “These stairways are the favourite perches for mosses, herbs, and other small flowering plants.” Laterite walls, rocky surfaces, and stairs, all become habitats that support life when left alone.

On another day, I explore the area above the community kitchen. The grasslands are a completely different habitat from what I have seen in GBS so far. The stout patches of Strobilanthes are shorter than my knee. At a distance, I see lemongrass jutting out and behind it, shrubs that work as a green fence. Standing in this habitat, surrounded by thick forest cover, I look around and realise I am probably at the highest point of GBS.

The following day, I walk into a part of this dense forest cover with Jaimon, who has been a part of Green Phoenix (GP) since its inception. GP is a community-based project, also under the Munnarakkunnu Trust, that focuses on land care and sustainable restoration practices, including cleaning and maintenance of River Cauvery’s headwaters (called Kallampuzha in this part of Kerala). “We cleaned the river and stopped dynamite fishing in this part of the river,” shares Jaimon on our walk towards the river.

A day later, while walking with Sajji and Pradeep to the old forest, I have a closer experience with the river. We cross the roaring river on a two-bamboo bridge to make our way into the old forest, where the sound of cicadas greets us. This ancient forest dates back hundreds of years. “We believe that the gods dwell here,” adds Sajji, who is from the Paniya community, for whom the forest is culturally sacred.

As we go deeper into the forest, we cross several woody liana vines and wild evergreen trees to finally meet the “mother tree”, as the locals call it. Calophyllum apetalum (Cherupunna in Malayalam) is an evergreen tree endemic to the Western Ghats. “We worship this tree,” says Sajji. 

Green wonderland

On my last day in this rainforest ecosystem, Seshan and I walk beyond the grasslands to a point from where I can see a continuous patch of forest cover. “Till 1996 there was lantana growing here. Then a ginger plantation. We rewilded this patch, and now this is what we have,” she says.

The gardeners’ commitment to conservation runs deep. Most gardeners tell me that the trees and plants are their family. Jaimon asserts “water is life” in our conversations. Others like Sajji and Pradeep worship the old forest and its beings. Seshan thinks that “this could be one of the oldest and largest botanical refuges in the country.”

From brown and bare, this area has been transformed into a green abode with 2,000 endemic plant species, including orchids, ferns, trees, aquatic plants, climbers, and succulents. It also harbours dozens of species of mammals and reptiles, hundreds of species of birds, and numerous butterflies and insects. GBS is a brilliant example of what a healthy relationship with nature can look like.