The First Five Years of Rewilding: What to Expect as your Urban Ecosystem Takes Root
- Breanna Gunderson
- Jun 5
- 6 min read
Rewilding is not instant.
It’s a slow collaboration between people and place.
The goal is not to create a static scene, but to restore a functioning, self-sustaining ecosystem that supports life above and below ground.

This approach serves more than human aesthetic preferences. A self-sustaining ecosystem cleans the air and water, creates habitat, and stabilizes soil.
Its beauty doesn’t come from manicured shapes or exotic flowers, but from the dynamic, breathing landscape itself—buzzing with insects, evolving seasonally, and benefiting the web of life around it.
The key is to enter into partnership with the land, noticing how it works and giving it what it wants rather than forcing what we want on it.
The transformation during the first five years of an urban rewilding project is profound—but to the casual observer, it may not look like much. It might create a bit of a stir in a neighborhood accustomed to lawn-and-hedge landscaping.
That’s because it often looks a little messy before it starts to look alive.
This guide walks through what to expect—visually, ecologically, and practically—during the first five years of a newly rewilded site in western Oregon, so you can see what success looks like when it's measured in living systems, not in green lawns.
Year 0: Installation – A Rough Beginning

How it looks:
The initial install can feel underwhelming. Young plants go in as plugs or 1-gallon pots, often looking small or wispy. Tree saplings may be just a few feet tall. The ground is usually covered in thick layers of raw arborist chips—coarse, chunky, sometimes a little smelly.
The soil itself may be compacted, light brown, or grayish with little organic matter. It may feel dusty when dry or gluey when wet.
If the site has poor soil structure—and most urban sites do—it’s often necessary to build planting pockets of amended organic soil. These zones might include compost blended with aged bark fines, decomposed leaf mold, and forest floor inoculants to help kickstart microbial life. Even then, the soil is still far from the loamy richness of a mature forest.
Why logs matter:
Incorporating logs and woody debris into the design is essential for long-term forest health. Logs function as nurse logs, holding moisture, moderating soil temperatures, and providing shelter for invertebrates, fungi, and even amphibians.
Over time, their slow decay feeds the soil and creates a biological bridge for plant roots to tap into nutrients. Strategically placed logs also mimic natural disturbance, supporting succession and plant diversity. For dry sites, they can act like sponges, helping young plants survive drought stress.

What’s happening underground:
Don’t be fooled by the slow pace above ground—there’s plenty going on below. Native plants are investing in their roots. These root systems are adaptive and resilient, designed to anchor plants in wildfire-prone, nutrient-poor ecosystems. In this early stage, most growth energy goes toward establishing these root networks, not flashy foliage.
It’s common to see some species drop leaves, wilt, or even appear dead during hot spells. That’s normal. It’s part of the adaptive strategy.
Key species you’ll see:
Achillea millefolium (Yarrow) – Early groundcover, pollinator favorite.
Symphyotrichum subspicatum (Douglas Aster) – Will fill in in wetter areas.
Festuca roemeri (Roemer’s Fescue) – A dry meadow mainstay.
Lupinus rivularis (Riverbank Lupine) – Nitrogen fixer.
Chamerion angustifolium (Fireweed) – Great for disturbed soils, spreads fast.
Aquilegia formosa (Western Columbine) – Delicate, shade-friendly, early to bloom.
At this point, the site may look sparse, but these species are laying the foundation.

Year 1: Root Establishment, Microbial Recovery, and Waiting
How it looks:
Still underwhelming. Some plants may have doubled in size, others might look exactly the same—or smaller. Growth is slow above ground. If the site was planted in spring, you may not see a real burst of foliage until late summer, or even the following spring. The mulch begins to break down and settle, sometimes caving in around plant bases.

Fungi begin to colonize the wood chips. In shaded or moist areas, you may see small mushrooms or cottony mycelial threads under the mulch. These fungi are not a problem—they’re part of the ecosystem’s rebuilding crew.
Ecological signs:
Soil begins to improve in texture and color.
Saprophytic fungi (those that feed on dead wood) take hold.
The first decomposers arrive: isopods, millipedes, springtails.
A few native pollinators visit early bloomers.
Plants showing early vigor:
Eriophyllum lanatum (Oregon Sunshine) – Can bloom in Year 1.
Potentilla gracilis (Slender Cinquefoil) – Quick basal growth.
Camassia quamash (Common Camas) – May leaf out, but typically flowers in Years 2–3.
Root Systems and Foundations: Planning for Proximity
As you select native plants, be mindful of what lies underground. Some roots can damage foundations—others are completely safe.
Avoid planting deep-rooted canopy trees like Pseudotsuga menziesii (Douglas Fir) or Quercus garryana (Oregon White Oak) right next to structures. These species anchor themselves with powerful roots that can exert pressure on foundation walls or lift pavement over time.
On the other hand, many native shrubs and herbaceous perennials have gentle, fibrous root systems. Rosa nutkana (Nootka Rose), Tellima grandiflora (Fringecup), Mahonia nervosa (Cascade Oregon Grape), and Lonicera involucrata (Twinberry) can all be safely planted close to foundations. These species support biodiversity, manage moisture near buildings, and soften hardscapes without threatening stability.
As a rule, keep large trees at least 15–20 feet from buildings. Use compact natives in tight areas.
Year 2: Filling In and the First Real Changes

How it looks:
The space finally starts to “green up.” Gaps shrink. Perennials bulk up. Shrubs form visible structure. If invasive species were adequately managed, natives start to dominate. Some species—especially fast-growing forbs—may appear oversized or sprawl beyond expectations.
Don’t panic. This is part of the adjustment. You’ll also start seeing the effects of light competition as early colonizers begin to yield to shrubs and shade.
Plants peaking in Year 2:
Solidago canadensis (Canada Goldenrod) – Rapid spread, attracts pollinators.
Penstemon serrulatus (Cascade Penstemon) – Early summer color.
Grindelia integrifolia (Gumweed) – Thrives in poor, dry soils.
Symphoricarpos albus (Snowberry) – Begins forming dense thickets.
Year 3: Wildlife Moves In, Plants Shift Roles

How it looks:
This is often the most visibly dramatic year. Small trees and shrubs create true vertical structure. Bird perches appear. Some areas begin to feel enclosed. Flowering is diverse and dense. You’ll hear more buzzing and chirping. Soil smells richer. The site has “energy.”
What's changing:
Shade from young trees alters light availability.
Root competition intensifies underground.
Leaf litter begins to build—a critical process in soil formation.
Some early stars start to fade due to light or root stress.
Ecological activity spikes:
Soil food web stabilizes.
Mycorrhizal fungi spread to tree roots.
Beneficial predators (beetles, spiders, birds) establish themselves.
Water infiltration improves.
Plants defining the space:
Rubus parviflorus (Thimbleberry) – Fast thicket-former.
Aruncus dioicus (Goatsbeard) – Impressive bloom in wet zones.
Acer circinatum (Vine Maple) – Grows into multi-stemmed understory trees.
Tellima grandiflora (Fringecup) – Colonizes shaded spots.
Year 4: Structure, Layers, and Natural Mulching
How it looks:
The rewilded site now looks more like a natural fragment of a Pacific Northwest forest or meadow. Layers are clear: groundcovers, midstory shrubs, canopy starters. Some sunny plants have begun to die back as shade increases. This is a normal and necessary part of ecosystem succession.
What's functioning:
Deciduous species drop enough leaves to mulch themselves.
Dense root systems prevent erosion and runoff.
Minimal intervention is needed to keep weeds down.
Species competition begins to stabilize.
Plants reaching their mature roles:
Physocarpus capitatus (Pacific Ninebark) – Tall, shrubby, full of wildlife.
Polystichum munitum (Sword Fern) – Shady understory filler.
Mahonia nervosa – Evergreen structure, winter forage.
Oxalis oregana (Redwood Sorrel) – Spreads in deep shade.
Year 5: Maturity and Self-Regulation

How it looks:
By now, your site may resemble a small woodland edge, a floodplain thicket, or an upland meadow—depending on your original palette. The space is visually full. It hums with insects. Plants flower in waves, seed heads sway, birds forage.
It doesn’t look like a designed garden. It looks like life.
What’s happening:
Leaf drop replaces mulch application.
Root systems tap deep water reserves.
Soil organic matter increases significantly.
Irrigation is reduced—or eliminated.
Plantings are self-sorting: some fade, others thrive.
Ecological indicators of success:
Soil organic matter increases from <2% to 5–7%.
Resident pollinators, songbirds, and small mammals are present.
Water runoff is negligible.
Weed pressure is low and localized.
You see spontaneous seedlings of native plants—nature planting itself.
Final Thoughts: Rewilding is an Act of Trust
The first five years of rewilding require patience, humility, and observation. Not everything will survive. Some plants will grow too much, too fast. Others will vanish. The landscape will surprise you—sometimes with collapse, sometimes with sudden flourishing.
But if you stay the course—working with nature instead of against it—you’ll witness something rare in urban environments: an ecosystem rebuilding itself.
What begins as wood chips and twigs becomes a living mosaic of roots, wings, leaves, and mycelium. Not perfect. Not polished. But alive, and part of the wider web of life.
And that’s what rewilding is all about.
Comentários