A forest grows in Swansboro

Once it was a small playground. Then a vacant patch of hard earth, studded with wiregrass. 

But on Saturday morning, this 30-foot by 60-foot rectangle of land that lies between tennis courts and a children’s soccer field in Fonticello Park in Richmond’s Swansboro neighborhood began its transformation into a densely packed forest made up of 200 native trees and shrubs.

If successful, the project — known as a tiny forest or a Miyawaki forest, after the Japanese botanist who developed them in the 1970s — will in just a few short years help cool the surrounding neighborhood and bring back insects and birds that have long since departed for more fertile grounds.

“Do not ask me why they work,” Ann Jurczyk, the Virginia urban restoration manager for the Chesapeake Bay Foundation and one of the leaders of the effort, told several dozen volunteers Saturday. “I do not know.” 

Around the world, tiny forests have taken cities and other marginal, depleted parcels of land by storm. Despite, or perhaps because of, their extreme density, they can grow very rapidly, outpacing conventional forests that contain just one or several species by as much as 10 times. 

Scientists have hazarded a variety of theories for their success. The closeness of the plantings is said to speed the trees’ growth by spurring them to rise faster than their neighbors toward the sunlight. Others suspect it has something to do with forests’ mycorrhizal networks, the vast web of fungi that link tree roots beneath the forest floor. While trees have long been visualized as silent, solitary giants, research has increasingly shown that they are in fact closely interconnected, sharing nutrients, water and even warnings of potential threats through the mycorrhizal network. 

“They don’t do well when they’re alone,” said Robin Allman, a resident of the City Stadium neighborhood who turned out Saturday to help with the project. “Planting them close together, they can talk to each other.” 

Whatever ultimately makes the forests thrive, “it works,” she said. “It’s quick, and we need something quick at this point.” 

For cities like Richmond, the speed with which tiny forests can grow is particularly appealing as officials and organizations try to devise strategies to combat heat islands — areas where temperatures are significantly higher than those that surround them. 

Heat islands are especially common in urban areas, where intense development and expanses of pavement can cause temperature bumps of between 1 and 7 degrees Fahrenheit during the day and 2 to 5 degrees at night. 

The extent to which some neighborhoods are hotter than others is also linked to historical differences in their racial makeup: One influential study led by former Science Museum of Virginia chief scientist Jeremy Hoffman found that across 100 cities, historically redlined neighborhoods — those rated by the U.S. government in the 1930s as “hazardous” for investment, largely because they were majority Black or immigrant — were on average 5 degrees hotter than other communities. In Richmond, the difference rose to as much as 15 degrees when comparing the city’s Gilpin Court public housing community, which is majority-Black, with wealthier neighborhoods that have larger white populations. 

“We are dealing with increasingly hot temperatures and are making a really big effort to increase our tree canopy,” said Kate Rivara, a community engagement coordinator for Richmond’s Department of Parks, Recreation and Community Facilities, which is partnering with the Chesapeake Foundation on the tiny forest. “By adding in plantings that create shade, you can help cool the city and cool the park down.” 

Fonticello was a good candidate for the push. The park, which adjoins Carter Jones Park, has developed a loyal following from neighboring residents, who rallied together to rejuvenate the space after the 2019 murder of 9-year-old Markiya Dickson there during a Memorial Day cookout. 

“Fonticello Park has been for a long time neglected. Southside in general has been neglected. And the [tree] canopy is pretty scarce,” said Carl Joseph, chair of the Friends of Fonticello Park. “So we need stuff for helping cool the space for our park visitors and park community to come out and feel comfortable.” 

Over the past few years, Fonticello has also become a magnet for some of the city’s most innovative park projects. The Fonticello Food Forest distributes free produce grown in a thriving community garden to people in need. In 2023, the Friends group secured a $20,000 grant from the Virginia Outdoors Foundation to develop a native meadow area in the park as part of a “rewilding” initiative. 

The tiny forest is the latest addition to that lineup. Joseph said hopefully it will be “something people can model in other parks, other neighborhoods and their own yards.” 

In Richmond, “the cooler, safer, healthier spots tend to be the ones that receive a lot more money and funding from the city,” he said. “So something like this could help improve that for our neighborhood.” 

While some tiny forests have faced criticism over their cost, the trees for the Richmond project only required about $750 because they were acquired so young, said Jurczyk. Money for the plants came from the Bay Foundation, while Parks and Recreation staff prepared the site through intensive tilling and the addition of compost and bio-char to boost the trees’ likelihood of success. 

The site will require its most intensive maintenance over the next two to three years as the trees get established. Watering will have to be regular, and any lingering wiregrass will have to be removed by hand, said Jurczyk (“This stuff is horrible,” she added). 

Then, the forest should mostly take the lead.

“This stuff should really fill in, drop its leaf litter, really build those layers of soil,” said Rivara. “That will be weed suppression.” 

If all goes well, what will come next will be the insects, followed by the birds. One Los Angeles tiny forest drew toads willing to brave a long trek across embankments and bicycle and horse trails. For those species, the rings of locust, serviceberry, possumhaw, American beech and other natives will offer not just shelter, but food. 

“It should provide the ecological uplift of a true forest in anywhere between five and seven years,” said Jurczyk.

Looking out at the volunteers huddled over the small plot, she imagined a couple walking through Fonticello in a few years, and suddenly hearing the song of a warbler drawn back to the park by a new abundance of insects. 

“That’s how we’ll make this a success,” she said.