A few years ago, a small triangle of land at the corner of a Tokyo neighborhood quietly transformed. What had once been a nondescript patch of soil—wedged between a sidewalk and a parking lot—was turned into a thriving, layered forest. No taller than a tennis court, but bursting with native trees, birds, and insects, this living pocket of biodiversity grew dense and wild in just a few years.
It’s called a microforest, and it’s not just a feel-good landscaping project. It’s part of a quietly growing global movement to rewild our cities—one tiny plot at a time.
You may have scrolled past a photo of one without realizing it. A lush mini-ecosystem tucked behind a school. A dense grove flourishing on a roadside verge. They seem simple at first glance, but what they represent is anything but: a shift in how we imagine urban land use, resilience, and our role in nurturing the planet.
Let’s walk through the rise of microforests, why they’re rooted in ancient wisdom and ecological science, and how these small forests could have a very big impact on the future of city life.
What Is a Microforest?
A microforest—also known as a tiny forest—is a densely planted, diverse, and fast-growing patch of native trees and plants, usually no larger than 100 to 300 square meters (about the size of a basketball court). These forests are built using a method pioneered by Dr. Akira Miyawaki, a Japanese botanist and expert in plant ecology.
Unlike decorative parks or tree-lined sidewalks, Miyawaki-style microforests are wild by design. They mimic the natural layers of a native forest (canopy, understory, shrub, and ground cover) and are densely packed to encourage natural competition and rapid growth.
The Miyawaki Method in Brief:
- Uses only native species—those that would naturally grow in the region without human intervention.
- Plants trees very closely together, often 3–5 saplings per square meter.
- Prioritizes soil regeneration through compost and organic enrichment.
- Avoids pesticides, herbicides, and artificial watering after the first 2–3 years.
The result? A self-sustaining, climate-resilient forest that grows 10x faster than traditional reforestation efforts and matures in about 20 years instead of 100.
From Tokyo to London: A Global Movement Takes Root
Microforests began in Japan, but they’ve since popped up across the world. India has planted hundreds of them in urban slums and schoolyards. London, Spain, and France have adopted the model in public parks. And in recent years, the concept has taken hold in North America—especially in cities like Los Angeles.
In 2020, amid the pandemic, grassroots groups and environmental nonprofits accelerated microforest projects across several continents. Lockdowns may have slowed traffic, but the call to reconnect with nature—safely and meaningfully—only grew louder.
And city planners took note. Today, microforests are being implemented in:
- Schoolyards (as outdoor classrooms)
- Apartment complexes
- Roadside verges and median strips
- Industrial and commercial zones
- Community gardens and church grounds
What makes them especially powerful is this: they don’t need vast amounts of space. Even the smallest unused plot—a neglected corner lot, a former bus stop lawn, or the edge of a parking garage—can become a vibrant ecological asset.
Why Microforests Matter in Cities (Beyond the Obvious)
Sure, a tiny forest sounds lovely. More trees? Great. But the benefits go much deeper—and broader—than just aesthetics.
1. They Cool Urban Heat Islands
Cities are heating up faster than surrounding rural areas, thanks to concrete, asphalt, and minimal tree cover. Microforests help reduce local temperatures by providing shade and moisture, especially in low-income neighborhoods that often lack green space.
2. They Improve Air Quality
Trees act as natural filters. A dense microforest can absorb pollutants like nitrogen dioxide and trap airborne particles—effectively improving the air residents breathe daily.
3. They Support Native Biodiversity
Microforests are biodiversity magnets. Insects, birds, bees, fungi, and even small mammals are drawn to the native plant layers. In just a few years, one microforest can host hundreds of species that would otherwise struggle to survive in urban environments.
4. They Boost Soil Health
Because they focus on restoring degraded or compacted urban soils with organic materials, microforests also help sequester carbon and improve rainwater absorption—reducing local flooding and stormwater runoff.
5. They Offer Mental and Social Benefits
Access to nature has been linked to better mood, lower anxiety, and reduced stress. Even a brief walk near a patch of trees can help regulate the nervous system. Microforests bring this benefit into communities—especially where larger parks may not exist.
The Miyawaki Mindset: Rethinking Scale, Time, and Wildness
At its heart, the microforest movement isn’t just about ecology—it’s about perspective.
We’re often taught to think big: big parks, big policies, big change. But Miyawaki’s work invites us to consider the power of the small and the wild. That a patch of land, barely big enough to host a picnic table, can become a dense, self-sustaining ecosystem. That we don’t always need massive landscapes or decades to make an impact.
And that maybe, just maybe, the most profound environmental solutions won’t come from centralized systems—but from local, layered, and living interventions.
That’s a quiet kind of optimism. But an incredibly powerful one.
Why the Future Might Be Forested (and Not Just in Parks)
The next decade will test urban life: climate pressures, growing populations, and social inequities will strain our systems. Microforests aren’t a cure-all, but they offer a compelling model for decentralized, participatory resilience.
Instead of waiting for mega-projects or sweeping legislation, people can—and are—planting forests in their backyards, school fields, and alleyways.
The promise of a microforest isn’t that it fixes everything. It’s that it reminds us what’s possible when we invest in life, layer by layer, root by root.
Buzz Boost!
Scout for hidden land. Look for small, underused plots in your neighborhood—next to bus stops, behind community centers, or by parking lots. These are prime spots for potential rewilding.
Connect with local groups. Search for environmental nonprofits or native plant organizations in your area. Many are already involved in microforest projects or can help you start one.
Learn the native species. Understanding which plants, trees, and shrubs are indigenous to your region is key. Native species support local pollinators and are better adapted to the climate.
Pitch it as a community project. Partner with schools, faith centers, or local businesses. Microforests are perfect for collective action and can double as educational tools.
Reframe small wins. Even if you can’t plant a full microforest, replacing lawn with native plants, supporting pollinator gardens, or restoring soil health can echo the same values.
Small Forests, Big Futures
In a world where headlines often feel impossibly big—melting ice caps, megafires, disappearing species—it can be hard to believe that a cluster of saplings in a city corner could matter.
But they do.
They matter not just for what they restore ecologically, but for what they restore in us: a sense of agency, wonder, rootedness, and quiet hope. They remind us that regeneration doesn’t always need to be massive to be meaningful.
So the next time you pass what looks like an overgrown city patch, look closer. You might be seeing the future—not landscaped, but rewilded. Not ornamental, but alive.
And that future? It might just start with a single seed.
