Temporal and spatial detachment as care: An ethnography of urban nature conservation policies at lake Müggelsee,Berlin

Introduction

Müggelsee is Berlin’s largest lake, covering around 7.4 km². It is a natural lake, formed during the last ice age as part of the glacial landscape of the Berlin–Brandenburg region. The Spree River flows through Müggelsee, connecting it to Berlin’s broader water system. Historically, the area surrounding the lake remained rural until the 19th century, when industrialization and urban expansion led to growing settlements and recreational use. The connection to the Spree has important ecological consequences: pollutants and nutrients from upstream urban and industrial activities accumulate in the lake, contributing to environmental pressures such as eutrophication (Reith et al., 2025). Müggelsee thus became not only a site of recreation and nature conservation but also a recipient of the city's environmental footprint, illustrating the complex entanglement of urbanization and freshwater ecologies.

This complexity is evident in Müggelsee’s role as a much-frequented leisure spot that is simultaneously of great ecological importance. This is true of many of Berlin’s densely populated landscapes. The Stiftung Naturschutz Berlin (Berlin Nature Conservation Foundation) is one of the local institutions working to promote urban nature conservation and raise awareness of the conflicts therein. As a reflection of this complex entanglement, conservationist M, ¹ who works for Stiftung Naturschutz Berlin, laments:

Even if you don’t have the knowledge of the species, you can just stay on the paths out of consideration and be aware that if you walk through the bushes, off the beaten track, you might disturb birds or other animals during the breeding season, or even accidentally step on plants or whatever. Spending your free time outdoors is also a form of appropriation of nature and in some cases, there is not much awareness of the problem. (Interview with conservationist M, 4 December 2020)

This quote highlights the conflictual more-than-human relationship that becomes evident in the recreational use of protected areas in urban spaces. Building on this important point in this article I address the question of how more-than-human coexistence is managed in areas that bring together the regulation of nature conservation and recreation temporalities. I am interested in how regulatory conflicts around the coexistence of more-than-human communities at Müggelsee are controlled by municipal actors. To address potential conflicts, I observe care as a regulatory practice.

Two non-human actors guide my field construction: the reedbeds on the shores of Müggelsee and the black terns that breed and fledge on Müggelsee. These two species were chosen as protagonists due to their presence and conflict potential that became clear from interviews, field notes and the conservation plans for protecting and managing them. For the question of how more-than-human coexistence is practiced at Müggelsee, it is decisive how multiple, more-than-human spaces and times relate to each other, overlap and rub against each other.

To understand how these overlapping spatio-temporal entanglements are navigated and managed, I turn to care as a regulatory practice that mediates the frictions and alignments between different temporalities and spatialities. Following feminist scholars such as Tronto (1993), Puig de la Bellacasa (2017), and Martin et al. (2015), I approach care as a relational and selective practice shaped by asymmetries and embedded in wider political and epistemic structures. In the context of nature conservation, care is not a neutral or universally distributed act, but rather a practice that prioritizes some species, bodies, and temporalities over others. This selectivity becomes visible, for instance, in how reedbeds are prioritized over other vegetation, or how black terns receive more attention than less charismatic species. As Puig de la Bellacasa (2017) argues, care is not always gentle—it can involve exclusion, conflict, and negotiation. Her perspective on care echoes that of critical media scholar Giraud (2019), who emphasizes that exclusion itself can be a form of care, as it creates the conditions for some relations to flourish while constraining others. This view also resonates with Collard’s (2013) and Ginn’s (2014) analyses of detachment and disentanglement as ethical practices, complicating the assumption that proximity is inherently caring.

This ambivalence is particularly visible in the coexistence of humans, black terns, and reedbeds at Müggelsee. Rather than immediate intervention, I approach care in this study as a distributed and at times deferred practice, shaped by spatial and temporal distance. Haraway examines the harming potentialities of care by showing the need for care practices that are situated, ongoing, partial and uncomfortable (Haraway, 2007, 2016). However, “situated” does not automatically mean harmless or ethical—rather, it signals a commitment to accountability and responsiveness within specific relational contexts. Situatedness entails that caring practices must remain attuned to the histories and power dynamics at play in any given context, which may include the potential to harm or exclude. Feminist STS scientists such as Martin et al. (2015) and Puig de la Bellacasa (2015) have shown non-intervention, caution and caring at a distance also as care. For Martin et al. (2015: 635), the notion of response-ability (Haraway, 2007, 2016) already contains that non-response can also become a legitimate response. That is, being response-able can also mean choosing not to react. This challenges conventional ideas of care as necessarily active or interventionist. Yet the argument remains open-ended: it raises the possibility of non-response as care, but does not determine when such withholding is appropriate or ethical.

In my case study, I take up this ambiguity by examining how conservation actors navigate uncertain situations—such as whether to intervene in a recreational activity or allow multispecies dynamics to unfold without interference. These tensions make visible how care as non-response requires not only attentiveness, but also judgment, situated knowledge, and ethical deliberation. In this understanding, care involves learning when not to act—especially when action might override the autonomy or rhythms of others. For instance, in the case of Müggelsee, refraining from approaching nesting black terns or wading into reedbeds may be a form of responsible non-engagement. These forms of withholding presence, grounded in situated attentiveness, can themselves become regulatory practices that shape human behavior and enable multispecies coexistence.

To address how more-than-human coexistence is practiced at Müggelsee, I use topologies as a concept to grasp socialities as producing different spaces in which different practices take place. The notion of topology draws on Allen’s (2011) and Thrift’s (2004) work, where space is understood as relational and shifting rather than fixed or metrically bounded. Similarly, Whatmore’s (2002) hybrid geographies conceptualize urban natures as dynamic assemblages constituted through topological relations. I introduce the rhizomatic and the nomadic spatio-temporal topologies: reed plants and their rhizomes. Reeds reveal the traces of more-than-human-socialities (Tsing, 2013) that circulate through lake water, lakebed and reed roots. The nomadic topology of the black terns highlights the cyclical and seasonal rhythms that constitute cohabitation at Müggelsee. Based on observations during go-alongs (Scott, 2020) with rangers and conversations with ranger T (interview, 18 May 2021), black terns and reedbeds as protagonists highlight the interplay of temporal and spatial dimensions in urban natures. I focus on how the dimensions of time in urban ecosystems, as pointed out by ecologist Ossola and colleagues (2021), structure topologies at Müggelsee, highlighting the “clashing times” (Kotsila et al., 2020) of non-human actors, recreational uses, and regulatory practices. Nature conservation laws provide an important basis for the protection of non-human life in the first place. To focus on this crucial aspect of more-than-human cohabitation, the concluding sections of this article look at local, municipal strategies to enforce species and nature protection laws that attempt to manage conflicts between nature conservation and recreational use of the lake. Two measures are being discussed: attempts to regulate boat traffic on the lake and the Urban Nature Ranger (Stadtnatur-Ranger) project. This project aims at mediating between non-human and human beings that meet in Berlin’s urban nature landscapes, especially in parks and protected areas (interview with ranger M and ranger N, 15 June 2021, field note 7 July 2021). Building on observations and ranger narratives, I suggest the regulation of proximity and distance between different species as a perspective to think about urban nature conservation. Following Massey (2005), proximity and distance are not fixed spatio-temporal forms but relational. This article argues that managing distance becomes a practice of care because the multispecies urban condition of Müggelsee proves that attempts at strict separation are almost impossible to implement in practice, as urban nature is characterized by an overflow of connection.

Notes on the methodological and analytical approach

Considering Berlin as a research site for urban nature conservation studies is worthwhile as Berlin can be described as a “pioneer” in caring for urban biodiversity (Lachmund, 2013). This article especially draws on ethnographic field research conducted in Berlin from June to October 2021. It combines different types of material and methods, including elements of autoethnography (Ploder and Stadlbauer, 2013), participant observation, go-alongs, and document analysis. On the one hand, I explored Müggelsee as a tourist, taking walks around the lake, visiting the Müggelsee lido, and taking boat trips from Treptower Park across the Spree and Müggelsee. In addition to this autoethnographic approach, I conducted three go-alongs (Kühl, 2016; Scott, 2020): one go-along with forester J, another go-along with two Urban Nature Rangers (N, M) through the Erpetal nature reserve, an area northwest of Müggelsee, and the third go-along with ranger T, an Urban Nature Ranger and black tern expert.

As part of an autoethnographic approach, I engaged with Müggelsee through my own sensory, embodied experiences (Pink, 2015)—walking, swimming, paddling, and observing—as a way to reflect critically on my own positionality as both researcher and visitor. These observations are not treated as neutral data, but as situated knowledges shaped by my positionality and sensory involvement in the field. The material consists not only of field notes, but also of “filed notes” (Plath, 1990). Parallel to participant observation, I analyzed documents, scientific studies, planning reports and newspaper articles. On all levels, the work integrates traces from the past and aspirations for the future. Thus, the field is constructed not only as multi-sited, but also as multi-temporal (Dalsgaard, 2013). Ethical considerations were an important part of my research design. Although no formal ethics approval process was required at my institution at the time, I sent a written research outline to all participants in advance, clearly stating the purpose of the research and how their contributions would be used.

Reeds: Circulating through time and space

Reeds, protected at Müggelsee as part of a changing biotope (Stadt Wald Fluss, Berliner Röhrichtschutzprogramm, 2013), are considered as invasive species elsewhere (Rooth and Stevenson, 2000). These simultaneous but very different developments in reed populations illustrate that species are integrated into local more-than-human communities and techno-social practices that often are in conflict. It is not the reeds as a species that are disappearing, but the habitats and landscapes that they create together with other living organisms. The interaction of spatial conditions with temporal aspects is also crucial. At Müggelsee this is especially evident through the area’s industrial history and the use of the lake for waterworks and waterways. According to a member of the Water Working Group, a BUND-hosted working group for freshwater protection, the local reedbeds might be influenced by the area’s industrial history as the soil still carries this heritage (field note, 18 September 2021). As Müggelsee is a touristic hotspot, the cyclical and seasonal rhythms of outdoor activities manifest through the lapping waves as mechanical influence on the reedbeds.

Reedbeds are biotopes found in shallow water and on the banks of water bodies (IÖF, 2010). They consist mainly of reed plants, which include two species of bulrush, reed sweet-grass, reed canary grass, sweet flag and tule, as well as many other plant species. The rhizomes in particular are home to bacteria that help to shape the composition of the water and soil. The reedbed is also important for animals as both a habitat and a breeding ground: the underwater part of the reedbed is a spawning ground for amphibians and fish, the overwater part is a nesting place for birds, and the reedbed is also a breeding and hiding place for dragonflies. Insects can hibernate in the hollow stems. The transitions from land to water and the connections from underwater to overwater through the reedbeds allow other members of the biotope to access different levels of the lake. The characteristic composition of the plant species varies depending on the location. At the Müggelsee, the reedbed is mainly made up of Phragmites australis, a type of sweet grass. The reed plants live for several years and rejuvenate in the spring from the rhizomes, their underground roots and shoots. Large stands can develop from a single germination. Rhizomes are elongated, horizontal, air-filled underground shoots of reeds (Bestmann, 1990: 243). The ecology of the lake’s soil is also relevant for reed growth. The effects of leisure activities circulate through the water not only as mechanical movement in the form of waves, but also on a molecular level. The relations between local and historical industrial and leisure practices and the reeds are therefore established both through the water and through the rhizomes in the soil. Puig de la Bellacasa (2015) writes about soil as living earth through which more-than-human communities relate to each other. The reeds, through their rootedness, are part of a politics of care for the lake ecology. The rhizomes of the plants stabilize the shoreline, slow down the waves and thus slow down the erosion of the banks. In recreational areas, however, the reed itself may be in need of protection. Human use of the lake as a waterway and the high number of boats cause prolonged high wave action.

The reedbeds are also interwoven with the lake otherwise: The strips of vegetation break down substances in the water (Brix, 1997). This is related to the bacteria and microorganisms with which the reeds coexist. The reeds are interwoven with the lake ecology through this integration into the living water chemistry, the soil community of the lakebed and the connection between wave impact and the rooting ability of the plants. Lake ecologies also include the techno-social practices of nature conservation and recreation. Stefan Helmreich describes seawater as “materialized as a cycling, hybrid substance, at once natural and cultural” (Helmreich, 2011: 132). Conceived as what I call the rhizomatic spatio-temporal topology of the reedbed, the more-than-human coexistence at Müggelsee unfolds as traces of socialities that circulate through lake water, lakebed and reed roots. My conceptualization of rhizomatic spatio-temporal topologies draws on Deleuze and Guattari’s (1987) critique of hierarchical structures, Whatmore’s (2002) emphasis on hybrid geographies that blur nature–culture divides, and Hinchliffe et al.’s (2005) analysis of urban wildlife assemblages as emergent, negotiated spaces of more-than-human cohabitation. In the urban studies literature, the notion of the rhizome has been reinterpreted to describe the non-linear, interconnected dynamics of urban ecologies, where material, social, and biological processes intersect without a single organizing center (Amin and Thrift, 2002; Farías, 2011; McFarlane, 2011). This resonates with Whatmore’s and Hinchliffe’s examples of cities as porous, lively environments in which humans, infrastructures, and other species co-produce spatial relations. This concept becomes empirically visible in the interwoven effects of industrial residues, leisure-induced wave action, and microbial activity in the lakebed.

In these three positions, as bank protection, as water filter, as biotope and basis of life, the reeds are related to other non-human beings and constitute the lake as a living space. Lorimer (2015) shows that nature conservation in Europe often follows the principles of conservation as composition. The author refers to an approach that aims at preserving pre-modern landscapes characterized by agricultural practices and to maintain them in this fixed state. A fixation on species and habitats as concepts can be observed, while processes and functions are lost from focus. The reeds of Müggelsee and the reedbeds as shoreline biotopes emerge as markers of a past state of the landscape and the biotic communities around the lake. This state becomes the goal for the future and thus for the orientation of measures in the present. In order to restore this past state, the focus is on reducing wave action. This measure was recommended by urban ecologists Herbert Sukopp and Barbara Markstein as early as 1989:

In light of the results available to date, efforts should be concentrated on attempts to reduce harmful mechanical influences. The eutrophication complex, which is difficult to master should be tackled later. So far, lengths of shoreline with reduced wave influence have been created as a precondition for the protection and re-establishment of the reeds. (Sukopp and Markstein, 1989: 38)

I understand the creation of protected shoreline zones to reduce the mechanical influences as a practice of zoning, a common method in urban planning, that is used for species protection at Müggelsee. Sociologist Valverde (2011: 282) describes zoning as the best-known tool of land use thinking in North America. Nature conservation appears in Valverde’s (2011: 281) work as a legal field that understands spaces as a collection of land uses. The coexistence of different groups, species and activities is constructed by this type of measure as fundamentally problematic. Zoning assumes competition as the default relationship between different groups, species and activities. The spatial knowledge that becomes relevant is knowledge about the spatial distribution of groups, species or activities.

The practice of zoning divides the Müggelsee into areas where certain activities can take place and areas where the same activities should be avoided in order to protect the reedbeds from wave action. This includes a channel on the lake to which motorboat traffic is restricted during the summer season (Senatsverwaltung für Stadtentwicklung und Umwelt Berlin, 2015). Other boats, such as sailboats or paddleboats, must keep a certain distance from the vegetation zones. This type of zonation of the Müggelsee is similar to the regional topology described by Mol and Law (1994). This resonates with Mol’s (2003) notion of multiplicity, where entities are not merely seen from different perspectives but are enacted differently across contexts. These enactments do not always align: spatial and temporal rhythms may coexist without coincidence, creating friction that challenges fixed conservation zones. Multiplicity thus expands the idea of topology by emphasizing that these spatial enactments are also temporal and performative—coexisting, intersecting, and sometimes conflicting in practice. While the palisades and the division of the lake into different protected areas aim to create separation and borders, the reeds form the lake as a space of interdependencies and connections between lake and shore, water and air, animals, bacteria and plants, the historical development of the reedbeds on the lake and their demands for the future of the Müggelsee. In the context of the Müggelsee reedbed protection, zoning is also used to restrict certain activities, such as boating, to specific areas. Drawing on Lorimer’s (2015) discussion of nature conservation as a practice shaped by multiple temporal imaginaries, I suggest understanding the zoning at Müggelsee as inherently spatio-temporal. Lorimer’s analysis shows that conservation does not operate on a single temporal scale but negotiates between conflicting expectations of stasis, recovery, and transformation. Different temporal ideas are promoted in different areas of Müggelsee, such as freezing the reedbeds and even reversing the decline of their growth, while devoting other parts of the lake to contemporary flows of boats. This tension between restoration-oriented timescales and present-day recreational demands illustrates how conservation at Müggelsee is governed not only spatially, but also through conflicting temporal projections.

Consequently, the reedbeds become a target for regulatory measures that seek to freeze the current landscape, in hopes of preventing further decline of the reeds, through zoning. Historical reed growth becomes a point of reference. This attempt rubs against the reedbed’s rhizomatic spatio-temporal topology that is characterized by non-linear, mechanical, and molecular interweavings. The reedbed topology is non-linear in that it resists fixed boundaries and unfolds through diffuse, relational entanglements. It is mechanical in the sense that wave action—generated by human leisure practices—physically affects the reedbeds. I use the term “molecular” to refer to the chemical and biological processes that occur at the micro level: the bacterial activity in rhizomes, the absorption, and transformation of substances in the soil and water, and the diffusion of pollutants and nutrients. Here, molecular speaks not only to the biochemical level of water–soil–reed interactions—such as microbial filtering or nutrient cycles—but also to the subtle, often invisible forces that shape multispecies biochemical patterns and exchanges (Helmreich, 2011). These micro-processes co-produce the space and time of the reedbed, calling for a conservation ethos attentive to these diffuse, relational agencies. These processes constitute the lake not only as a visible landscape, but as a living material interface shaped by interactions across scales. Such conceptualization shifts our understanding of conservation from a matter of stable boundaries toward an attention to these ongoing, situated material interweavings. What is more, it calls for care practices that attend to interdependencies across temporalities and scales.

Black terns: Stationary design for nomadic birds

The black tern breeds its young at Müggelsee, but due to various developments they have difficulties in building their nests there. For this reason, artificial nesting aids are being installed at Müggelsee. As controversies about the design of the floating nests (interview with ranger T, 18 May 2022, field note 3 July 2021) and the effects of their deployment show, this conservation intervention is enacting relations as stationary, which is at odds with the nomadic temporality and topology of the black terns. My thinking with the terns’ nomadic relationalities is informed by Deleuze and Guattari’s (1987) “nomadology,” which frames identity, movement, and spatial organization as non-hierarchical and processual, as well as by Braidotti’s (2011) notion of nomadic subjectivities. These theoretical perspectives foreground movement, flexibility, and relational spatialities, which stand in tension with the fixity implied in stationary conservation devices such as artificial nesting aids.

The number of black tern (Chlidonias niger) breeding pairs that still choose Müggelsee as their summer home has declined. Every year, however, a breeding colony of black terns still comes to Müggelsee. Conservation approaches need to adapt to this cyclical and seasonal temporality. For the birds, artificial nesting aids are installed on Müggelsee (Senatsverwaltung für Stadtentwicklung und Umwelt Berlin, 2015). This species of tern is estimated to live up to 20 years. The birds stay in Europe from about April to September to breed. Ranger T reports that they stay at Müggelsee from May until July. Significantly more black terns spend the summer months in the Volga Delta or the Danube Delta than in Berlin (interview with ranger T, 18 May 2022). The floating leaves and aquatic vegetation in the surrounding area play a special role for the birds, as they build their nests on detached plant parts that get stuck between the water lily leaves. The rhythms and migrations of black terns are interwoven with aquatic vegetation such as reedbeds and especially floating leaf vegetation. Floating-leaf vegetation consists of aquatic plants, such as water lilies and pond lilies. Their leaves float on the surface of the water. The large, rounded, water-repellent leaf surfaces make the plants ideal breeding grounds for birds and egg-laying sites for insects. These water lily plants are also protected. They reproduce vegetatively through rhizomes, like reeds. At Müggelsee, the aim is not just to protect birds’ eggs from the water by reducing wave action. Water movement is also crucial for the growth of aquatic vegetation, as the section on reedbeds on the banks of Müggelsee shows. This again shows the relatedness of the rhizomatic topology that forms through soil and water, plants, and animals. Thus, at Müggelsee, the black terns distinct nomadic spatio-temporal topology overlaps with the rhizomatic (Radke, 1991, interview with ranger T, 5 May 2022).

Black terns spend the winter months in the river deltas of West Africa. Each spring, the birds begin their northward movement. They fly along the coastline via Morocco, Spain and France to Müggelsee, where they arrive in early May to mate, breed and raise their young before leaving again for West Africa in July. This is a schematic representation of the black tern’s rhythms. However, some birds live to different rhythms and do not follow the same patterns each year. For example, sometimes they arrive in Berlin as early as April. This suggests that these birds have not flown as far as the West African river deltas, but spend their winters in Spain or Morocco. Spatially and temporally, the birds go beyond my field construction of the Müggelsee. Travelling between winter and summer quarters, they seem to be nomadic birds that do not have fixed roosts but settle wherever they find a suitable place. As such, the black terns challenge the conception of Müggelsee through their nomadic topology. Through their flight patterns and time lapses, they link Müggelsee to other river deltas and place species conservation attempts in their timings. Ranger T corrects me when I ask about the “Müggelsee population” of black terns, as they spread around a larger triangle in the south-east of Berlin. According to ranger T, it is generally difficult to delineate, as the black terns are known to change areas frequently (interview with ranger T, 18 May 2021). “Habitat” therefore seems an inappropriate term to describe the black tern’s relationship with Müggelsee. To a certain extent they are independent of it, if they can find niches elsewhere where they can breed and raise their young. Rose and Van Dooren criticize the concept of habitat in their description of Sydney penguins. Habitat implies that the place only needs to have certain biological, ecological and physical characteristics, and that all places with these characteristics are equally suitable as a home for the penguins (Van Dooren and Rose, 2012: 10). However, the authors stress that non-human animals also give meaning and history to the places where they live. Unlike the penguins, black terns are migratory birds, which means that they do not live at the Müggelsee all year round, nor do they have a nest like the penguins in Rose and Van Dooren’s account. This flexibility benefits the black terns, as the conditions for their reproduction at Müggelsee are not ideal. Nevertheless, some birds find their way to Müggelsee again and again. For these birds, Müggelsee is the place where they find each other to breed and raise their offspring.

“My understanding of the black tern is that it has made us an offer, so to speak, that it wants to be our neighbor despite all these conditions”, says ranger T (interview, 18 May 2022).

But it is a neighborly offer that can be revoked every year. Black terns are accustomed to floodplains and deltas that are constantly changing, making their nomadic spatio-temporal topology fluid and dynamic. It connects different local conditions through the birds’ travel rhythms. The travel rhythms themselves are connected to the local rhythms of change in the water landscapes, such as floods. Changing roosts frequently is therefore a familiar process for the birds. The use of sheltered bays with remnant water lily beds for nesting is in some ways an adaptation to the changing river landscapes. Instead of floods and constantly changing river courses, the birds have found their niches between fixed structures characterized by straightened and obstructed banks. They are also able to integrate the constantly drifting debris well: ranger T has already seen them nesting on pieces of plastic debris instead of floating plant debris. From the black tern’s point of view, the protection of narrow, well-defined zones does not overlap with the areas where they spend their time and on which they depend. Yet the birds obviously benefit from having as many calm, shallow water areas rich in aquatic vegetation as possible, with easy flight routes between them. At the same time, the water lily populations themselves are “substitute habitats” (interview with ranger T, May 18, 2002): In the past, the birds used to seek out flooded meadows and oxbow lakes—structures that have become rare due to the straightening of rivers and the development of shipping. Lorimer (2015) focuses on such connections between spaces. Conservation corridors are links between nature reserves that prevent them from becoming isolated islands. For animals that migrate, such as black terns, connections between suitable areas are crucial. In this respect, the black terns show that the Müggelsee nature reserve must also be understood in terms of its connectivity with other bodies of water both in space and time. Through their flight and breeding behavior, the black terns extend the concept of temporal rhythms that characterize Müggelsee.

Governance strategies at Müggelsee

The multiplicity of spatio-temporal topologies and the overflow of connectedness at Müggelsee shows the importance of detachment as a dimension of care for urban nature, a point also developed in feminist care ethics (e.g., Mol, 2008; Puig de la Bellacasa, 2017; Tronto, 1993).

I use “detachment” here not as an opposite of care, but as one of its modalities (Puig de la Bellacasa, 2017). In contexts such as wildlife photography or lake recreation, care for more-than-human beings may require intentional withdrawal or non-interference. Detachment becomes a way of recognizing the autonomy and vulnerability of others—of acknowledging that presence is not always neutral or benign. As Despret (2013) suggests, attentiveness sometimes means not approaching, not touching, not insisting. As the spatio-temporal topologies of the rhizomatic and the nomadic have shown, care at lake Müggelsee is embedded in a multiplicity of rhythms. Different times and spaces are connected at Müggelsee through actors such as the reedbeds and the black terns. To further understand, how this multiple coexistence is cared for, I look at two measures that attempt to govern touristic uses of the Müggelsee as protected area: the regulation of boat traffic and the Urban Nature Ranger project. Several laws of nature and species protection are valid at Müggelsee, but following the local research partners, they do not get enforced enough:

There are no controls. Despite the prohibition signs, some people drive into the water lilies. The hot weekends are the problem! And existing areas are ignored. There’s a lot going on at the lake on Friday evenings. The boats come out in the evening, they come out every evening, that’s a lot of people,

This is forester J’s answer to my question about the effect of the numerous bans and prohibitions on the Müggelsee (conversation, 7 July 2021). He is critical of the fact that, despite the very high number of visitors, there is hardly any police or public order presence in the relevant areas on certain occasions, and that bans and prohibitions are de facto the responsibility of voluntary orientation. It becomes clear that forester J is in favor of stronger controls and more enforcement. Niewöhner (2014) illustrates the interaction between health policy instruments and urban planning. He describes how different policy interventions in people’s everyday lives either activate them as subjects or deprive them of choices. By designing environments and spaces in such a way that people can only make the “right” choices, individuals are relieved of responsibility for their lifestyles, Niewöhner (2014: 189) states, making reference to measures that seek to improve cardiovascular health and combat obesity. This idea could also be applied to taking responsibility for the impact of one’s lifestyle on other living beings, whether human or non-human. To address what kinds of multispecies care and coexistence is enacted at Müggelsee, I look at two different governance strategies and what kind of topologies and subjects they activate.

Governing boats

Müggelsee as part of Berlin is a recreational space that is highly connected with its urban environment. One dimension of regulating this condition is the management of recreational use at Müggelsee. One instrument for regulating boat traffic on the Müggelsee is the Treptow-Köpenick district’s jetty concept, a guideline for permitting jetties (Bezirksamt Treptow-Köpenick, Berlin Umwelt- und Naturschutzamt, 2019). The procedure is relevant not only to water sports enthusiasts, but also to the accessibility of weekend homes on the Rahnsdorf islands. According to local residents, the properties would have to be abandoned if they were not accessible via the jetties (field note, 7 July 2021, interview with forester J, 7 July 2021). Therefore, clubs, water sports enthusiasts and residents worry that they will have to give up their jetties, and with them their properties, hobbies and daily lives. No new licenses to build jetties or extensions to existing jetties are permitted in the exclusion zones of the nature reserve. In the other shore areas, a nature conservation assessment is required before a jetty gets building permission. Proximity to water plants and reeds is also a criterion. One problem with the reed proximity rule is that careful use leads to rapid overgrowth, which jeopardizes the license, while illegal removal or use that prevents reed growth secures the jetties. An amendment to the Act seeks to address this issue. It is clear from enquiries and comments from the administration that no jetties have been removed to date. The growth of water lilies and reeds constantly challenges and shifts the spatial boundaries, the water lilies by growing further into the channel for boats and the reeds by preferring to grow on the jetties rather than within the palisades. The temporality of speedy growth of water plants that do not follow expectations and overflow spatial boundaries challenges the regulation of access through the granting of licenses. The instruments regulate the intensity of recreational use of Müggelsee by regulating access through permits, contrasting with the fluid ecologies of Müggelsee.

Governing encounters

Cities may be “biodiversity hotspots” (cf. e.g., Ives et al., 2016; Schilthuizen, 2018), yet at the same time, urban spaces are characterized by intense proximity and interweaving of human and non-human lives, mobilities, needs and temporalities. The Urban Nature Rangers project addresses the urban condition of Berlin’s protected areas. In contrast with the regulation of access, the Urban Nature Rangers project aims at regulating coexistence at the Müggelsee through personal encounters. The project addresses coexistence as individual encounters of subjects. Leisure and nature conservation become a network of individual ways of dealing with conflicts that arise when different living beings come together.

The Urban Nature Ranger project is funded by the Senate Department for Urban Mobility, Transport, Climate Protection and the Environment (SenUVK) and coordinated by the Stiftung Naturschutz Berlin. The project was launched in 2020 and two positions are funded in each Berlin district. In addition to instructing volunteers, they are responsible for public relations and environmental education. They are out and about in parks, forests, and nature reserves. They also act as connectors between the district, nature conservation authorities, and residents. The Urban Nature Rangers inform citizens of offences against park regulations or the Berlin Nature Conservation Act, for example, but they have no power to punish or prosecute. Two Urban Nature Rangers for the Treptow-Köpenick district, ranger M and ranger N, allowed me to accompany them in 2021.

Ranger M describes how, during his work as an Urban Nature Ranger, he got the impression that people often feel “close to nature” by cycling and walking their dogs. These people are often unaware that dogs can disturb or even endanger other animals and that bikes should not be allowed everywhere in a nature reserve, such as leaving the marked paths. His description makes it clear that it is often not easy to assess the impact of different human activities on non-human life. There are encounters that go unnoticed or are difficult to assess. The Urban Nature Rangers therefore focus on engaging visitors through dialogue and insights into non-human ways of life. The mediating role between nature conservation concerns and the leisure needs of visitors is a recurring theme in local discussions about the Urban Nature Rangers project (Interview with ranger M and ranger N, 15 June 2021, field note, 7 July 2021).

With the Urban Nature Rangers, the more-than-human coexistence in protected areas appears as a network of individual human-nature encounters. The presence of Urban Nature Rangers opens up opportunities for dialogue about the effects of these encounters, even if these conversations are not always successful or particularly pleasant. The Urban Nature Rangers can create opportunities for visitors to think about the city and protected areas as more-than-human spaces, and to negotiate questions of coexistence.

Detachment as care

Following anthropologist Candea, physical proximity, touch and other forms of bodily contact with “nature” are often associated with positive qualities such as appreciation, connectedness, and engagement, while distance and detachment are associated with negative phenomena, such as coldness, unresponsiveness and inaction (Candea et al., 2015: 1). The authors foreground how spatial and affective distance are not merely absences of connection but can constitute ethical and epistemic modes of relating.

The following example shows how wildlife photography can illustrate the difficulties of finding the right level of distance and proximity. Ranger T uses bird photography to explain how the regulation of distance becomes necessary. At Müggelsee, black terns are a popular motif. To get that special snapshot, which ranger T compares to hunting trophies, the bird photographers go so far as to use inflatable boat attachments developed for fishing, so that they can take the camera technology into the water with them. This allows the photographers to get very close to the waterfowl to get the best shots. Such practices highlight ethical tensions that are widely discussed in the literature on wildlife photography (e.g., Barua, 2014; Berger, 1980; Mills, 2013). Wildlife photography can, intentionally or not, reproduce forms of domination, turning animals into objects of consumption, where closeness becomes a measure of aesthetic success. The photographers’ drive for proximity at Müggelsee—achieved through technical means and often oblivious to animal stress—exemplifies the extractive logic of visual capture.

Ranger T explains the effect of this intrusive behavior on the black terns: “This is also a reason for protection, yes, sometimes you have to protect the black terns from the photographers who get very close and then attract predators or they prevent or stop feeding” (interview with ranger T, 18 May 2022). Anglers can also disturb the black terns if they do not regulate their distance from the animals. Ranger T explains that it can be difficult to judge the birds’ stress level. It can seem like the animals do not mind anglers, photographers and other visitors getting close to them, because they keep sitting calmly, while their hearts are beating faster and their breathing rates increase. These multi-species encounters are based on the assumption that non-human animals regulate distance autonomously. The angler in ranger T’s description assumes that if animals feel disturbed by them, they will move away and thus maintain appropriate distances without the angler’s intervention. Such expectations of non-human animals reflect those of my own visits to the Müggelsee. I can imagine that adult animals can create the desired distance from me on their own. However, ranger T’s explanations make it clear that this is a reciprocal relationship, a moving towards or away from each other, which needs to be assessed and adjusted on both sides. According to ranger T, the Urban Nature Rangers provide training for conservation authority staff who, like visitors, often lack knowledge of animal behavior. Ranger T explains that such experience can only be gained through years of observation, which is why it is important to involve recreational ornithologists and volunteers who bring this knowledge.

These dynamics are also seasonally variable. During the breeding season, particularly strict regulations on proximity are necessary. During the summer season, motorized boats are only permitted to operate within a designated navigation channel to protect the reedbeds. Detachment as care is thus not only spatial but temporal—it requires attention to rhythms of reproduction, migration and plant growth. These rhythms are not always visible to visitors and can be difficult to enforce or communicate, making temporal distancing measures a particularly challenging but crucial form of care. These seasonal rules illustrate how detachment is structured in time: the rhythms of the reeds and their multispecies interdependencies call for withdrawal at certain moments rather than continuous intervention.

In addition to the critique of mainstream conservation frameworks, it is important to consider alternative conservation theories that align with the multispecies care approach discussed in this article. The new conservation framework, as proposed by Marris (2011), challenges traditional conservation paradigms by advocating for a more dynamic and human-influenced relationship with nature, emphasizing the role of human agency in shaping ecosystems. This perspective aligns with the evolving ecological reality of Müggelsee, where human interventions, such as waterworks and recreational activities, are integral to the lake’s ecological dynamics. Furthermore, the concept of convivial conservation, as discussed by Büscher and Fletcher (2020), offers a valuable lens through which to explore the relational and reciprocal nature of conservation practices at Müggelsee. This approach emphasizes collaboration between human and non-human actors, proposing conservation as a process that facilitates co-existence rather than separation. By integrating these alternative theories into the analysis, we can broaden the scope of conservation at Müggelsee, emphasizing not only the protection of natural habitats but also the creation of more inclusive and cooperative spaces for multispecies care.

The practices of regulating proximity and distance to non-human beings that I have addressed here are only one of many relevant dimensions. In this context, scientific research on multispecies interactions becomes a determining factor for the conditions of human activities in protected areas and thus for regulatory interventions into everyday life. This makes it all the more important to critically analyze the role and processes of knowledge production in future research.

Conclusion

The governance approaches discussed enact different ecological subjectivities. While regulatory conservation tends to cast human actors as either disturbers or enforcers, the participatory model involving local ornithologists and volunteers fosters relational subjectivities grounded in shared experience and situated ecological knowledge. These forms of governance do not merely manage behavior; they shape how people come to see themselves in relation to more-than-human others. This shows in the situated practices of adaptation and consideration, such as ranger T’s knowledge on bird behavior that he teaches others, and make it possible to adapt human behavior to the terns’ needs, as well as the zoning practices as a way of considering the reedbeds. Such practices indicate a form of reciprocal nature conservation, where human actors do not merely manage non-human life but adjust their own spatial and temporal practices in response to the rhythms and needs of other species. The lake and its shores are a home not only for animals and plants, but also for the local urban human population. They live together, with and on the water. This is different to unilateral, linear conservation—the more-than-human coexistence is not merely managed but enacted as co-becoming. Conservation appears reciprocal not in a symmetrical sense of mutual exchange, but in the form of “response-ability” (Haraway, 2007): the capacity to notice, interpret, and respond to the needs and behaviors of more-than-human beings. Practices like restricting boat traffic during breeding season are not just technical decisions—they reflect an emerging ethic of cohabitation grounded in attentiveness and responsiveness, a principle that calls us to reconsider conservation as a living relationship rather than a fixed directive.

In this article, I have discussed one of the many aspects of living together in more detail, namely relationships of proximity and distance. I used the terms proximity and distance not merely in a physical sense or as a metaphor, but as relational modes of coexistence (Candea et al. 2015; Haraway, 2007; Massey, 2005), showing that spatial and temporal distance are not absences but active conditions of care and attunement. They are not fixed states, but fluid dimensions of being together. Furthermore, I have posited proximity and distance not as a measurable, physical distance between two subjects, but as a dynamic and relational process. As is evident in the spatio-temporal topologies of the reeds and the black terns, practices of creating distance, of establishing detachment, that do not (exclusively) depend on tools of demarcation, barriers and other methods of inaccessibility, remain of outmost importance.

The cases and concepts discussed in this article point to the need for more attentive, situated and non-linear ways of engaging with urban nature. The reedbeds and terns at Müggelsee challenge the assumption that ecological processes follow predictable trajectories. Their entanglement with mechanical disturbances, industrial residues, seasonal rhythms and molecular exchanges illustrates a temporality of urban nature that is rhizomatic, sedimented, and emergent all at once. Working with such multiplicities demands a mode of study and governance that is responsive to layered spatio-temporalities—where the past persists in infrastructures and ecologies, where the present is shaped by conflicting spatial uses, and where the future is negotiated in shifting conservation goals and practices of care. Rather than seeking closure or linear recovery, the concept of reciprocal conservation invites us to ask what kinds of relational adjustments are necessary and possible in shared urban environments. Detachment, as much as closeness, may become a modality of care; and zoning may need to be rethought as a spatio-temporal negotiation that recognizes the different speeds, rhythms and thresholds of more-than-human coexistence. To imagine urban nature temporalities differently, research practices that can trace these relational dynamics across scales and registers are needed—from the molecular to the institutional, from the seasonal to the historical.