The patch of land between the letterbox and the road might not look like much, but to Mel Logozzo, it’s prime real estate.

Not for another car bay, a perfectly manicured patch of lawn or (shock horror) a stretch of artificial turf, but for the beginnings of a suburban wildlife highway.

The passionate home gardener behind social media account and new book Rewilding Suburbia has spent years transforming her own quarter-acre block into a thriving ecosystem and encouraging others to reconsider what their patch of suburbia could become.

Now, she will turn her trained eye to some of Perth’s best examples as a judge of the Baileys Verge Awards, celebrating residents who have transformed the often-overlooked strips outside their homes.

For Logozzo, a great verge needs to do more than look good.

“I’m looking at beauty and function,” she says. “Not necessarily the biggest garden or whoever has the most plants. It’s more, what plants did they pick, and was there any kind of thought behind choosing local species? How does it work in our climate?”

When judging, she’ll consider soil health, mulching, diversity and whether the garden provides useful resources for wildlife. She’s also drawn to verges that feel achievable — something neighbours might see and be inspired to recreate themselves.

“I’m looking at it as a whole rather than just how pretty it is and how many plants they’ve put in.”

It is that potential for a ripple effect that makes verges particularly exciting.

Logozzo sees the thousands of strips running through our suburbs as an enormous and largely overlooked opportunity to return nature to the urban environment.

“We often see them as leftover spaces between our homes and the road,” she says. “But collectively, they represent a significant amount of urban space and an opportunity to do more.”

Her own verge has even become a catalyst for neighbourhood connection.

“People have literally stopped their cars and had a chat with me, or when they walk past,” she says.

“My neighbour, two doors up, they went and did all their verge. There’s so much community around gardening.”

Her own rewilding journey, in contrast, began with the much smaller ambition of simply protecting her vegetables from pests.

“I did start off just growing veggies at home, and naturally, once you start growing veggies, you’re inundated with pests,” she says.

“I kind of just became obsessed with watching what happened with my garden rather than trying to control it.”

What began as an attempt to solve a gardening problem gradually changed the way she viewed her backyard, shifting from a human-centric space towards an ecosystem in which plants, insects and other wildlife each had a role to play.

“The more I went down that rabbit hole, I suppose I realised that it’s more about changing the way we see our gardens,” she says.

Her block was predominantly paved when she started, and her initial goal was to create a “permaculture food forest”. As paving came up and plants went in, she started asking different questions: who else could use this space? What already lived here? What was missing?

Then the native bees arrived.

“One of my gateway wildlife were native bees,” she says.

“I was 35 when I first discovered them. How did I not know about any other bee rather than honeybees my entire life, when Australia has 1700 of them?”

The discovery prompted another rabbit hole: how could she provide for them? And what other creatures had she previously failed to notice?

Logozzo shares this snowball-like journey in her new book with Simon & Schuster publishing, which is a practical guide to bringing biodiversity back into our neighbourhoods.

Perhaps reassuringly for those whose gardening knowledge begins and ends with remembering to water their pot plant, Logozzo has no formal horticultural background. That is partly the point.

“I wanted to showcase that it’s something that feels tangible, achievable and hopeful. You don’t need acreage or expert gardening knowledge or a complete garden makeover even,” she says.

“You can begin with your backyard or your courtyard, your balcony, front garden, whatever it might be, the patch beside your driveway, or even my favourite . . . the verge.”

And despite the name, rewilding does not mean surrendering the backyard to complete chaos and Logozzo is on a mission to break that stigma.

“A lot of people think rewilding is about abandoning the garden, letting everything go and just become overgrown,” she says.

“It’s more about asking, well, how can this space still work for us while working better for nature as well? A garden can be intentional and beautiful and safe and well maintained and still provide genuine habitat.”

Central to that philosophy is planting endemic species long adapted to the soil and climate of the area, which is particularly pertinent in Perth.

“I’m so sick of people saying that nothing grows in our soil,” she says.

“South West WA is a biodiversity hotspot. It’s recognised worldwide as a biodiversity hotspot, so it’s more about choosing the right plant for the right space.”

For beginners, her advice is refreshingly unintimidating: start small and plant something endemic.

“Plant something that you know belongs in the bush near you,” she suggests.

But ultimately, Logozzo’s dream is bigger than any single backyard (or award-winning verge).

She imagines a Perth where verges and unused council spaces are filled with local plants, linking one garden to the next and creating “green highways” across the city.

“Imagine if we were saving water, creating shade, and green highways for wildlife to move through,” she says, hopefully.

And suddenly that little strip between the letterbox and the road looks like valuable real estate after all.

For more information on the Baileys Verge Awards or to enter, visit baileysvergeawards.com.au.