Here & Now #71

S Sorrensen

Lismore. Friday, 12.10pm

When I’m walking around the university, I’m always scanning the trees.

Most people are scanning their phones. As is the modern way, they and I are both pretty much oblivious to what is going on right in front of us. I’m in the treetops; they’re… well, I don’t know where they are.

Jeez, Australia could go to war and no-one would even notice. Unless the bloody evil Islamic extremists were hiding in the canopy ready to launch an attack on us poor distracted Aussies just because we bomb the be-allah out of them; then I’d be the first to notice them. They’re bigger than koalas and have subtitles.

Years ago, the university in its youthful wisdom planted all sorts of trees to provide refuge for local animals, birds and drunk teachers. Good idea. Like providing quality education to the northern rivers; another good idea. Universities used to be places where good ideas flourished. Like ‘no war’ and ‘save the reef’ and ‘stop greenhouse emissions’. But that was then. Good ideas, like free education, are not popular anymore, especially with the corporations who run Australia.

Jobs at the uni are disappearing as the uni pretends to be a business, downsizing staff and upsizing debt, but the animals and birds still benefit from the original good ideas of the north coast’s very own university. And there are quiet groves where sacked teachers can drown their sorrow.

So, I have been wandering around uni with my head at a perpetual and sometimes painful tilt, my eyes ever roaming the treetops. In the last 12 months I have spotted three koalas, a blue tree snake (yes, blue), some weird crested bird I hadn’t seen before and once, walking to the car park under a fullish moon, I’m pretty sure I saw a sugar glider dropping from canopy to tree trunk.

I have not seen any crazed jihadist. I did see a bird that belonged to IBIS. I alerted security.

Yesterday, I saw a black possum. I nearly didn’t see it because it was quite close to the ground, happily munching on red callistemon flowers.

A few minutes ago, I was passing by that callistemon tree which hangs over a creek behind where a new university building is being constructed from people’s jobs. No possum there today.

I was looking up into the neighbouring eucalyptus to see if the possum was perhaps resting in its upper branches, when I walked slap-bang into a young woman who had stopped to pick up the phone she’d dropped.

It was an embarrassing collision. She was bent over and I walked straight into her. Like skinks mating.

She let out a squeal, quickly shoved one hand out in front of her to stop herself sprawling onto the path, and dropped her phone again. I gasped and pushed down on her back to stop myself from falling onto her.

Oh dear.

‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘I was looking for the possum’.

She looked at me strangely for just a moment, picked up her phone and carefully checked it. The screen shone happily blue. Without a word or smile, she marched on towards the plaza, her stilettos’ noisy clacking complementing the construction noise.

I am following her, at a distance, to the uni plaza. At 12.30pm there will be rally against the job losses.

I hope there are lots of people there.

I hope the plaza is full of people who care about the uni. It’s been a long time since the plaza was pumping. It used to buzz to good ideas; now it just pings to texts.

I hope the young woman isn’t there and points me out to her friends.