Early afternoon on the 14 May, 2020 means this is a changing tide. The moon is in the last quarter. It is weeks into the pandemic lockdown, months since the last wildfire and drought here, and years into climate change.
Story & image Mary Gardner
Remember, back before the pandemic, the long dry months during our Black Summer of wildfires? The Northern Rivers region was...
With the closing of the Byron sewage treatment plant, people minimised their industrial presence. In these conditions, nature’s healing processes took over.
Like others that day at the Cape Byron lighthouse, David Bryant saw this small whale ride a wave. Skilled photographer that he is, he had his camera to the ready and took this photo that has flashed its way through media around the world.
In the lagoon, the pace of winter life during the long dry seems pretty settled. The growth of small estuarine prawns slows down. Bream now five years old are grown up, itching for saltwater and their winter spawn.
The Australian otter is not otter an at all and while there were once plenty, loss of habitat through development and roads means their numbers are falling.
Could the future of West Byron lands lead the regeneration of seafood supply in the Belongil catchment and the sub-tropic region from the Richmond to the Brunswick?
Development in floodplains and on shores means walls, roads, residences, and every kind of construction are built. As the sea levels rise, the low-water mark marches landward to meet these barriers. The space between is shrinking or disappearing.
Although many municipal plans aim to cool off hot towns, improve waterways and protect human health, they can also support wildlife. Plans in Byron Shire can become exercises in empathy.
We found it dead on the sand near the mouth of the Tallow’ the woman said. The corpse stunk a little but I hardly noticed. I was so astonished. What was this platypus doing here? Who knew there were any around this side of Byron Bay? How did it live? As importantly, how did it die?
What lichens truly are is still startling. One apparently global species turns out to be made of one species of fungi with a different species of algae depending which hemisphere it finds itself.
Parrots are often called the primates of the bird world. They are intelligent, playful and determined, grasping and changing their world using their feet and beaks like hands holding scissors.
It’s not a done deal. The swamplands that define Byron Bay are crippled but still alive. The NSW Joint Regional Planning Panel is still debating how mega-development of West Byron might harm the Cumbebin Nature Reserve and the Belongil waterway.
This replica nawi, unlike the bark canoe at the Maritime Museum, is oversized and made of steel. It is moored at a cove at Barangaroo, the inner city place named after a Cammeraygal woman.
Where to go during the holidays? Try following waterways and discovering waterplaces. Start with a ramble down some path or an hour along a shore: curiosity will take over. Where did this water come from? What is it doing now? Where might it go? What does it mean?
From the days of the dinosaurs, birds have been an integral part of our world. People have always watched and listened to them and members of a wise culture would also be learning from them. But are we?
By night, the nearby ICOLLs are creatures inhabiting my dreams. Intermittently Closed and Open Lake or Lagoon (ICOLL) is the proper name for the Richmond and the Brunswick, the Belongil and the Tallow waterways.
Though I am on my way to somewhere else, I pause at the mangroves. They are a steadfast shelter as the fierce winds shift. Their roots steady the muddy bank under my feet.
Living in the subtropics – even for a short while as a visitor – means becoming weather wise. Of course there’s a fire ban. No open fires, especially on the beach. No tossing of cigarettes either.
These very old trees in the Railway Park, Byron Bay, are a mystery. With camera in hand, I walk around this living sculpture. These native beach hibiscus (Hibiscus tilaceus) are locked in on three sides by the buildings, cars of a busy street and a rough parking lot.
Neutinamu is Korean for elm tree. I saw this elder Zelkova in Seoul last month. It’s 1,300 years old, part of the Yonggungsa Temple founded in 650 AD. Around its base are roofing tiles with prayers and pleas written by devout Buddhists. Perhaps the chalk dust of these intentions mingle with the tree’s own perceptions. After all, trees sense through their leaves and roots.
From Byron Bay to Notre Dame, Paris! At the entrance, police openly tout heavy machine guns, casually monitoring the swarm of idle visitors and devout churchgoers in the great stone plaza.
Emergency resilience. My phrase for our knowledge and practices from year to year in response to great ecological cycles. One of these is water, turning from scarcity to deluge and back.
In the calm of 29 March, the three of us met at the beach in Byron Bay. As we soaked in the sea at low tide, we talked about preparing our houses and farms for the rainfall expected from the tail end of Cyclone Debbie.
Making sense of small talk is a never-ending task for this particular biologist. I deeply, truly want to hear what people think about the weather, water, fish and all that. Over the years, I’ve been splicing together these sound bites into a detailed collage.
The power of a Great Story goes round and round, spiralling outward from its first telling. Such stories become influential but why? Consider one from 1968 called ‘The Tragedy of the Commons’.
Electric vehicle drivers in NSW will soon have access to another 549 new kerbside chargers across 130 suburbs, as the result of a $2.8 million investment by the NSW government.
As koala breeding season approaches across the Northern Rivers, Friends of the Koala is urging the community to unite in protecting our region’s koalas. With increased koala movement expected in the coming months, now is the time for action, awareness, and collaboration.
