The everyday materiality of cement raises everyday questions: what about the effects of corrosion, seismic activity, moisture, design flaws and age on cement’s presumed durability? Harkness writes that concrete’s “guileful ruse is to offer us a permanent fix, once and for all”. Cement’s claim of permanence is deceptive, particularly when compared with the resource that is to be extracted.
The contamination of land, water, air and wildlife can be seen across the region. The Redbank Copper Mine was abandoned in the mid-1990s, with an estimated 54,000 tonnes of partially treated acid-forming material left exposed to the monsoonal rains for 17 years. Poor management has resulted in highly toxic waste bleeding into nearby waterways.
Xavier Herbert on the North: “The blunny place is always either a desert or a lake,” wrote the Australian author in his novel Capricornia. “Rabbits’ve got more sense than them blowbags that write in the Southern papers.”
“This is a sensational result for the many Territorians who value our near pristine environment; it is a great result for access to justice; and it’s a great result for people who value government and industry accountability,” said David Morris, the EDO’s Principal Lawyer.
Bad news from the west - Western Queensland: Pasture condition is generally poor across the area and stock are requiring supplements. Stock condition is generally poor across the area. An increasing number of livestock are in a condition that is less than required for trucking
Three birds, a dead frog and a fire. A few hours at the site of a grass fire outside the small Gulf town of Borroloola.
Yanyuwa traditional owners established the li-Anthawirriyarra (people of the sea) Sea Ranger Unit as a means for managing their vast estate. The rangers are employed to monitor and manage heritage sites such as Macassan camps; monitor and manage turtle and dugong populations and survey, map and eradicate feral animals.
It is unsurprising that across Aboriginal Australia the Pleiades - and their heavenly companions in Orion's Belt - are very much alive as actors in culture, life and the seasonal calendars that provided essential relationship between the lived here-and-now and the journeys and adventures of the heroic ancestors.
Basil is a kind and attentive host, particularly when evening scraps are his due. He might be ugly, scarred and with a bad case of bung-eye (I forgot to get some Golden Eye ointment for his conjunctivitis from the local clinic) that hopefully should be cleared up in a few days. He isn't riddled with ticks and is obviously reasonably healthy - in mind and body. In all he is just a normal dog - except that he is (technically) homeless.
The falcon was gone. A hundred birds were before me in the sky and on the ground. Here two Whistling Kites cruised downwind effortlessly away from the risen sun, doubling back with obvious efforts into the freshening breeze. Singleton Great Egrets rowed upstream against the morning breeze, all Omo white body and neck and black legs and beak. Torresian Crows - all beak and croaking caws - wandered in from their night roosts. Silver Gulls cruised downwind along the shoreline and Crested and other terns cruised offshore. There at ground level irregular ranks of Magpie Larks picked their way across the open grass in a score-strong horde, all black and white flutters and jumps as they grazed. Where one bird had dominated the morning landscape five minutes before, now everywhere was birds.