The Widening Crack– the cost of not acting on climate change. The little flame in our forty-year-old wall furnace, the one that was supposed to hold tight, hang on and persist, was being extinguished, again and again. The pilot light had become unanchored, blown away and shut down. We were in lockdown, in a Melbourne winter. We had been bunkered down…

Morning walk. I wake too late to do my nature writing workshop so I decide to get out into nature instead! Head off at about 7 am, sustained on half a cup of hot water with lemon, a banana and a snack KitKat. Make it to the backbeach in time…

When the branches of Eucalyptus botryoides fall, as they often do, they root again and continue to grow. The tree is its own ecosystem. …

Inside the pages of the old school atlas, the small boy holds the pencil, angling it as he edges around Australia’s shores. My father’s hand has been here, tracing the coast, the grey lead pencil pushed down hard into the paper. My father’s atlas appeared in the family house pack-up…

When I heard a woman remark ‘I’d rather die than not have my hair done,’ I wrote the words down, stunned. It’s strange what has been deemed ‘essential’ in the time of Covid-19. Shopping for food, sure. Medical appointments, yes, if necessary. Exercise, OK. And until recently, a trip to…

From my bed, propped up with cushions and with my fancy headphones on, I sip gin and watch the screen as I sing an arrangement of Ball Park Music’s Surrender. “It’s OK, it’s alright, true terror in the middle of the night, give in if it makes you feel better…

A photograph of a new mum, squinting into the sun, shadows hiding her face, shrouded. Standing beside her, stationed on either side, a girl and a boy, aged 6 and 5. They are all in front of a Hills Hoist. Nappies flap, flannel sails fluttering over their heads, catching the…

Festivals serve up more than bands, martinis in mugs and craft beers in custom-designed bottles, so in the spirit of risk-taking and surrender, I decided to submit myself to an ‘artistic experience’ in a silent hair salon at last year’s Mona Foma festival. But to what was I surrendering? And…