I was in Melbourne town a while back, the big smoke, in Smith St
Collingwood, checking out a new alimentari
and updating my hipster reference points. Under the lulling influence of
summertime, clothes with more colours than black were in evidence, and there
seemed to be fewer beards on the street. Could it be that the tsunami of hair
is finally beginning to recede?
Anyway, I'd lingered over a coffee and was strolling on when I found myself caught short. My inbuilt "Nearest Toilet" app informed me that yes, a little further down Smith St I'd find a public facility, and I hurried on (never get between a man over 50 with a look of urgency on his face, and a toilet). Thankfully, the door button blinked green - with a pneumatic hiss, I was ushered in. The blessed bowl gleamed in welcome; someone's idea of relaxing music piped up; I relaxed.
Then, what is that, that ripe, fetid aroma? I sniffed,
my brow furrowed. I looked around, I looked down, and there, nestled beside the
bowl, was a rather fine specimen of toilet art, dark and bulbous. Oh me, oh my,
what possesses a person to so deliberately disturb public space? Some hostility
born of constant rejection and discouragement, and I'll take it out on the rest
of you by laying down one thing I can do pretty well, beside the bowl, not in
the bowl. Up yours!
I sighed and finished up, risked the washing and the
drying devices, requested exit and was delivered, free again, to the outer
world of car fumes and grinding trams. A
Japanese couple was waiting, tourists in their thirties, beautifully dressed. As
she headed for the door, a wave of shame swept over me. "No, no," I wanted
to say. "Don't go in there!" And then "This is not typical, this
is not how Australian people behave, please don't take away this memory of my
country!"
Later that week I went walking in Barrm Birrm, in at
the track up from my place, and what is this!! Some idiot, some lazy wanker,
has gone and dumped his garden waste along the edge of the track, clippings and
bamboo grasses and soil with who knows what weeds, smothering the native
grasses. Not in the nearby parking spot already disturbed by human activity,
but here, where the bush lives on.
Now you tell me - what possesses a person to
dump their waste on plants that have patiently grown, that have possession of
the land, that belong and have a right to their existence? Is it simply
convenience, that here was the easy place to offload the trailer, and to return
with another trailer load? Or the tip fees, a cheap solution to municipal
authority? Or is there something more, some unconscious aggression, a fear of
the simple existence of the bush, that stays in place through seasons and
changes only slowly, doesn't shout or demand, just lives?
On Clean-Up Australia day, a fine day here ar Riddells, Landcare members and Riddells Cubs and Scouts came
with 4 Wheel drive and trailer and we removed that garden waste, and much more
besides - shopping trolleys, kitchen cabinets and sofas, drink containers,
lolly wrappers, cigarette packs, all the detritus of humans, thrown away into
the land which tolerates us. It felt good (and I think I speak for the 32 other
souls who came) to clean-up this bit of bush, to make recompense, to do our
human duty, out of respect for the land and its undemanding living.
To shift
the balance back toward human decency.
Ross Colliver, Riddells Creek Landcare
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