The two-metre goanna furtively edged backward down the palm, exposing itself gradually from the canopy of fronds hanging like a closed umbrella that had been hiding it from view and protecting it from the elements. Recent rain had made the surface slippery. It slid, and fell unceremoniously into a croton bush, then froze in an effort to remain undetected.

A wallaby raised its head and twitched its ears, its attention caught by the movement. Finding nothing to fear, it continued chewing on the new growth of lush green grass.

Nature in its glory you may think – unfortunately not so. Wonderful to witness it may be, but not in the backyard of a beach suburb in far North Queensland because development is squeezing them out of their natural habitat and leaving them nowhere else to go. With a small patch of rainforest behind an easement and a seldom-used football field as their only escape route from wandering dogs that get their scent and then start hunting them down. Sometimes, sending the startled animals bounding out through an open gate and down bitumen roads to certain death; if not by dogs, then cars!

Native birds: big ones like butcherbirds, leathernecks and drongos; small ones like yellow spotted honeyeaters and flycatchers, all line up to take their turn at bathing in the concrete pond by the shed. Better than nothing perhaps, though it hardly compares with the billabong that was, but is no longer: filled in now, and destined to become a playground. What happened to the turtles? The fish? The water chestnuts and lilies?

How could they do that? How could they deprive wildlife, the natural waterhole that so many relied their existence upon?

With ease, it seems, and no sense of loss, or conscience either. Though they did do it secretly. Promised to keep it while the submission was being considered, then said they changed their mind, and did it before anyone figured out what was going on. Now it’s too late. Gone forever!

Just like the native trees and bushland bulldozed to squeeze more houses onto tiny blocks of now desolate earth. When we have so much vacant land available, why do they have to take the most valuable to nature, squandering precious commodities. All in the name of progress: a synonym these days for development and the power those dollars command.

Gaia, I’m sorry, I apologise for not being able to stop your destruction. My empathy and regret make no difference. The only thing left for me to do is send you healing. “Nunginah, nunginah, nunginah Tia.”

In giving, so too do I receive. So send it back Gaia, for I need healing too. Heal me so I can stop my useless tears that grieve for what’s been lost. Heal my heart that breaks for the damage and destruction that humanity has wreaked upon you. Heal me so I can continue to help you however I can.

“Nunginah, nunginah, nunginah Tia.
Mother, mother, mother earth.
Beloved Gaia.”