Urban Rewilding
On a misty Friday morning in May a dozen of us stand in a circle on the banks of the Birrarung (the Yarra) in Melbourne’s inner north. Dressed in parkas, beanies and scarves, our greetings breathe halos into the fog. A smaller circle sits within ours, a ring of rocks containing the charred remains of a fire.
“What is the quietest sound you can hear in the east?” I ask, and extend my own awareness in the direction of the sunrise. I strain to pick up nuances over the sound of the nearby freeway. Sometimes I imagine the roar is that of a mountain river. However when the southerly wind blows during peak hour I can’t pretend I live in the wilderness anymore. Despite the bushy outlook, the drone of the trucks is a
