My name is 'The blue wattle.I am just one of the many hundreds of trees in my city of Bundaberg who suffered this year due to the one whom you call 'Mother Nature.'

We trees however only know her as:'Mother.'

Mother really gave us all a flogging this year,she was especially angry on November 7th.Even some of our leafy 100 year old elders were ripped out of their previously waterlogged, earth-beds, to be flung across Bundaberg's roads,cars,and rooftops.

I weep for those beautiful Green elders who will never see another Christmas .

I too was broken in half by mother's harsh 100 kilometer howling breath on that November day.

Many flora in the street where I live experienced the same fate.

Did we deserve such cruelty?Certainly not!

Hundreds of my kind died due to mothers fury,in fact most of us in the Bundaberg area were battered beyond belief.

My branches and boughs lay on the footpath for nearly a week before they took them away.

I was not pretty anymore,and by the time December came they sent humans to saw off what remained of my damaged trunk.

Here I stand now,branchless,just as high as a human's kneecap,but luckily they did not rip me out,(not yet anyway.)

Fearing that they may come back and remove me totally, I tried my hardest to sprout out a message.I used all my strength,then my message of my twigs greenery burst through this wearied bark-skin,and declared,(with three leaves,)to any human willing to listen, 'look at me,I am still alive,and I really want to live!"

I hope they respect my message.I hope they look down near the ground to see the urgent leafy-green message that I've sent.

I heard that it's the same for all of us trees in Bundaberg,(the birds and bees whispered that to me.)

Indeed,we all want to grow back.

We all want to flower again,and dance again on our mothers more gentle breath.We do not want our roots dug out.We are strong enough to regrow.

You may see other trees like me in your street,you may think that they are never going to return to their former glory.You may even think they are ugly now,but please,give them, (and me,)the chance to grow again.

Our roots are still in the ground gathering strength,recuperating,healing.

Next time when mother loses her temper we will be stronger.

We trees hear you humans talking about 'Global warming,' perhaps it's true ,for something is upsetting our mother,she's getting more and more unpredictable.

We trees,plants,shrubs,crops,and flowers are paying a harsh price.If there's anything you can do to help us,please do so.

I hope you all have a merry Christmas and happy new year.

If you have been through your own storms,be brave,if your life has also been battered,hang in there,work on growing again,recuperate.

New beautiful branches of a stronger and better life await us in the future,we ALL just need to believe this,then we ALL can heal and grow.      

 Poem by darby.13-11-24

I am an Aboriginal,

I've  watched the ancient-trees blown down,

the wind it was so violent,

it smashed the elder of them down.

 The white man wants to cull them all,

they can not see their roots  below,

those roots ARE struggling to grow tall,

they're deeper than the white men know.

I am here,I grieve those trees,

for I too know their plight,

just let US grow,

so all can know,

that everything's alright.

The storm it broke off all our stems

but our roots live still deeply,

and if you want to be our friends

leave us ALL to heal ...compleately.