The invitation came in for a cultural burn workshop.
Small patch/mosaic burns in an open grassland area.
Teaching the firestick method — a traditional Aboriginal fire management practice.
A practice that encourages the germination of indigenous seed, reduces fire hazards, keeps Country healthy and supports the wellbeing of Aboriginal people.
A practice used for thousands of years and by hundreds of generations of custodians of these lands, custodians whose deep, intimate knowledge of the landscape — the land, water, sky, plants, animals, insects, birds, weather, seasons and people and the interrelationship between them all — was crafted into an extensive knowledge system to look after Country.
Country — life, identity, purpose, obligation, belonging, spiritual connection.
The Mooroopna sandhills: a place of long connection and ancient stories, long before settlement.
Of coming together around wulumbarra — a communal fire.
It was happening here, on the lands of the Freshwater people, on Kaieltheban Country in Mooroopna.
The wide blue sky was clear, the weather kind, the harsh temperatures of the past days had moderated, as if Country was preparing for the burn.
There were cars, lots of cars and a fire truck — such a symbol of fire — sitting to the side.
Again, as in the ancient past, there was a communal fire. The fire, centred in the ceremonial circle, the source of the cleansing dhonga (smoke).
Everyone gathered around the circle — welcomed into its communality. Children, young people, students, adults. A community of sharing and learning.
Dance, song — singing up Country — all part of the obligations of caring for Country.
All part of a generous welcome to be part of something special, something ancient and yet current. As if time was folding back on itself.
To observe, to learn, to absorb.
To watch people as part of the landscape, caring for Country so Country could care and provide in return.
To witness the joy on the faces, the care and love as the small clumps of grass were lit, the gentle smoke slowly curling into the air.
To learn about the right fire for the right place.
A sense of purpose and, at the same time, a calmness in the actions.
The flames trickling like water across the landscape, across Country that was thick with bindiis and other introduced weeds.
Healing flames, helping to restore balance to the land, the slow progress of the fire allowing insects and other small creatures time to move away.
Allowing the people to walk with the gentle flames, lighting small areas as needed.
Young trees, carefully planted well before the burn with their leaves barely peeking above their protective guards, stood in the grass.
Would they burn?
The gentle flames creeping close but deflected by the surrounding barrier scratched into the earth — a barrier carefully made by the Yorta Yorta Woka Walla rangers, protecting, caring and learning.
The fire, taking its time, with just enough heat to slowly burn the grass. Behaving the way it’s expected to — the land showing that the knowledge being demonstrated is true.
The use of fire, depending on an understanding of the climate, knowing the terrain and deep knowledge of ecosystems: recognising what trees were dominant, what plants and animals were present in different areas. Understanding the markers that indicated it was time to burn.
Working with the Yorta Yorta Nation Aboriginal Corporation and local Traditional Owner, Mick Bourke, from Wulumbarra. Victor Steffensen, co-founder and lead fire practitioner of the Firestick Alliance and the National Indigenous Fire Workshop and author of the book Fire Country, talks about this use of fire encouraging “all the young and upcoming generations to be the turning point of reconnecting humanity with land and culture again”.
To be able to use their knowledge of their Country to help heal the landscape.
Fire management is not only a tool to heal Country, it’s also a way to open doors to cultural knowledge and pride.
“You must take notice of everything on Country. The Country is where the knowledge comes from,” Mr Steffensen said.
“Reading the landscape is a skill where the land is the boss and tells us what to do. Aboriginal people have perfected this technique in synergy with the environment for thousands of years.”
As the fire continued its gentle path across the landscape and the smoke rose upwards into the blue sky, seven wedge-tailed eagles soared above — witnesses to an ancient knowledge being brought back into the shaping of today’s Country.
The idea of wulumbarra — communal fire, sharing, working together, care for Country, care of each other, care for all creatures — so clearly demonstrated.
It was humbling to be invited and exciting to watch the old knowledge being put into practice. There was also hope that, as Mr Steffensen says, this ancient knowledge being demonstrated, “helps people have a better understanding of what fire really means and why it is so important”.
To bring about a change in the potential of landscape to nurture and to provide for all — people, animals, insects, birds. A healthy balance in the landscape to feed the body, mind and spirit.
To find out more about Cultural Burning read Fire Country by Victor Steffensen. You can find it in your local library, or purchase it through local booksellers.