Emma Garlett: Changes to the seasons are the land telling us it is stressed

As the hot easterly winds begin to scorch the morning air and the brilliant orange flowers of the Moodjar (Christmas tree) burst into bloom, we know that Birak has arrived. For Noongar people, this is the season of the young. It is a time when the fledgling magpies and parrots leave their nests, venturing out as the heat intensifies. Traditionally, this season — roughly aligning with December and January — was a time of careful, active land management. It was when we utilised karl (fire) to practice mosaic burning, clearing the undergrowth to prevent devastating wildfires and stimulate the germination of seeds for the coming year. However, looking out across Boodja (country) today, the signals are becoming confused. The rhythm of the land is faltering, disrupted by the accelerating reality of climate change. The heating climate means that hot seasons like Birak and the subsequent Bunuru are arriving earlier and lingering longer. Our seasons have never been dictated by the rigid dates of a Gregorian calendar; they are triggered by environmental indicators — the flowering of the banksia, the movement of the wind, the migration of fish. But climate instability is warping these indicators. When the heat hits too hard and too fast, the window for traditional cultural burning shrinks. What was once a tool for regeneration becomes a risk, as the land becomes too dry to burn safely. We are seeing the consequences in our waterways, too. As sea levels rise, saltwater intrusion creeps into our freshwater basins, threatening the water quality and the survival of freshwater species like the marron. The land is speaking, and it is telling us that it is stressed. Yet, in this crisis, there is a pathway forward, one that has been trodden for tens of thousands of years. We must reintegrate Indigenous knowledge systems into modern environmental management. It is heartening to see that Western science is beginning to catch up. Oceanographers and environmental scientists are increasingly adopting the Noongar six seasons model because, as recent studies have shown, it better represents the ecological variations of the South-West coast than the four European seasons. This is not just semantic; it is a recognition that you cannot manage a landscape you do not truly understand. We are seeing designers trial biophilic urbanism, weaving traditional Noongar cultural landscaping into our concrete cities to heal urban ecosystems. But we must go further. As Professor Stephen van Leeuwen advocates, we need a biocultural approach to land management. We cannot separate the health of the ecosystem from the health of the culture; they are intertwined. Conservation must be Indigenous-led. When we manage culturally significant species, we are not just ticking a box for international biodiversity obligations; we are maintaining the spirit of the place. As we seek relief from the heat in the cool afternoon breeze of the Fremantle doctor, we need to remember that adaptation is in our blood. But adaptation requires listening. If we want to survive the heating of Birak, we must stop fighting the land and start listening to the ancient knowledge it holds. Emma Garlett is a legal academic and Nylyaparli-Yamatji-Nyungar woman