For those who know their ancient
mythology, the fact that there is an environmental park called CERES should be
of no surprise. As to whether the park was named after the Roman goddess of
agriculture or merely an acronym of it’s full title, the Centre for Education
and Research in Environmental Strategies, is a matter up for debate, but it
does give the park a certain mystical air.
In 1974 however, CERES was nothing more than one point of an
environmental Bermuda Triangle that was that short section of the Merri Creek.
The bend of the creek on which CERES now sits was a four-hectare council tip;
the opposite bank occupied by a large industrial estate with large stormwater
drains pouring directly into the creek, and completing the triangle was an
electrical terminal station not far to the south. The animals and native plants
began to disappear, replaced with weeds and non-native pests able to withstand
the harsher conditions. The brown colour of the creek’s water was as much a
result of the creeks industrial history, as the clay-rich mud of the creek bed.
In 1981 a group of socially aware, like-minded individuals sought
to change that. Securing the lease for the four-hectare site, they began
moulding the neglected land into a place that the whole community could enjoy,
and the following year CERES opened to the public for the first time.
The birth of the Sacred Kingfisher Festival, one of CERES most
important festivals, is almost as mystical as the evolution of CERES itself; a
single moment that instantly became of a part of the environmental park’s
history and folklore. In 1994 a simple environmental education class was being
run for children in one of CERES educational classrooms when an intruder burst in
through the open door. Not pausing to
introduce itself, the intruder proceeded at the same pace until it smashed into
the wall opposite and stunned, fell to the ground.
Far from an unwelcome guest, the intruder turned out to be
none other than the rare sacred kingfisher, a bird that had been absent from its
Merri Creek habitat for many years as a result of the damage human activities caused to
the surrounding environment. For the volunteers at CERES, the return of this
bird served as vindication for the hard work they had put in to rejuvenating
the area, something that should be celebrated. The Return of the Sacred
Kingfisher Festival was born.
My own somewhat rose-tinted memories tap into the mysticism
of the Festival. My primary school would
arrange excursions to attend the festival, and with a sense of adventure we
would walk along the Merri Creek (from which the school derived its name) to
CERES. The entrance to the park from the creek side is obscured by large
eucalypts, as if to protect it from prying eyes, and entrance can only be
gained through two arches, one of wood and one constructed entirely of bicycle
wheel rims, welded together, like something from Colin Thompson's The Paperbag Prince. But
once through the arches we emerged into another world and were confronted by a large figure, hooded, beaked and wearing large azure wings. The sacred kingfisher, in
human form, and through music and dance would tell the kingfisher’s story.
For almost twenty years the Festival has been held at the
same time and place, in a high-energy celebration of the kingfishers
return. Over the years the festival has
evolved to incorporate music and arts and crafts to attract a larger crowd, but
the importance of the environment, and environmental awareness has always been
at the core of the festival. But after nearly two decades as a major event and
attraction for CERES, this years Festival will be the last.
The decision to wind down the festival was not one the CERES
took lightly. As Sieta Beckwith, CERES Communications and Venue Hire Manager, explains
there were a range of contributing factors to the decision:
“There is a distinct lack of arts funding due
to both changes in government and lack of capacity to apply for these grants
amongst current CERES staff. As an organisation we are in a period of
consolidation and currently only have capacity to run one festival a year, the
Autumn Harvest festival fits best the skill set of our current staff. Due to
the high energy, cathartic and memorable Kingfisher Festivals of previous years
and our current inability to deliver the same level of festival where people
can understand the story and celebrate together, we would rather finish on a
high and remember the return of the kingfisher in different ways.”
Ms Beckwith also highlighted that the natural attrition of a
volunteer organisation played a part in the Festival’s demise. None of the
volunteers who participated in the original celebrations remain at CERES, so
the festival had lost its direct link with its past. The timing of the event,
in late October, also put it in direct competition with other local events,
which meant that none of these events could attract crowds as large as they
could wish.
But the demise of the Kingfisher Festival in no way means
that the importance of its message is lost. Rather than mourning the loss of
the festival, the volunteers at CERES intend to deliver its message by
integrating it into the diverse education programs offered at CERES. Stressing
the importance of environmental awareness is an underlying motive of the
programs run for school students. These programs often involve practical tasks
such as students collecting water samples from the nearby Merri Creek to
examine the water quality and the creatures that live in the creek.
The health of the Merri Creek is a concern not only for
CERES but other environmental groups as well. Unlike CERES, which focuses on
the improvements made in the health of the creek, the Friends of the Merri
Creek are vocal in how much work still needs to be done. “The Merri Creek is
still one of the dirtiest waterways in Melbourne,” says the volunteer
organisation’s secretary Robert Redford, before simply adding that the creek’s
water quality is “very bad.” The work that the Friends of the Merri Creek have
done in clean-ups and re-vegetation (often in conjunction with CERES) is
according to Mr Redfern a drop in the ocean compared to what needs to be done.
The health of the creek has become somewhat of personal
crusade for Mr Redford. Separate from his commitments at Friends of the Merri
Creek, he has built a photographic journal of evidence against the industrial
estate opposite CERES. Over the years he has taken pictures of rubbish dumping,
chemical spillages and soil erosion on the industrial estate, all of which he
claims ends up in the nearby creek. He
has even sent this log of evidence to the Darebin City Council in an attempt to
prompt the council into some sort of action against the owners of the estate,
“if you want to keep it, you have to look after it,” he says.
Whether it was the soft diplomacy employed by CERES to
spread the environmental message or the more direct action of Robert Redford,
changes for the benefit of the area are occurring, albeit slowly. In April this
year Darebin council voted unanimously in favour of a motion to re-zone the
industrial estates opposite CERES which, pending the State government’s
approval, would open the land up for residential development. But while at
first glance this looks like a business decision, local Greens councillor Trent
McCarthy said that the plan would also have a positive effect on the environment.
The Sacred Kingfisher (Source: http://www.mdahlem.net) |
Much of this concern must be attributed to the work of CERES
and the Kingfisher Festival in the promotion of environmental awareness through
community engagement. For without it
would be hard to motivate people to see the environment as worthy of protection
not only for their own benefit, but also as being worthy of protection in its
own right.
While this year’s festival may have been the last and was a
distinctly low-key affair, the legacy it leaves is cannot be understated. Many
of the signs and buildings at CERES are adorned with the kingfisher, like an
unofficial logo for the park. But more importantly the return of the kingfisher
serves as a symbol; that with hard work and dedication to a cause, things that
are miraculous, and almost magical, can happen.