What is a river to you?
The movement lines of water in the Kimberley replicate trees, root-systems, mountain ranges, mycelium; a sight from above which remains the most remarkable piece of art I have seen. Enchanting when I was five years old on my first solo flight from Broome to Perth, and every single time since.
I reminisce on where I come from, my boodja, birthplace, because I have had the privilege of asking the organisers of this year’s Riverfest the same one question; what is a river to you? Which has unfurled my own imagining.
To think of a river is to think of home. I can hear her song as she scours the land searching for the sea. Falling, falling, falling.
I share the home I now live in with a river that is drowning in agricultural runoff. We surfers get sick from the toxins that flow from our rivers into our ocean after a heavy rain. We surfers can choose to not get in, to watch from the land as the ocean tries to heal itself. Months may go by, as they did this year. Hearts may break, as mine did this year. But what about everyone whose very survival depends on healthy water systems? Those that live in it?
We need to learn to value their voices as much as we do our own.
I recently received two books from the Indigenous publishing house Magabala Books, one of which is a collection of First Nations poetic conversations from the Fair Trade project titled Woven. The collection was edited by a new friend, Anne-Marie Te Whiu, who described Magabala Books as “a treasure house in the publishing landscape” when she learned I worked for them in my early twenties. I couldn’t agree more. Within Woven, I happened upon Jazz Money and Cassandra Barnett’s piece titled ‘Sky Rivers’, and this stuck:
and what’s more true than a river
only the air it bends to
I’m learning every day
it takes every gesture to care for the whole
and the place where current begins can lead back
to where muck remembers.
Riverfest is a month of conversation, action, storytelling, and connection, along the banks of the Richmond River. The festival will move upstream from Ballina to Lismore, launching with an event next Sunday the 28th of September. I encourage every one of our readers in the region to attend, because the awful reality is that an unhealthy river will eventually fall into every single living thing’s lap. Maybe you don’t know how to tell the health of a river, possibly you haven’t noticed, but the river, the creeks, the tributaries, of the Richmond catchment need us to rally around it.
The launch event includes river yarns with everybody's favourite surfer, and The Rivers Run Founder, Dave Rastovich, commercial fisherman John Joblin, Bundjalung writer Ella Noah Bancroft, and Revive Northern Rivers’, Tom Wolff. Throughout the day conversations covering fishkill events and river restoration will be led by OzFish, figures from the Byron and Lismore Council, and the Jagun Alliance. It will be held where the river meets the sea, Fawcett park in Ballina. You can view the full program here.
A river is a living system; an entity unto itself that sees and feels things much like we do as people. To connect with a river over a lifetime is to make a friend, someone you come to understand on a deeper level and ultimately someone you’ll do whatever you can to care for and celebrate.
From Tom Wolff, Rous County Council and Revive Northern Rivers.
A river to me is a place of connection. Connection to people, connection to country and connection to the sea.
My fondest memories of rivers are those filled with connection. Be that in moments of solitude in nature, grounded by the river’s flow, paddle in hand, or those spent frolicking underwater with friends, on a rare blue day in the Richmond, watching schools of fish pass by, having their daily meal before heading back out to sea or upstream. Meanwhile on the surface, there is a whole other world of bliss, as kids jump into the water, fisho's reel it in, and laughter fills the wharf.
It is memories like this that make it so very clear to me that in some way or another, rivers really do connect us all. And it is through that connection that we can bring them back to good health.
From Zoe White, OzFish and President of Richmond Riverkeeper Association.
A river to me is life! We are water and rivers are what connect us to our watery selves and each other. The river is my teacher and I learn with gratitude. The river, Mamaang Balun, here known as the Wilsons River is where I grew up and what connects me to place and people.
From Kristin den Exter, Wilsons River Landcare Group and Richmond Riverkeeper Association.
If you had asked me this question a year ago, I wouldn’t have had much to say. But now, in my final year of a Bachelor of Environmental Science majoring in Marine Systems, and after completing my internship with Richmond Riverkeeper, my mindset has completely shifted. I’ve gained a much deeper understanding of what a river means to me and just how vital rivers are.
To me, a river is about connectivity. Its tributaries meander through different parts of Country, all eventually flowing to the ocean.
The ocean has always been a special place for me, and it’s the reason I chose this degree. After all it has given me throughout my life, I wanted to contribute something in return. In the first year of my study, I had a limited understanding of what marine science and ocean conservation truly entail. I wasn’t very interested in anything ‘terrestrial’, and whenever my professors spoke about river systems or soil health, I tended to switch off.
That perspective completely shifted during my oceanography unit, when I wrote a report on nutrient flux variations during a flood event in the Coffs Creek. I realised just how severely the ocean is affected by an unhealthy river system, and that understanding what’s going on upstream is vital for understanding the chemical, biological and physical changes that are occurring in our oceans.
That shift deepened during my internship with Richmond Riverkeeper. Working and learning alongside people across the Richmond region, all focused on the same river system, showed me how much a river truly connects culture and community. The Richmond River showed me how a river can bring such a diverse range of people and communities together, all linked by their love and passion to care for it. It was a powerful reminder that rivers connect us all.
So, what is a river to me? A river is not just a resource. It is a living connector, binding land to sea and people to each other.
From Montanna Coulson, Richmond Riverkeeper intern.
The Richmond River is the backbone of my home. It has given me a place to exercise, a place to create memories, and a place to connect.
I moved to the Lismore area 30 years ago and have always found myself drawn to the Richmond catchment with my sons, family, and friends — looking for places to swim, to kayak, and simply to be near the water.
Water calls to me. Even though I don’t swim in the main river, I have shared many picnics and swims along its tributaries. I feel the water’s pull — I’ve swum in countless waterholes across the region. Each one offers something different: healing, joy, and connection.
The river has also carried me on bigger journeys. I once paddled from Lismore to Ballina as part of Paddle for Life, a fundraiser that deepened my respect for the river’s power and presence. To travel its length in that way was to experience its moods and rhythms — a reminder of how the river connects us from the mountains to the sea.
These days, I swim regularly at Shaws Bay. The joy I find there is inseparable from the health of the Richmond itself. When the river thrives, so too do the places where we gather, swim, and restore ourselves.
For me, the river is life, memory, and belonging. It flows through my story here, grounding me in place, and reminding me of the deep ties between water, land, and community.
From Aliison Kelly, Jagun Alliance Aboriginal Corporation.
The Aboriginal led, Lismore-based organisation Jagun Alliance is looking for landholders with properties with creeks, tributaries, wetlands, river-systems as a part of the three-year project Heal the Rivers. The project aims to provide ecological restoration by integrating indigenous knowledge systems to one-hundred sites from the Tweed to the Clarance and every LGA in-between. Spread the word.
Courtesy of two recommendations made by Montanna Coulson, we would encourage you to listen to Zoe White’s story on why ocean lovers need to look upstream, in the latest We Are The Riverkeepers Podcast. And read the article Australia’s Rivers Are Ancestral Beings by Pelizzon, Poelina, and O'Donnell, 2022.
If you’re interested in preservation efforts on the front-line of water extraction proposals in my home-river, the Martuwarra, or Fitzroy River, you can hear from The Voices of The River in this mini docu-series.
This week I also found myself watching the film River, on abc Iview, which is remarkably sound-scored by the Australian Chamber Orchestra, and fizzing with life. Released in 2021, Willem Dafoe (narrator) aptly says “Humans have long loved rivers, but as we have learned to harness their power, have we also forgotten to revere them? To be truly alive, a river must be wild. Willful, and unhindered.” From the soundtrack, with vocals by William Barton, please take a listen to Spirit Voice of the Enchanted Waters.
The artworks included in this piece are home for me. Expansive rivers, gorges, billabongs, estuaries, all dot my dreaming of the Kimberley. The artists’ names and artworks are from Original and Authentic Aboriginal Art.