Every tree here - the long arms of the River Red Gum stretching across the billabong, the dense red blossom of the Red Ironbark, the hectic yellow of so many species of wattle in bloom now - is less than 45 years old. I can’t get my head around it as I wander the edge of the wetlands, coffee in hand, the birds raucous as they circle and land on the water, take off again at my intrusion.
In 1978, when Sue Forrester and Bill Molyneux bought this place in Dixon’s Creek just out of Melbourne, it was a flat, treeless and overgrazed five acres of cow paddocks. Exactly what they were looking for. As horticulturalists, landscape designers and passionate advocates for regeneration they wanted a block of land where they could create a habitat that would allow them to live in balance with local wildlife and provide a permanent sanctuary.
After a year of observing the weather, the inclinations of the land, the natural drainage lines - they commenced building their timber and mudbrick home, then onto the landscaping of the wetlands and the planting.
Now - 48 years later - the billabong teems with over 100 species of birds, including the pair of nesting White-faced herons who were born here that I watch stretch their wings and take off over the water, looping back to the nest of sticks on the island. The creek is home to a chorus of frogs who sang me to sleep last night as rain drummed on the tin roof of The Burrow - the little cottage I have retreating in for the next few nights.
I have work to do: so much work. When Sue first invited me to The Burrow* I booked my stay to take place back in May: planning to come here and finish the copyedit of The Hiding Place. But the calendar grew monstrous and I rescheduled, planning, this time, to book some days far ahead in the year when I might run away to write my final milestone for my PhD. Things never go quite as planned, huh? Now, having officially withdrawn from my PhD, signed off on the final proofread of that novel which is now being printed for release in less than two months, and neck deep in teaching work and preparation for hosting events and writers’ festival panels; I am here to crack through the to do list, albeit with a healthy dose of reading, sleeping and swooning over the home-cooked meals Sue delivers to me hot in a little basket.
It is quiet here. I have not had quiet for a long time. The birds and frogs, wind and rain make a racket, yes - it is my brain that is quietening. This morning I did not whirlwind through the hundreds of tiny tasks and decisions and prompts that each morning getting the house off to their various things, entails. I did not set an alarm for the pilates I love but which fits mostly in the time I could be sleeping. I did not check messages and invites and threads to try and remember where I had to be at what time and do what for whom.
In her latest wonderful newsletter Jodi Wilson says: the world will not slow down for you - yes, yes, yes, I think when I read her words. I’ve been dipping in to a cheeky early copy of Jodi’s new book A Brain that Breathes (out Jan 2026). In the book, she writes with the calm, steady, practical wisdom she employs in her newsletter Practising Simplicity , going deeper into brain science and practical tools for slowing down and making space for life, creativity and mental wellness. I urge you to put this one on your TBR list for 2026 or pre-order. But back to her latest newsletter where she celebrates the small things in her days that provide stillness:
These things: walking out of my way to look at blossoms up close, wiping the windows free of winter dust and small fingerprints, sorting and organising clothes, standing back to admire washing as it billows, are so ordinary. They probably look like nothing, or at least not much at all. But they are small moments of stillness that provide clarity; they slow me down and hone my attention.
Jodi’s words, my being here, remind me how integral retreating is to my practice, and to my own mental health. I vow to book a block of time here in 2026 before I leave. Like booking in a long inhale and exhale in my future.
The light and the wind and the bird action have changed again while I’ve being sitting here. There are only crumbs where my toast and raspberry jam were (local and ‘a little bit magic’ says Sue) and my coffee cup is empty. I have to get out of my hoodie and make myself presentable for an important online meeting. I’ve got to start on the list.
But I’m still mind-blown and even exhilarated looking out this window at the enormous trunks of the river red and manna gum, the blossoming canopies of the wattles, the birds, the birds, the birds, and reconciling that they are all here at the vision of two humans who wanted to create something that would last, that would outlast them.
I have so many questions for Bill and Sue when they pop in to chat and drop off my dinner; how big were the saplings when you put them in (Bill makes a shape with his hands, so small), has the wetland ever run dry (not yet, it’s got close). We talk rivers and Bill’s early days jackarooing and Sue’s cooking on mine sites and their shared philosophy of their relationship with this place; that they are stewards, not owners, of this land and sanctuary.
I think about how we destroy things slowly and oh so fast - extracting from the earth, poisoning a river, bleaching a reef, a double-tap strike, a genocide. To create and regenerate requires long-term thinking, to conceive of the world as much longer and bigger than the frantic pace of our little lives.
You can - literally - grow a forest in under fifty years. I sit and look at these huge gums, listen to the chorus of birds and frogs, a dream made real. I think of all the things a person, a community, a government might create if they thought in spans of fifty years - longer. Imagine what we could do.
K x
What I’ve been
Reading
Song of a Thousand Seas - Zana Fraillon. A glorious new verse novel of Houdini the octopus, human/animal connection and longing for the sea.
The Hollow Girl - Lyn Yeowart. New literary suspense set in the 60s and 70s at Harrowford Hall - ‘a safe haven for lost girls’. The twists keep coming in this gripping thriller, grounded in research into forced adoptions. I’ll be chatting with Lyn, alongside Kelly Gardiner, Sharmini Kumar and Belinda Lyons-Lee this coming weekend at Port Fairy!
Mad Mabel - Sally Hepworth. Clever, thrilling, twisty as you would expect from Hepworth, plus Mabel is an absolute cracker of a character! I’ll be hosting Sally at Brighton Town Hall on Oct 7 - already sold out but there might be a waitlist!
Tenderfoot - Toni Jordan. Believe the hype and reviews - this is Jordan’s best book yet. Wrote about it here.
Until the Red Leaves Fall - Alli Parker. Fabulous historical fiction grounded in Parker’s family history and always compelling and clever. Wrote about it here.
I’ve been focussing on getting my news from people and places. I urge you to check out these two insightful writers exploring some of the issues our mainstream media continue to misinform or bluster over: Randa Abdel-Fattah in Deepcut and Daniel James in The Spencer Street End.
Experiencing
Bangarra Illume - if you can possibly get tickets to the Melbourne season of this extraordinary work by Bangarra - do it. The staging and choreography is superb, the dancers phenomenal. Breathtaking.
Got coming up
It seems there is no longer writers festival ‘season’ it just carries on all year and I am very grateful to be a part of so many! Festivals and launches coming up and some early tour announcements for The Hiding Place - the whole tour will be up very soon - hopefully I’m coming to a place near you! Would love to see you x
Port Fairy Lit Festival Friday 12-Sunday 14 September. I’ll be joining the Indoor Street Party on Sat 10.30-12.30pm for kids and grown ups and hosting Mystery and Untold Stories at 5.30pm. Such a great line up for this fest - weekend passes and single events tix available.
Hosting Mark Mupotsa-Russell at Verso Books on Thursday 18th September to discuss his brilliant new novel The Wolf Who Cried Boy. Tix here.
Mansfield Writers Festival October 11-12. Huge program and I’m delighted to be taking part in a number of conversations and events. Check out the full program. Weekend passes and individual session tix available here.
Canberra Writers Festival October 23-26. Absolutely jam-packed program this year! I’ll be hosting Brigid Delaney and later Lucinda Price (Froomes) and Maddison Griffiths and also chatting about The Hiding Place! All tix here.
Some events released for The Hiding Place tour including Heads and Tales, Escape Hatch Books with Anna Snoekstra, Eltham Bookshop, Antipodes in Sorrento and heading to Meeniyan with Mark Mupotsa-Russell and Nice Stack. Keep your eye on my socials for the full tour including capital city events coming very soon!
Literary Listings Lunch Nov 28. Oh this has become one of my favourite literary events of the year! This year Michael Williams will be hosting Toni Jordan, Mark Brandi and myself over a delicious lunch at Elwood Bathers, with book sales by Avenue Bookstore. Tix here.
* I’ve been generously gifted my stay here courtesy of Sue and Bill at The Burrow and via MWF, but I’ll be coming back! As can you. The Burrow is perfectly set up for a solo writing retreat - close to Melbourne - you can self-cater and arrange for dinner to be supplied (and it is delicious and wonderful!). Find details and booking link here and subscribe to the newsletter.
Excellent timing! I have a voucher for my local bookshop burning a hole in my inbox and you've given me the perfect place to direct it. Am so looking forward to reading
Very much looking forward to seeing you this weekend, Kate! I can't believe how much work you manage to get through whilst keeping your trademark enthusiasm ... that retreat is definitely not only well-earned but likely essential. xxx