The anger in that Reddit post hit me right in the gut. Here’s someone trying to do the right thing - restoring native bushland for wildlife - only to watch it get torn apart night after night by feral pigs. What makes it worse is knowing that some of these destructive animals are out there because people deliberately released them so they’d have “something to hunt.”

The photo they shared of their chewed-up land tells the whole story. Hundreds of square metres of ground torn up, native grasses dying, topsoil washing away with the next rain. It’s heartbreaking to see decades of potential recovery work undone in a single night by animals that shouldn’t even be here.

Last night brought an unexpected reminder of how close we really are to nature, even in our suburban sprawl. My wife messaged me a photo of what turned out to be an eastern long-neck turtle, casually hanging out at our front door like a late-night delivery that nobody ordered. Living in the eastern suburbs, we’re used to seeing these remarkable creatures, but usually they’re much smaller and stick to daylight hours.

The sight of a young red-necked wallaby hopping through the rain on a regenerating bush block brought an unexpected smile to my face today. While scrolling through my social feeds between debugging sessions at work, this image caught my attention and made me pause my regular routine of squashing code bugs and reviewing pull requests.

There’s something profoundly moving about seeing our native wildlife thriving in regenerated spaces. The concept of “regenerating” particularly resonates with me - it’s not just about preserving what we have, but actively working to restore what we’ve lost. Right now, with development seemingly happening on every corner of our suburbs, these glimpses of nature fighting back are more precious than ever.

Walking through our local parks these days, it’s easy to get caught up in the hustle and bustle of city life, forgetting about the remarkable creatures that share our urban spaces. Recently, a stunning photograph of an echidna caught my attention online, and it sparked some thoughts about these fascinating monotremes that have called this continent home for millions of years.

The photo captured something rarely seen - the soulful eyes of an echidna peering directly into the camera. There’s something deeply moving about seeing these typically shy creatures up close. Most of us are used to glimpsing only their spiky backs as they waddle away or curl into a defensive ball when startled.

The morning light was just breaking through my kitchen window when something caught my eye in the garden. At first glance, it looked like a moving pine cone, but there it was - a magnificent echidna, casually wandering through my yard as if it owned the place.

These encounters with native wildlife in urban areas seem to be becoming more frequent lately. Just last week, while walking through Warrandyte State Park, I spotted another echidna foraging near the trail. It’s fascinating how these prehistoric-looking creatures are adapting to life in our expanding urban landscape.