Honi Soit
WEEK 3, SEMESTER 2, 2021
FIRST PRINTED 1929
IN THIS EDITION
David Verse Goliath: on USyd’s cuts to poetry AMELIA RAINES / P. 6
To August SHANIA O’BRIEN / P. 17
A
ugust is the sun. It is aureate light upon the garden floor illuminating the softened, verdant grass. I walk barefoot across the sward and think of home, of my gossamer curtains billowing in the gentle wind, my mother’s twinkling eyes as we sit on the balcony and watch the bougainvillea, my grandmother’s face as mango pulp stains her hands. In these memories I am safe, I exist in a glass house where no harm can touch me. For most of my life, August was Summer’s eleventh hour. Come September and October, the chill will creep in and force the sun to hide behind canopies of dark, the only light filtering through in dapples on frosted mud.
Reflections on chen pi VIVIENNE GUO / P. 16 You can tell that it’s mandarin season when the winds start to blow a little colder in May. It’s late July now and Imperial mandarin season is waning, the growing absence filled by the unfolding harvests of Hickson, Afourer, and Daisy varieties . . .
Conservation conversations: then and now The evolution of our approach to sustainability and preservation of flora and fauna.
A
s one of ten thousand who have chosen to seek refuge from human lands here during the sweltering summer, the jostling crowd makes me feel caged. But as I foray further and further down the paths, I am immersed into a different
world each time. In the morning I am underwater, sprayed by a cheeky seal and enrapt by the gaping pelican. By noon I have flown to Sumatra, and spend my time tiger-spotting as they hide under cool leaves. As the air cools I am in a rainforest, a menagerie of butterflies and birds dart above my head, painting a rainbow. The sun sets and I wave the tarantulas goodbye, pressing
my finger against the glass as if I am touching his furry limb. As I leave, I fondly recall how I saw the animals of the world in one short day. The modern behemoth of Taronga Zoo had humble beginnings as New South Wales’ first public zoo in 1884, situated in Moore Park. However, within twenty years, the zoo’s Secretary Albert Le Souef decided the space was too small,
ARIANA HAGHIGHI / P. 12 and no innovation could be born in austerity. The Zoological Trust sought a beautiful region of land overlooking Sydney’s dazzling Sydney Harbour shores, and brought Noah’s Ark to shame with the transfer process of animals to the Mosman oasis. On 7 October, 1916, the gates were opened and guests began flooding in like a gush of water through a ruptured dam.
