For 2026 International Day of Forests and World Poetry Day, which happen to both coincide on the 21st of March every year, Yuin poet, Kaitlen Wellington, visited 'Big Spotty' and wrote a poem inspired by the experience.

We'd like to thank Kaitlen for her incredible poem that highlights Big Spotty's immense life-giving force and ecosystem, and the relationship with Traditional Custodians' storytelling, resistance, and strength. 

Read the poem below.

Photo credit: Andrew Kaineder

Return to yourself

by Kaitlen Wellington

Published March 2026

Follow the tug on your spirit

travel down the coast like the Old People

Through Dharawal, Wodi-Wodi,

Jerrinja, Wandi-wandandian

to Walbunja, Murramurrang

Stand at the base on dewy, slick dirt and leaves – all shades of autumn

Eyes trail Mothers trunk that twists to her limbs

that bend and curve outward, until they uphold her crown of eucalyptus

Straining your neck to get a full view

buna buna falls like a stary haze of droplets that cleanses your aura

willy-wag tail flutters, singing out to the others hidden in the thick bush – that is their village

Mother Tree beckons to place your palm upon her shield

Seeing clear resemblance and contrast

spotted gum, like your spotted arms

hyper-pigmentation, varying shades and wrinkles

Your skin, just like hers

a manifesto of spirit born into flesh

you are one and the same

flawed, beautiful and worthy of love

Vibrations of songs seep from her heart, thrumming through your veins

Visions cross your mind of the many people who’ve travelled near and far

For whale ceremony further south, corroborree under Gulaga

Kaitlen’s great-great grandmother and grandfather picking beans at Eurobodalla

Visions of the Old People living in harmony near and far

who resisted the colonisers invasion and the spilling of innocent blood

their greed claiming the land as if they own it – as if anyone does

Visions of despair as colonisers marginalised the Traditional Custodians near and far

attempting assimilation, disrupting the foundations of Ancient cultures and communities

that tipped the scales of balance and how every being sits on the land

The weight is heavy, dread fills your bones

sinking to your knees, dampness of forest floors fills your nose

turning your body, placing your back against Mother’s trunk

You face her village of lush green native trees

vines that snake and wind

the slopes of a hilly landscape

shredded bark caught on wooden limbs

cabbage-palm trees in clusters

and the family of gums that are spread out, circling Mother Tree

Buna buna is a soft murmur, echoing across the canopy

the world has stopped, as you sit in stillness

You can see now her resistance provides a safe haven

for the precious lives of goannas, lyrebirds, us black cockatoos

and the flora and fauna that remain

A safe haven for those she calls to seek solace in her crevices

so they can surrender to her divine embrace

Taking their pain and tears

grounding them in light and truth

sharing wisdom from her sacred roots

that emerged from the many lessons

from her own journey, visions she’s witnessed

and the stories shared by those who visit

Mother Tree holds all those stories in the lines

that lead to her heart that has sung for over five hundred years

Now you see why the bushfires just missed her

those tall light beings left her unharmed

so she can remind us who we are

that we come from the land

and one day we will return

Mother Tree and yourself

are a reflection, mirrors

her a spotted gum

like your spotted arms

About the poet