Dead little penguins wash up on multiple Eyre Peninsula beaches
The Department of Environment and Water said it was unclear at this stage if new penguin deaths on the Eyre Peninsula were linked to the ongoing algal bloom across South Australia.
The Department of Environment and Water said it was unclear at this stage if new penguin deaths on the Eyre Peninsula were linked to the ongoing algal bloom across South Australia.
Across Australian cities, leftover and overlooked green spaces are everywhere. Just think of all the land along stormwater drains, railway lines and vacant lots. While often dismissed as useless or unsightly, there’s a growing understanding of the value these spaces bring to cities.
These informal green spaces can support biodiversity and offer rare freedom to explore, play or connect with nature in a less controlled way than formal spaces such as parks. They also help to cool our cities.
My new research looks at how cities globally are rethinking overlooked green spaces. I identified three ways to unlock the value of these areas: leaving spaces intentionally unmanaged, supporting temporary or informal uses, or formalising them as parks or other public places. Each approach offers different benefits and challenges for cities trying to create greener, more liveable neighbourhoods.
Local councils are under increasing pressure to create more formal green space, with residents, at times, calling on councils to buy land for new parks. But let’s start with what’s already there.
In some cases, doing nothing can be surprisingly powerful.
When governments step back, communities and nature can step in, with potentially joyful, creative and ecologically rich results. In the Belgian capital of Brussels, for example, disused railway land, left unmanaged, has become a haven for biodiversity, offering valuable insights into how ecosystems can regenerate without human interference.
Closer to home, there are many examples of railway land being used informally as green space. One site, in the Melbourne suburb of Northcote, has become a makeshift trail used by walkers, dog owners and children on bikes. Though not officially a park, it functions like one, with its informal character fostering a sense of ownership and spontaneity among users. In the past few months, local residents have started planting native vegetation and putting up makeshift art installations, and even a swing.
But this hands-off approach has limitations. It works best where a strong sense of community, or ecological value, already exists. And while nature can bounce back in surprising ways, it often needs a helping hand.
Where informal installations already exist – such as art installations or unauthorised plantings known as guerrilla gardens – councils can support and even help grow these initiatives.
Some councils may see local-led efforts as a liability, but these efforts represent an opportunity to bring life to underused land at minimal cost. By recognising and supporting such activities, including financially, councils can empower residents to shape their own neighbourhoods in meaningful ways. This can include expanding existing installations or establishing new installations on other underused sites.
There is also benefit in local councils creating their own temporary installations such as pop-up parks. This has been shown to be an effective way to activate underused space and trial initiatives before more permanent plans are developed.
Examples include the creation of a temporary park in Ballarat Street, Yarraville in 2012. Community support for the temporary park led to the construction of a permanent park in 2014.
There are times where formal intervention is warranted – for example, where land is contaminated or supports invasive weeds. In such cases, transforming a site into a fully developed park can deliver significant benefits. Land alongside a river, road or railway line, can be readily transformed into a long “linear park” with walking trails and bike paths.
In Paris, the conversion of a former industrial railway line into a linear park is a great example, attracting both locals and tourists.
Melbourne, too, has its own success in revitalising disused infrastructure. The Greening the Pipeline project in Melbourne’s west involves converting a disused sewer main into a vibrant linear park. These projects demonstrate the benefits that can be achieved from developing high-quality, permanent public green spaces from underused land.
But formalising public use of urban green space comes at a cost, financially and otherwise: a highly designed park can crowd out the quirky, unplanned character that makes many informal spaces feel special. That’s why it’s crucial to see formalising green space as one option among many, and to reserve it for sites where potential benefits justify the investment.
If you work in urban planning or local government, resist the urge to control and replace. Look at what’s already available. Sometimes the best thing you can do is observe, step back and support. Not all public spaces need a master plan.
If you’re a resident, get out there. Start small: plant something native, or set up a swing (where safe to do so). By engaging with the green spaces already around you, you might help create your own slice of urban paradise – no land purchase required.
Hugh Stanford does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Small genetic changes in enzyme that prevents bad breath in humans lead to sulphurous scent in some asarum
With a smell of rotting flesh the flowers of certain species of wild ginger are unlikely to be used in a wedding bouquet – although they are irresistible to carrion-loving flies. Now researchers say they have worked out how the sulphurous scent is produced.
Scientists say the odour is down to small changes in an enzyme that prevents bad breath in humans.
The University of Queensland system is intended to give policymakers idea of how species traverse the oceans and what it will take to save them
Off the east coast of Florida, female loggerhead turtles swim more than 1,000km north, hugging the edge of the continental shelf to get to feeding grounds.
Humpback whales move through Moreton Bay off the Brisbane coast in Australia, on their way to feed around the Balleny Islands more than 4,000km away off the Antarctic coastline, where wandering albatross circle above, travelling 1,000km a day.
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Over the last decade, humanity’s emissions of carbon dioxide (CO?) have stabilised after a period of huge growth. Average growth is now down to just 0.6% per year, compared to 2% per year in the previous decade. But levelling off isn’t the same as declining – and we’ve levelled off at a very high rate of emissions. The Global Carbon Project estimates human activities released a record high of 10.2 gigatonnes of carbon (GtC) in 2024.
Last year, the atmosphere’s concentration of CO? rose at the fastest rate on record. Over the last decade, atmospheric CO? increased an average of 2.4 parts per million (ppm) a year. But last year, concentrations jumped by 3.5 ppm, reaching 424 ppm in the atmosphere. These concentrations are more than 50% higher than the pre-industrial period.
While we’re burning more fossil fuels than ever, recent emissions growth has been offset by falling rates of deforestation and other land use emissions.
Why are CO? concentrations still rapidly increasing? We’re still pumping massive amounts of long-buried CO? into our atmosphere. The only way for this carbon to leave the atmosphere is through natural carbon sinks – and they’re struggling to keep up.
Perched on a remote and windy clifftop on Tasmania’s northwest tip lies the Kennaook/Cape Grim Baseline Air Pollution Station. This station has an important job: monitoring baseline changes in atmospheric gases. The location was chosen because air here has travelled hundreds of kilometres over the ocean in an area unaffected by local pollution.
For decades, Australian scientists have directly measured the changes to the atmosphere here. Alongside other monitoring stations worldwide, this gives us an accurate and precise record of changes in greenhouse gases and ozone depleting chemicals in the atmosphere.
Carbon dioxide is very good at trapping heat. Over the Earth’s 4.5 billion years, pulses of CO? have created hothouse worlds, very different to the pleasant climate humans have enjoyed since the last ice age, about 11,000 years ago. The last time CO? went past 400 ppm was likely more than two million years ago.
It’s easy to confuse CO? emissions and concentrations of CO? in the atmosphere. Emissions influence atmospheric concentrations, but they are not the same.
Releasing long-buried carbon back into the atmosphere by burning fossil fuels and producing CO? emissions is like turning on the tap in a bathtub and the amount of water in the tub is the atmospheric concentration.
The Earth has natural ways of dealing with carbon dioxide. Plants, soils and oceans are carbon “sinks” – they all draw down carbon from the atmosphere and store it. Think of them as the bath’s plughole.
The problem is, we’re filling up the tub with CO? much faster than the Earth’s carbon sinks can pull them out. As a result, CO? concentration in the atmosphere rises. Atmospheric CO? matters because it is what actually influences climate.
If we apply current global emissions and scenarios where emissions decrease either steadily or rapidly to the CSIRO Simple Carbon-Climate Model, we can estimate how much our bathtub is likely to fill. These graphs show emissions must be significantly cut before we can start to see a fall in atmospheric concentration.
The single largest influence in last year’s spike in CO? concentration is likely to be changes to carbon sinks.
Every year, oceans, forests and soils absorb about half the emissions humans produce. But this figure isn’t set – it changes as the Earth’s systems change.
For instance, plants grow more in wetter years and store more carbon in their structures through photosynthesis and growth.
But climate change is making fires more intense and more frequent. As trees burn, they release stored carbon back to the atmosphere. Emissions from enormous wildfires in Canada in 2023 and South America in 2024 likely contributed to the atmospheric CO? jump.
Recent research suggests a weakened biosphere has strongly contributed. Severe droughts across the northern hemisphere in 2024 cut the ability of the planet’s soils and plant life to soak up and store CO?.
The speed at which carbon sinks soak up CO? depends on environmental conditions, which are largely out of our control. As climate change worsens, the capacity of natural carbon sinks to draw down our emissions will likely reduce.
In the bathtub analogy, water leaves the tub through the plughole. If the plughole narrows, less water can escape and our tub will fill up even faster.
The main lever we can control is the tap on the bathtub – the emissions we produce. Many nations are now cutting their emissions, but not enough to begin the sharp decline in concentration we need.
In the 1980s, the Earth’s thin, protective layer of ozone – just 10 parts per million – was being eaten away by chlorofluorocarbons (CFCs) and other chemicals in fridges, air conditioners and aerosol cans. Nations replaced these chemicals and the ozone hole began to close. Fossil fuels are far more important to our current way of life than CFCs were. But we now have good options to replace them across many industries.
This is a crucial moment. Our current rate of emissions will only cause CO? concentrations and global temperatures to rise. Natural carbon sinks will not pull out enough carbon to stabilise our climate on a time frame meaningful to humans. The earlier the action and decrease in emissions, the better our future.
Issy Borley receives funding from the Australian Bureau of Meteorology.
Cathy Trudinger does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Ray Langenfelds receives funding from the Australian Bureau of Meteorology.