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  <name>House of Assembly</name>
  <date date="2022-09-28T10:30:00+09:30" />
  <sessionName>Fifty-Fifth Parliament, First Session (55-1)</sessionName>
  <parliamentNum>55</parliamentNum>
  <sessionNum>1</sessionNum>
  <parliamentName>Parliament of South Australia</parliamentName>
  <house>House of Assembly</house>
  <venue></venue>
  <reviewStage>published</reviewStage>
  <startPage num="1689" />
  <endPage num="1767" />
  <dateModified time="2023-07-06T08:37:23+09:30" />
  <proceeding continued="true">
    <name>Grievance Debate</name>
    <subject>
      <name>Black Forest Trees</name>
      <text id="20220928d3d7adfa43e8491990000987">
        <heading>Black Forest Trees</heading>
      </text>
      <talker role="member" id="5376" referenceid="fcfbe01f0d2f478eb089538bd8ded69b" kind="speech">
        <name>Ms STINSON</name>
        <house>House of Assembly</house>
        <electorate id="">Badcoe</electorate>
        <startTime time="2022-09-28T15:38:31+09:30" />
        <text id="20220928d3d7adfa43e8491990000988">
          <timeStamp time="2022-09-28T15:38:31+09:30" />
          <by role="member" id="5376" referenceid="fcfbe01f0d2f478eb089538bd8ded69b">Ms STINSON (Badcoe) (15:38):</by>  Today, I am going to tell you a tale. This story is called 'Kate and the very special trees'. Our tale begins hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of years ago. Once upon a time, a deep dark forest sprawled across the land from Burnside to Marion. The forest was dense and thick and it was dark—so, so dark. The forest was filled with all sorts of trees: tall trees reaching up to the blue sky and little frail bushes hugging the earth, and all sorts of plants in between.</text>
        <text id="20220928d3d7adfa43e8491990000989">But one tree in particular prevailed; it was the hero of this forest: the grey box eucalypt. Its blackened rough bark and its gnarled branches sprawled across the land. Its limbs stretched up high and its leaves even higher to create a dense canopy. Its jet black bark made up the undergrowth and it shed to form the forest floor.</text>
        <text id="20220928d3d7adfa43e8491990000990">These trees, maybe millions of them, watched the generations come and go as they themselves came and went. They saw native animals, big and small. They saw searing hot days and bushfires. They saw rain and floods. For 50,000 years, the Kaurna people cared for this forest and sheltered in it. It was the site of Dreamtime stories and of ceremony. Then, it was called Kerta Weeta; later, it was called the Black Forest.</text>
        <text id="20220928d3d7adfa43e8491990000991">After many centuries, two particular little trees sprouted right next to each other. It might have been 300 years ago, maybe 500. Those trees were big and strong by the time they witnessed Europeans arrive. For many years, the Europeans did not even venture into the forest, for it was deep and dark and scary, but soon the trees saw bushrangers fleeing into the forest and hiding among their trunks. No doubt, there were many things after that, both good and bad, that those two trees witnessed as the Europeans settled.</text>
        <text id="20220928d3d7adfa43e8491990000992">Bit by bit, the forest dwindled. First, a few houses were built, then orchards and farms and then roads. Then more and more trees were felled as the town grew and grew. It was such a lovely place that everyone wanted to live there. Soon, the trees were quite lonely, with fewer of their friends surviving as long as they did. Little did these trees know when they first sprouted that one day they would be surrounded by a lovely school, a big park and houses and flats, all built right around them. Still, the trees grew, surviving to be the last of their kind, the kind that was once part of the famed Black Forest.</text>
        <page num="1745" />
        <text id="20220928d3d7adfa43e8491990000993">Over time, the neighbouring folk grew worried. They loved the trees. They knew that they were very, very old. For many years, they tried to protect the trees. They tried to get orders to ensure that the trees would never be destroyed but, alas, they had not succeeded. One day, the house that had sat beside them for many decades was put on the market. The owners, who had lovingly watered them and protected them behind a high fence for many years, had passed away and the property, with two remnant trees, was set to be sold.</text>
        <text id="20220928d3d7adfa43e8491990000994">The townspeople were very worried. They feared that the big bad developers could buy the land, chop down the trees, build units and make lots of money. A neighbour to the trees, named Kate Hubmayer, thought someone, anyone, should save the trees, and she was prepared to lead the fight. She talked to all the local folk. They wrote letters, they petitioned the council, but nothing much happened. She told everyone the tale of the trees and what a tragedy it would be for them to be cut down. One day, she told the tale of the trees to her local MP. The member for Badcoe agreed that the trees should be saved. It was not fair for these grey box trees to have endured so much and face such a horrible fate.</text>
        <text id="20220928d3d7adfa43e8491990000995">The MP went to see her friends in the new Labor government, and everyone agreed the trees should not be killed. The planning minister, Nick Champion, decreed that the land should be bought and the property put into the neighbouring school oval. He ruled that the government would then sell the house and make some of that money back, ensuring the townspeople could keep their very special trees. The MP was delighted. She told Kate, who was overjoyed, and the townspeople all rejoiced. Everyone, including the trees, lived happily ever after. The end.</text>
      </talker>
    </subject>
  </proceeding>
</hansard>