Ashes of Home: A Personal Plea Against the Lange (Albany)Burn

Written 01/10/2026

Ashes of Home: A Personal Plea Against the Lange Burn

I used to walk the trails in Lange, Albany—between Bandicoot Road and Mercer Road—where the bush whispered stories older than any of us. It wasn’t just a walk. It was a ritual. A communion with the land. Every step was shared with kangaroos grazing in the undergrowth, echidnas rustling through leaf litter, and the haunting call of Carnaby’s black cockatoos overhead.

I was part of a team that counted Western Ringtail Possums in those trees. Twice. We documented their presence, their nests, their fragile hold on survival. These aren’t just animals. They are critically endangered. And now, the very forest that shelters them is marked for fire.

The City of Albany with the approval and necessary permits from The Department of Biodiversity, Conservation and Attractions (DBCA) has scheduled a prescribed burn for this crown land as part of its spring burning program. The final decision to ignite is made on the morning of the burn, based on weather and safety conditions. But by then, it’s always too late to protest. Too late to protect.

Let’s be clear: spring burns occur during peak breeding and nesting season for many native species—numbats, chuditch, quenda, black cockatoos, and yes, possums. There is often no ecological survey beforehand. No count. No acknowledgment of the lives that will be lost. Joeys in pouches. Echidnas curled in leaf litter. Reptiles hidden in hollows. All at risk.

And the burns themselves? They’re not gentle mosaics. They burn hotter and more extensively than intended, with flame heights reaching ten metres. They destroy canopy cover, soil ecosystems, and the very trees that Western Ringtail Possums depend on. These animals are nocturnal, arboreal, and deeply tied to the myrtaceous trees that grow here. They don’t just live in this bush—they survive because of it.

Deliberately killing a critically endangered species is a criminal offence under the Biodiversity Conservation Act 2016. Penalties can include fines up to $500,000 and imprisonment. But when the killing is wrapped in policy, sanctioned by permits, and executed by driptorch—who is held accountable?

Here’s the contradiction: the same organisation that issues permits to torch native bushland is also tasked with protecting the wildlife that lives within it. Same agency, different departments. How does that work? Who holds whom accountable when the left hand signs off on destruction and the right hand mourns the loss?

Western Ringtail Possums were once widespread across the southwest, from Perth to Albany. Their habitat has shrunk by an estimated 90%. Only two strongholds remain in Western Australia—and one of them is here, in Albany. This isn’t just a pocket of bush. It’s a last refuge. And it’s being marked for burning.

Has anyone gone out there at night? Has anyone stood quietly under the canopy and listened to the rustle of life? Because I have. I lived it. I loved it. And I will not stay silent while it’s turned to smoke.

And let’s not forget the human impact. Smoke from these burns can severely affect air quality, triggering respiratory issues for nearby residents. DBCA advises people to close windows and follow medical precautions—but that doesn’t address the root issue: frequent, high-intensity burns that threaten both wildlife and community health.

If you’re concerned about this burn, you can:

• Contact DBCA directly to request ecological assessments or express community concerns.

• Reach out to local conservation groups in Albany who may be monitoring the impact.

• Share your story publicly to raise awareness about the consequences of spring burns.

This isn’t just about possums. It’s about the systems we’ve built, the values we hold, and the legacy we leave. If we can’t protect what’s critically endangered in its last remaining home, what hope do we offer for anything else?

Sheila

Found injured during a possum count walk, Sheila was taken into care and gently restored. She was later released back to the very bush she called home. Now, that sanctuary is under threat—from a fire planned to sweep through her habitat. Sheila’s story is a reminder: every life in the undergrowth matters, and every burn carries more than smoke—it carries consequence.

(Photo Credit Lata Photography)

Update 07/10/2025 : Responses from the City of Albany Regarding the Lange Burn

Following our concerns raised about the proposed controlled burn in Lange, the City of Albany has provided detailed responses outlining their rationale, planning processes, and mitigation strategies. These include assessments using the DFES Bushfire Risk Management System, environmental impact reviews, and consultation with DBCA regarding the presence of Western Ringtail Possums.

The City has confirmed that the Mercer Road cell has long been identified as high-risk, with surrounding streets classified as extreme or major danger zones. Their primary aim, they state, is to protect life and property through fuel reduction—using mechanical, chemical, and fire-based methods.

They’ve assured us that burns are conducted under low-intensity conditions, with downslope ignition and wind-aware planning to allow wildlife safe egress. They’ve also stated that habitat trees will be preserved where possible, and that wildlife carers will be contacted in the event of injury. However, no possums will be relocated prior to the burn, and the City maintains that surrounding bushland offers sufficient refuge.

While these measures may reflect procedural diligence, they do not ease the heartbreak of watching spring-born joeys and nesting possums face the trauma of fire. Many of these animals are invisible to data models and risk matrices. They are not fuel—they are families. Some of the mothers in these trees were once orphans in our arms. Their babies are just learning to climb.

We acknowledge the City’s efforts to respond and consult. But we continue to advocate for greater ecological sensitivity in burn scheduling—especially during spring, when life is at its most vulnerable.

This is not just about Lange. It’s about every patch of bushland that shelters the quiet, the wild, and the unseen. We will keep speaking, keep caring, and keep asking: Can we do better? Can we choose compassion alongside caution?

Thank you to everyone who has reached out, shared stories, and stood with us. Your voices matter. Your love matters.

Update: Our Response to the City of Albany Regarding the Lange Burn

Following the City of Albany’s detailed letters outlining the rationale and planning behind the proposed prescribed burn in Lange, we at Amaris Wildlife Sanctuary have formally responded—with deep respect, but also deep concern.

We thanked the City for their commitment to community safety and for sharing their mitigation strategies. However, we felt compelled to speak on behalf of those who cannot: the critically endangered Western Ringtail Possum (Pseudocheirus occidentalis), whose habitat lies directly within the proposed burn zone.

Our response highlighted the ecological realities that cannot be softened by planning alone. We have seen possums injured, disoriented, and suffering after burns. It happens. It will happen. No matter how carefully orchestrated, fire carries inherent risks to wildlife—especially to nocturnal, arboreal species like the Western Ringtail Possum, who sleep in canopy nests and cannot flee fast enough to escape the heat.

We reminded the City that this species has already lost over 90% of its original range. Albany is one of its last strongholds. Once gone, they are gone. There is no relocation plan. No second chance.

We also raised critical questions:

• Has First Nations consultation occurred? Cultural fire practices offer a slower, cooler, and more ecologically sensitive approach. The Danjoo Koorliny – Walking Together programme should be part of this conversation.

• Is pre-emptive burning necessary in a location so close to emergency response services? With fire trucks and SES teams less than 10 minutes away, alternative mitigation strategies deserve serious consideration.

We urged the City and DBCA to reconsider or delay the burn until proper ecological surveys and cultural consultations have been conducted. The risk to wildlife is real—and irreversible.

As of today, we have not received a response.

At Amaris, we will continue to speak, advocate, and protect. Fire management and conservation must walk together. The Western Ringtail Possum is not just a threatened species—it is a measure of our integrity.

Fire with Purpose, Not Power: A Call for Change in Burning Practices

At Amaris, we walk gently on country. We listen—to the rustle of leaves, the calls of nesting birds, and the wisdom of those who have cared for this land for tens of thousands of years. And what we hear is clear: Noongar fire was never about control. It was about care.

Elders tell us that traditional Noongar fires were lit “small and cool, moving carefully and gently”—never in Djilba or Kambarang, the springtime seasons when life is emerging. These fires had purpose: to renew, to guide, to protect. They were not tools of forest “management.” That mindset is colonial. It’s recent. And it’s dangerous.

There’s a reason so much healthy forest, woodland, and coastal heath remained 240 years ago. Large tracts were never deliberately burnt. They were respected, not reduced to fuel.

Today, we face a battle to postpone springtime burns. But postponement alone is not enough. If the outcome is that this recovering habitat is burned in summer or winter, then the excuse of “listening to Noongar and community voices” becomes a hollow gesture.

So we ask the vital question: Why burn this forest in 2025—or at any time?

We know DBCA has access to advanced surveillance and fire-spotting technology. The next step is simple and urgent: When small fires are spotted early, put them out fast. No delays. No waiting. No backburning across vast areas.

Let’s call, together, for efficient and effective RAPID SUPPRESSION. Let’s extinguish small fires before they become wildfires. Let’s give our forests a chance to recover—not for one season, but for decades.

There is plenty of work to do: Regeneration Rehabilitation Invasive weed control Feral animal management

But incendiary bombing is not care. It is not culture. It is not conservation.

Change takes time. But we have waited long enough.

Let us move forward—listening to Noongar voices, guided by up-to-date science, and grounded in respect for life. Let us protect and conserve our forests, woodlands, and coastal heaths—not with firepower, but with wisdom.