The Manly Dam Biodiversity Project: The power of small stories in a planet-sized crisis

These were some of the major headlines that caught my attention recently:

‘The government must act now on biodiversity loss and ecosystem collapse’

‘IUCN finds 61% of the world’s bird species are in decline’. 

And closer to home in Australia; 

‘Ten Sydney Harbours' worth of threatened species habitat approved for destruction in 2025, report finds’.

And this isn’t even an unusual month for such news, it’s what we now consider normal. So I decided to write about conservation optimism but found myself asking, ‘How does one hold onto hope amid this drumbeat of loss?’

As I often do when I need inspiration, I went for a walk in the bush.

I feel privileged to live in Sydney, where one is spoilt for choice with trails and reserves, surrounded by no fewer than five national parks. That day, I chose to return to a trail I’d been to several times, a state heritage park close to home - the Manly Warringah War Memorial State Park, known simply as “Manly Dam” to locals.

The first time I visited Manly Dam was in July 2024. Hazard reduction burns had left the trees lifeless, but signs of regrowth were everywhere. The boronias were out in full bloom, splashing pink across the blackened landscape as if determined to cheer it up. Green shoots were abundant and seemed to be rapidly taking over. At the time, I was grateful to have spaces like these so close to the city centre.

At the outset, bushcare was hard work for someone used to sitting at a desk for upwards of 10 hours a day.

It was back-breaking work – requiring me to get down and dirty in the soil, pulling weeds, planting, digging up the earth, removing hundreds of kilos of carelessly discarded rubbish in prime bushland and more. I constantly second guessed myself with my limited knowledge of Australian flora and asked one too many questions to the fellow volunteers, who always took the time to patiently explain names, identifying features and even interesting facts about them. 

Over time, I discovered the rich history behind this place - I met people who had fought for decades to keep Manly Dam wild. I came across stories of marches, protests, community festivals, and hard-won victories. There were people who had chained themselves to bulldozers, raised funds, and campaigned tirelessly to stop development. 

Their determination ensured that this pocket of bushland remained largely intact - a living legacy for future generations. In short, they inspired me immensely. As I got more involved in volunteering, I got involved with the Manly Dam Biodiversity Project. 

The most challenging part of the project was not just to collate the data and offer it back to the community for awareness, research and education, but to get the community engaged. In order to do this, I applied for an Environment Grant from the Northern Beaches Council aimed as engaging a community at large to appreciate the biodiversity in Manly Dam. I called the project “Backyard Biodiversity”. I won the grant and am currently in the process of putting together the program including trying to make it accessible for the differently abled.

The most important lesson through all of this work, was to show up and do just a little bit more each time, to trust the process and watch the magic unfold in time.

To paraphrase Joan Baez, taking action, however small, is the antidote to despair.

For me, when I read the relentless stream of grim environmental news, I take heart in knowing that I am part of a small, hopeful story - a community working quietly to protect a patch of bushland, ensuring it remains wild and thriving for generations to come.

That, to me, is what conservation optimism looks like: not just hoping that someone somewhere is taking action, but to show up with steady acts of care, no matter how small.