Wye River memories. A koala parks in a she-oak by the Great Ocean Road bridge, bold outline amidst spindle foliage. In another April koalas settle in treeforks behind the house, eyeing the eucalyptus smorgasbord. A crash through scrub is falling koala, about to bounce back into shape. A koala howls on Paddy’s Path above the sea, protecting its young, unseen and unheard. Koalas siesta. In August we can think we hear them lumbering from treetop to treetop. A koala has a sort of cantering hop on ground, steady but too slow for a fast-moving bushfire. Paddy’s Path is blacked out.