Our responses to the COVID-19 pandemic have dramatically changed human activity all over the world. People are working from home, schools are closed in many places, travel is restricted, and in some cases only essential shops and businesses are open.

The wild western end of the island, once a vast mallee woodland peppered with wildflowers and mobs of roaming roos, had been completely erased. An immense dune field covered with sharp blackened sticks now stretched beyond the horizon, to the sea, hollow and quiet.

It's painfully clear nature is buckling under the weight of farming's demands. There's another way – but it involves accepting nature's limits.

After the bushfires, we went looking for endangered corroboree frogs. Normally, they respond to our calls. But at some sites, the ponds were silent.

Amid the dire consequences of COVID-19, some consider the pandemic to the best news the environment has received in a long time.

Australia's space industry is booming despite the impact of coronavirus.

Snow was once a regular feature of the southern Australian climate, but it has become less common because of climate change.

In fiction and popular culture, parasitic characters appear as a metaphor for the threat and spread of disease.

No other event in our lifetimes has brought such sudden, drastic loss to Australia’s biodiversity as the last bushfire season. Governments, researchers and conservationists have committed to the long road to recovery. But in those vast burnt landscapes, where do we start?