Here I am in Strathfield, once again, contemplating with horror the proposed intensive development, housing almost three million chickens! I cannot bear that this jewel of our district, formerly resplendent in amber, gold and emerald, is about to be reset in ugly, grey metal and filthy odours.
Will my daily route pass bins of dead birds awaiting collection for disposal? The putrefying remains of those whose delicate systems are unable to survive such crowded conditions, even for the short eight weeks they are given: the unbearable stench an ironic substitute for the fresh country scents of summer grasses and drying hay.
Over seventeen years of daily travel, I have seen Strathfield in many guises: A changing tapestry according to the season. At winter sunrise, glittering rainbow-bright with frost, a mundane pipe-leak transformed into a magical crystal fountain; shadowed and silvery in moonlight; literally, in rain, hail and shine. But never have I seen it ugly!
Strathfield is dry now, its great centre-pivots and lush fields nothing but longed-for memories. Strangely, in what amounts to famine, my thoughts turn to flood. I wonder if the developers have taken into account Strathfield’s unique geographical setting which makes it subject to huge cloudbursts, causing severe local flash-flooding? This phenomenon has to be seen to be believed: the sheer volumes of water mind-boggling. And the roar is deafening.
Would effluent pools or dams have the capacity to deal with amounts of this magnitude? Definitely not possible! They would overflow in minutes!
Torrents racing down the hillsides; waterfalls gushing from high gullies, gaining impetus as they spread out, flooding paddocks and roaring into creeks to carry debris into the river, a few short kilometres away. Anyone familiar with Strathfield knows of these sudden, spectacular inundations during the storm season.
I have witnessed this remarkable occurrence several times, driving through water up to the door sills as the road becomes a river(Yes, hills and all!), all the way to the creek that drains the paddock where forty-two of the proposed seventy sheds will be situated. The creek rises with terrifying speed, and then we have to wait … and wait …
Do the developers know this? Do they care? If not, we must do the ‘caring’ for them.
Since this creek dumps the water (and whatever else it gleaned on its journey across the paddocks) into the river above the Manilla water supply and directly into Harry Burrell’s platypus pool, the risk of pollution is not just too great — it is inevitable!
For this reason alone — the incredible volumes of water involved in a matter of minutes — I believe the proposed development should not go ahead. The property is unsuitable for intensive production.
Strathfield is a historic and beautiful prime agricultural property with a unique microclimate: A bright jewel of our district. Please help us keep it in its true setting. Say ‘No!’ to this heart-breaking development.