Indigenous Seasonal Knowledge in Victoria and Australia
For Indigenous peoples, time has never been confined to the rigid four seasons of spring, summer, autumn, and winter. Instead, it is understood as a living cycle of Country, guided by the behaviour of plants, animals, weather patterns, and the stars. Across Australia, more than 300 Indigenous language groups developed their own seasonal calendars, each unique to their environment and culture. In Victoria, Nations such as the Wurundjeri, Taungurung, Boon Wurrung, Dja Dja Wurrung, Gunditjmara, and Gunaikurnai recognised between five and seven distinct seasons, each tied to ecological signs and ceremonial responsibilities. These calendars were the foundation of survival and continue to guide Indigenous communities today, expressing a deep scientific and spiritual understanding of the land.
Deep history of Indigenous Seasons
Seasonal calendars are part of the oldest continuous knowledge systems on Earth, developed through close observation of Country over millennia (Clarke 2009). Unlike European calendars, which are based on fixed dates, Aboriginal seasonal systems are flexible and responsive, shifting with rainfall, temperature, flowering, fruiting, and animal breeding. This knowledge was encoded in songs, ceremonies, star stories, and totems, ensuring communities knew when to burn, fish, harvest, and travel.
Wadawurrung – Seasons of the Coast and Volcanic Plains
On Wadawurrung Country, which stretches from the surf coast of Torquay to Ballarat and the You Yangs, the people recognise a dynamic system of six loosely defined seasons, each linked to the movement of animals, flowering of plants, and changes in the sea and sky (WTOAC, 2025).
In the early warm season (Late Spring to Early Summer), the land bursts with activity — buniya (brown butterflies) appear, kangaroo grass (themeda) flowers, and the seaweed drifts ashore, signalling fish abundance along the coast. Ceremonies mark renewal and preparation for the hotter months ahead.
The high heat season (Summer) brings long dry days when waterholes shrink and people move towards the coast for cooling breezes and seafood harvests. Murnong (yam daisies) finish flowering, and manna gums shed bark — a sign to begin fishing and collecting shellfish in shallow tidal zones.
As autumn arrives, cooler winds sweep across the plains. This is kooyang time, when short-finned eels migrate through wetlands towards the sea — a vital food source shared across families. Fire was traditionally used to prepare the land for regeneration, timed carefully with these movements.
During the cold time (Winter), heavy rains fall across the basalt plains, and animals such as wombats, wallabies, and koalas become more visible as they forage during daylight. People gathered inland around sheltered forests and creek lines.
The early spring months are known as a time of return and rebirth. Bulbine lilies and wattles bloom, marking the coming of warmth, and birds begin nesting. Ceremonies at this time celebrated renewal of Country and family connections after the cold season.
The Wadawurrung seasonal rhythm reflects an intimate awareness of both inland volcanic plains and coastal ecosystems, demonstrating how communities lived sustainably across dramatically different landscapes — from the salt spray of Bass Strait to the granite peaks of the You Yangs.
These cycles continue to guide Wadawurrung cultural practice, environmental management, and cultural burning programs, where Elders teach that Country itself speaks — through the flowers, the tides, the insects, and the birds — telling people when to act and when to rest (Clark & Harradine, 1990; WTOAC, 2025).
Wurundjeri (Kulin Nations) – Six seasons
The Wurundjeri people of the Kulin Nations recognise six seasons (RBGV 2020):
Poorneet – Tadpole Season (Sept–Oct): orchids flower, tadpoles active.
Buath Gurru – Grass-flowering Season (Nov): kangaroo grass flowers.
Garrawang – Eel Season (Dec–Jan): eels migrate down rivers.
Biderap – Dry Season (Feb–Mar): hot, dry days; grasses ripen.
Iuk – Eel Season (Apr): eels harvested in rivers and wetlands.
Waring – Wombat Season (May–Aug): cold days and nights, wombats emerge to bask in the sun.
Each season guided food gathering, burning practices, and ceremony.
Gunditjmara – Eel and Wetland Cycles
On Gunditjmara Country, kooyang (short-finned eels) defined the seasonal calendar. Wet winters flooded the lava flow wetlands at Budj Bim, allowing eel harvesting with stone channels and traps. Dry summers concentrated water and fish, enabling storage and trade (UNESCO 2019).
Gunaikurnai – Gippsland Seasonal Knowledge
In East Gippsland, the Gunaikurnai recognised seasonal cycles linked to the coast and forests: whale migration in winter, wattle blooming in late winter, and the arrival of migratory birds in spring all marked seasonal changes (Howitt 1904).
Stars and seasons
Astronomy was central to Indigenous seasonal knowledge:
The Emu in the Sky (Tchingal) signalled emu egg-laying time in autumn.
The Pleiades (Larnankurrk) rising marked the start of winter and seasonal burning.
The appearance of Lyra (Neilloan) indicated mallee-fowl nesting season (Stanbridge 1857; Hamacher 2012).
These connections ensured people could read both land and sky to know when to harvest, move, or conduct ceremonies.
Ceremonial and ecological connections
Seasons were not just about resource timing—they were tied to law and spirituality:
Ceremonies accompanied harvests of eels, kangaroos, and emu eggs.
Fire regimes were timed to seasonal indicators, ensuring fresh plant growth and healthy habitats.
Kinship and totems linked families to particular species, embedding responsibility for seasonal care.
Impact of Colonisation
Colonisation disrupted these ancient systems of time and knowledge. European settlers imposed their four-season model through farming, government, and schooling, ignoring the diverse climatic rhythms of the Australian continent. This process severed the deep relationship between Indigenous peoples and their seasonal indicators. Dispossession from Country meant that many communities could no longer observe the plants, animals, and stars that guided their calendars. The suppression of Indigenous languages further eroded seasonal knowledge, as many seasonal terms, names, and ecological markers were embedded in those languages. What survived was often recorded through anthropologists or missionaries rather than passed through lived experience (Clarke, 2009).
Contemporary Revival
Despite this disruption, Indigenous communities across Victoria are reviving and reclaiming seasonal knowledge. Language and cultural programs now restore traditional seasonal names and terms, while cultural fire practitioners use ancestral cues to time their burns in partnership with environmental scientists. Seasonal calendars are being reintroduced through education, tourism, and public awareness — displayed in schools, botanic gardens, and museums, including the Royal Botanic Gardens Victoria and Melbourne Museum. Collaborative research between Traditional Owners and scientists aligns Indigenous seasonal indicators, such as plant flowering and insect activity, with modern ecological data to study climate change and biodiversity resilience. This revival represents not only cultural healing but a merging of ancient science with contemporary sustainability.
The Future of Indigenous Seasonal Knowledge
The future of Indigenous seasonal knowledge lies in its recognition as living science and cultural law. Supporting Elders and language custodians is vital to ensuring authenticity and continuity. Integrating Indigenous calendars into national climate adaptation and land management strategies provides opportunities to respond to environmental change with proven ecological wisdom. Teaching these systems to both Indigenous and non-Indigenous Australians fosters a deeper connection to Country and promotes shared stewardship of the environment.
Indigenous seasonal calendars remind us that time itself is not fixed — it breathes and shifts with the world around us. Living well on this land means learning to see through Indigenous eyes: watching the flowering of the wattle, the flight of the birds, and the stars that rise in the cold months. They teach that balance and renewal depend on listening — not to clocks or calendars, but to Country.
Conclusion
Indigenous seasonal knowledge in Victoria reveals a profound truth: time is not measured in dates, but in relationships. From the Wurundjeri’s six seasons to the Gunditjmara’s eel cycles and the Gunaikurnai’s coastal migrations, each calendar reflects deep ecological observation, adaptation, and spiritual continuity. Though colonisation attempted to silence these systems, they are once again emerging — in classrooms, in cultural fires, and in the skies above. They stand as living reminders that understanding Country begins by observing, respecting, and belonging to its natural rhythm.
References
Clarke, P. A. (2009). Australian Aboriginal Ethnobotany: An Overview. CSIRO Publishing, Melbourne.
Gammage, B. (2011). The Biggest Estate on Earth: How Aborigines Made Australia. Allen & Unwin, Sydney.
Hamacher, D. W. (2012). ‘On Aboriginal Astronomy in Victoria.’ Journal of Astronomical History & Heritage, vol. 15, pp. 121–134.
Howitt, A. W. (1904). The Native Tribes of South-East Australia. Macmillan, London.
Royal Botanic Gardens Victoria (RBGV). (2020). Kulin Nation Six Seasons Calendar. Melbourne.
Stanbridge, W. E. (1857). ‘On the Astronomy and Mythology of the Aborigines of Victoria.’ Proceedings of the Philosophical Institute of Victoria, vol. 2, pp. 137–140.
UNESCO. (2019). Budj Bim Cultural Landscape. World Heritage Centre, Paris.
Written, Researched and Directed by James Vegter 16/09/2025
MLA
Sharing the truth of Indigenous and colonial history through film, education, land and community.
Copyright of MLA – 2025
Magic Lands Alliance acknowledge the Traditional Owners, Custodians, and First Nations communities across Australia and internationally. We honour their enduring connection to the sky, land, waters, language, and culture. We pay our respects to Elders past, present, and emerging, and to all First Peoples communities and language groups. This article draws only on publicly available information; many cultural practices remain the intellectual property of communities.

