Michael arrives at the Breakfast Creek underpass in the mornings, beating the heat before it settles over the river.
He tidies the underpass and the park’s fringes, working without a title, badge, or budget. He waters the plants, watches for birds, and moves between patches of shade among the trees.
To some, he is the “Birdman of Newstead”, though he says the title sits uneasily with him. He is there simply to do a job of his own making.
For years, Michael’s world was anchored by a single public bench that overlooked the river. That changed with the arrival of the $67 million Green Bridge two years ago.
While media releases spoke of connectivity and “active transport”, one quiet casualty went unmentioned: Michael’s bench was hauled away for the works.
He once sought paid work with the gardeners, trying to make official the labour he already provided. But as management shifted, he was quietly erased from the picture.
Michael arrived in Australia in the 1970s, landing at the Villawood Immigration Centre with hopes of a steady trade.
He found it in Brisbane’s factories and construction sites, labouring for decades until a workplace injury ended his capacity for physical work.
He recently left a boarding house, citing bed bugs and the unruly characters who made sleep impossible.
He arrives with ham for the butcherbirds, seed for the possums, and mince for the magpies, often spending more than $100 a week on food for the animals.
“If I don’t come, they don’t eat,” he says. “I have been feeding Mackie the magpie for years. She now brings her chicks to see me.
“I like work,” he adds. “It’s no good for the mind nor the body to be just sitting around. I love to tidy up, to make this place look pretty,” his accent still carrying the weight of a life that began in Yugoslavia.
A short distance uphill, Newstead House stands as a monument to the city’s colonial past. But while the House is preserved by history, the park’s present is quietly maintained by Michael.
In the absence of four permanent walls, the soft green canvas of the park has become his domain.
Michael resists the idea of being a curiosity. “I don’t want to make a fuss,” he says. “I just want a little space where I can be myself.”
