The opening day of the 47th parliament had a distinct return-to-school feel, all back slaps and congratulations.

Friendships across the aisle, obvious in this building though often hidden from public view, resumed after months on hiatus.

Anthony Albanese and Peter Dutton shared jokes over the Senate table, unfamiliar territory for two stalwarts of the lower house.

David Pocock and the United Australia Party's Ralph Babet, Senate newcomers on opposite ends of the political spectrum, inspected their new surroundings together.

But for all the bipartisanship, signs of division to come were there.

Parliament's opening has always been procedural: swearing-ins, 19-gun salutes, addresses from the Governor-General.

But it has recently folded in a modern acknowledgement of an ancient history. Addressing the now-traditional Welcome to Country ceremony, the Prime Minister's voice croaked as he urged those present to seize the moment.

"Don't miss the chance, because you're not here for that long," he said.

"None of us will be. When you're sitting on the porch thinking about what you did, you can either have a source of pride, or a source of regret."

The reaffirmation of Labor's commitment to the Uluru Statement from the Heart was met with cheers.

Dutton, whose position on a Voice to Parliament remains unknown, sat impassively, his expression imperceptible under a mask.

Recognition of First Nations Australians continued, each member greeted with an Indigenous smoking ceremony at the front of Parliament.

Jana Stewart, the youngest Indigenous woman to serve in federal parliament, happily clasped a 35-week pregnant belly as she posed for photos at the front of Parliament.

"An important message to all women that you belong in Parliament, and in all places where big decisions are made, no matter what stage of life you're in," she tweeted.

But children have no respect for pomp.

New independent MP Allegra Spender chatted with the passers-by, gently resisting her young child, intently tugging at her jacket.

The MPs soon poured into the chamber, new Labor members sinking into the seats they'll occupy for the next three years.

Coalition MPs familiarised themselves with opposition benches they hadn't seen in nearly a decade, if at all.

Spender and fellow independent Monique Ryan shared a hug at the back of the room. Their swearing-in, alongside the rest of the teal wave, prompted the first burst of applause from the galleries above.

Labor members offered encouragement as they milled back to their seats. A dispute over staffing allocations, slashed by the government to the outrage of the independents, can wait for tomorrow.

The teals join a crossbench now so large it spills into traditional opposition territory, independents Zali Steggall and Dai Le sat next to Darren Chester and Keith Pitt respectively.

Their interactions seemed warm from a distance. How long will that last as Pitt spruiks coal behind the climate-focused Steggall?

A symbolic divide remains, too. Masks were all but absent on the Coalition benches, despite covering the face of each and every Labor member opposite.

But on a day of change, there was one reassuring constant: a confusing intervention from "Father of the House" Bob Katter, elected for the eleventh time.

The maverick Queensland MP endorsed Labor backbencher Milton Dick for speaker in a stream-of-consciousness statement, meandering from the 1800s gold rush, to the averted closing of a Queensland fertiliser plant, to an aside at his "great enemies".

After Dick was dragged to the chair - a tradition of faux reluctance harking back to when unimpressed monarchs had speakers beheaded - his appreciation was hesitant.

"I look forward, I think, to your robust contributions," he told Katter.

And with former speakers Tony Smith and Andrew Wallace looking on, the former from the gallery, Dutton lauded the first Labor member appointed to the role over a century ago.

"Bob, you weren't here in 1910. It was touch and go, but you weren't here," he told a chuckling chamber.

Katter has been around long enough to know how long a chummy atmosphere lasts in this place. Give it until tomorrow.