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Deep-Sea Trench Expeditions Reveal Rich Ecosystems, Reshaping Views of Life’s Limits Tubeworms are dominant at 6,870 meters (22,500 feet) at the Aleutian Trench, with spots of white microbial mats interspersed. Credit: Institute of Deep-sea Science and Engineering, CAS (IDSSE, CAS) A series of recent deep-ocean expeditions have uncovered astonishing animal communities  thriving at extreme depths—in places long thought too hostile for complex life. These findings , drawn from multiple trench systems in the Pacific Ocean, are expanding scientists’ understanding of how life adapts to crushing pressure, perpetual darkness, and scarce food resources. The most dramatic discoveries come from the Mariana Trench and nearby hadal trenches —the deepest parts of the world’s oceans. Using the Chinese submersible Fendouzhe , researchers made repeated dives, observing colonies of tubeworms, bivalves (clams and other mollusks), crustaceans, sea cucumbers, and other invertebrates thriving at depths approaching 9.5 kilometers (nearly 6 miles) below sea level. These are the deepest known animal communities  documented to date. Unlike most ecosystems that rely on sunlight and photosynthesis, these deep-sea communities derive their energy  through chemosynthesis—a process by which microbes convert chemicals like hydrogen sulfide and methane seeping from the ocean floor into usable energy. Larger animals either feed on these microbes or maintain symbiotic relationships with them. Life’s Adaptability Video and imagery released  alongside the research show dense fields of tubeworms, some nearly a foot long, interspersed with beds of bivalves and clusters of other invertebrates. Scientists also observed free-floating marine worms, sea lilies, and spiky crustaceans—an unexpectedly complex community for such extreme conditions. These ecosystems  were found not only in the Mariana Trench but span at least 1,500 miles across hadal trenches that include the Kuril-Kamchatka and Aleutian systems, hinting that chemosynthesis-based communities may be far more widespread than previously thought. The discoveries are forcing researchers to rethink ocean biology and the so-called “limits” of life. In addition to macrofauna, deeper biological investigations—like the MEER project’s metagenomic surveys —reveal astonishing microbial diversity  at similar depths, with thousands of previously undocumented species exhibiting unique evolutionary adaptations to pressure and nutrient scarcity. These findings are timely as governments and industry explore deep-sea mining for minerals—a practice that scientists warn could irreparably damage fragile ecosystems  that science is only beginning to understand. Studying these deep communities not only enriches knowledge of Earth’s biodiversity but also informs broader questions about life’s resilience—including the possibility of similar ecosystems on icy ocean worlds beyond Earth. Life Adapted to Extremes Researchers say the animals inhabiting these hadal-zone ecosystems survive through a suite of remarkable physiological and biochemical adaptations . At pressures exceeding 1,000 times that at sea level, many organisms possess pressure-tolerant proteins and cell membranes that remain flexible rather than collapsing under compression. Genetic analyses show altered enzyme structures  that continue functioning despite intense pressure and near-freezing temperatures. Some species  exhibit slow metabolic rates, conserving energy in an environment where food is scarce and unpredictable. Microbial studies  suggest that many deep-sea organisms also carry genes associated with DNA repair, helping them withstand constant cellular stress.

Healing Minds, Building Resilience, Restoring a Sense of Belonging By Deborah Harvey* Simply blowing a dandelion seedhead can be a fountain of joy for urban youngsters. People Images/iStock In many cities, childhood unfolds amid concrete, traffic, and persistent dirt and noise, conditions that shape the emotional and physical well-being of young people growing up in dense, underprivileged urban environments . In these settings, access to nature is often a luxury. Urban density limits access to safe, quiet outdoor spaces, particularly in lower-income neighborhoods where green space is unevenly distributed and opportunities for restorative contact with nature  are rare. Yet, even in these difficult conditions, simple pieces of nature, like a tree on the street, a schoolyard with grass, or a nearby park, can provide important moments of relief . Research shows  that these modest encounters with nature can significantly support the mental and emotional well-being of inner-city youth, especially when these spaces are accessible and used regularly. “I think love of nature is just in us,” says  Allan Fein, a coordinator for the Sierra Club’s Inner City Outings program, whose job it is to take kids a big step further from simple urban greenery to experience a taste of actual backcountry. “It just takes getting these kids into the wilderness for them to experience it so they can actually start cultivating that.” Why Nature Matters for Developing Minds Childhood and adolescence are periods of rapid cognitive and emotional development. During this time, environmental conditions, whether they be chaotic or nurturing, can strongly influence mental health outcomes, as documented  across multiple reviews of child development and nature exposure. In dense urban environments, young people are frequently exposed to chronic stressors such as overcrowding, air pollution, and environmental noise, all of which are linked to elevated psychological stress and reduced attentional capacity over time. These daily realities create emotional scars that may not be visible but are deeply felt, leading to heightened stress, anxiety, and a sense of powerlessness. For many young people, it is difficult to focus on anything beyond immediate survival, and their emotional and cognitive development can suffer as a result . Exposure to natural environments provides relief. Evidence suggests  that nature supports emotional regulation, helping to reset the mind from daily stressors and offering a space to reclaim peace in the midst of chaos. Nature offers not just a break from the noise but a restorative moment, where children and teens can feel a sense of calm and emotional safety amid the storm of their daily lives.   Just having a bush or saplings nearby an urban school provides a psychoemotional boost for children, and helps with studying and learning. Zinkevych/iStock Beyond stress reduction, researchers  have increasingly examined how natural environments support cognitive restoration during childhood and adolescence. Attention Restoration Theory  suggests that nature engages the mind in a gentle, unconscious way, allowing directed attention to recover from fatigue. “Natural environments engage attention without effort,” writes environmental psychologist Stephen Kaplan, “allowing depleted directed attention to recover .” For urban youth, whose environments often demand constant vigilance and self-control, even brief contact with natural settings, like walking past trees on the way to school or gazing out of a classroom window, provides relief. These small moments of reconnection with nature support learning, emotional balance, and resilience during key developmental stages. Some research further suggests  that girls may experience particularly strong emotional benefits from exposure to green environments, including greater feelings of calm and psychological safety, although these effects vary by context and should be interpreted cautiously. The Power of Small and Indirect Encounters A common misconception is that the benefits of nature require extended time in wilderness or access to large parks. But evidence  increasingly suggests that even brief or indirect encounters with nature can produce measurable psychological benefits, including improved mood and reduced stress, in highly built environments. “One of the key findings from our Urban Mind project  is that you don’t need a large park to ensure that people can benefit from nature: Even small pockets of green space can lead to measurable improvements in mental well-being that last over time,” notes Professor Andrea Mechelli, a professor of early intervention in mental health at King’s College London. For example, one study found that just a few minutes of exposure to greenery from a window, whether it’s watching the leaves rustle in the breeze or simply seeing trees sway, resulted in lower stress and higher attention among city children. Walking past trees on the way to school or spending short periods in a neighborhood park has been associated with these restorative effects. Even more impactful are those rare moments when urban youth can actually interact with nature in a more meaningful way. Whether it’s sitting on a park bench during lunch, playing in a schoolyard edged by bushes and flowers, or gathering with friends in a local garden, the act of engaging with nature, no matter how insignificant, provides much-needed emotional balance. Experimental research has shown that short exposure to natural scenes can result in modest improvements in emotional well-being among adolescents , including in controlled laboratory settings. Research on virtual nature environments further suggests that even simulated natural settings may offer partial restorative benefits, though real-world contact with nature remains irreplaceable. Social Development, Creativity and Play Natural play spaces have been linked to gains in creativity, cooperation, and social development among urban youth, particularly when environments allow for open-ended exploration rather than fixed, rule-bound play. Studies of children’s behavior in naturalized schoolyards and outdoor settings show that access to varied terrain, vegetation, and loose natural materials, such as fallen branches or piles of leaves, supports imaginative play, collaborative problem-solving, and peer negotiation . When children are allowed to freely explore nature, they are more likely to engage in spontaneous social interactions, practice cooperation, and develop creative solutions to challenges. Playing with natural objects like sand can stimulate creativity, delight, and a deep sense of well-being in children. Sofia Schultz Photography/Pixabay Compared with conventional playgrounds, green play environments are associated with more cooperative interactions and longer periods of sustained social engagement, outcomes researchers attribute  to the flexibility and shared discovery inherent in natural spaces. For inner-city youth, these settings provide rare opportunities to practice social skills in environments that encourage creativity and collaboration rather than competition. In a city where violence, gang pressures, and family breakdown are prevalent, these moments of creativity and social connection are invaluable. In these spaces, youth experience a sense of calm, social belonging, and emotional safety that is often absent from other parts of their daily lives. Whether it’s sitting in the shade of a tree or organizing an impromptu game of hide-and-seek with friends, nature offers a refuge where youth can express themselves and build meaningful social bonds. Evidence from India and the United Kingdom International research highlights the relevance of urban nature across diverse cultural and geographic contexts. A large multicity study  conducted across 25 of India’s most populated cities found that proximity to green and blue spaces such as parks, rivers, and lakes was associated with improved well-being and reduced mental distress among urban youth. Young people living within a few kilometers of such spaces reported better emotional health, particularly when visits were frequent, even when overall exposure time was limited. “People who live near green space are less likely to struggle with mental health issues,” says Mechelli, whose Urban Mind research examines how everyday environments shape emotional well-being . Qualitative research from the United Kingdom provides further insight into how urban youth experience nature. A study published in Health & Place  found that young people in diverse and often deprived urban neighborhoods described natural spaces as emotionally supportive and nonjudgmental, offering relief and a sense of belonging often absent in other social environments. These findings reflect lived experiences within specific urban contexts and illustrate how accessible nature can support emotional resilience and identity formation. Despite documented benefits, many inner-city youths face significant barriers  to engaging with nature. Safety concerns, pollution, vandalism, and poorly maintained green spaces can limit opportunities for outdoor exploration, while cultural perceptions may discourage engagement by framing natural spaces as dirty, dangerous, or not intended for certain communities. These conditions can contribute to ecophobia , a discomfort with or aversion to natural environments, that may develop when early experiences with nature are limited or negative. This pattern is linked to reduced familiarity and lack of positive early exposure, making the need for accessible, safe, and positive experiences with nature all the more critical. Designing Cities That Reconnect Youth with Nature Urban design  plays an important role in shaping access to nature, particularly in dense cities where land is limited. Green schoolyards, tree-lined streets, community gardens, and rooftop greenery can integrate nature into daily routines rather than treating it as a special destination. It’s never too soon in life for children to enjoy interfacing and interacting with nature. Milan Manoj/Unsplash Design approaches that prioritize safety, accessibility, and cultural relevance increase the likelihood that green spaces will be used and valued by local communities. Urban youth need these spaces to be welcoming and accessible, as well as safe and functional. Thoughtfully designed green spaces that are close to home, school, or other common gathering areas can significantly improve access to the restorative benefits of nature for all youth, regardless of socioeconomic background. Nature as an Urban Asset Evidence consistently shows that nature functions as a developmental asset for urban youth, supporting emotional regulation and psychological resilience through everyday contact rather than prolonged exposure or remote landscapes. Research from both India and the United Kingdom demonstrates that small, accessible encounters with green and blue spaces can still provide meaningful psychological support when they are integrated into daily life. For many urban youths, these moments of exposure to nature serve as lifelines, providing a sense of calm and safety amid the chaos of their environments. As cities continue to grow and densify, integrating nature into urban life becomes both a public health consideration and a matter of environmental equity. Thoughtfully designed green spaces not only offer mental and emotional benefits but also promote social connection, physical health, and a sense of pride and belonging for urban youth. Integrating natural spaces into cities is essential for the well-being of young people whose daily environments are shaped by planning decisions, poverty, and limited access to vital community resources. *Deborah Harvey   is a writer and researcher focused on science, technology, sustainability, and global innovation. Her work explores how emerging ideas shape the future of energy, infrastructure, and the environment.

How These Ecosystem Engineers Build Resilience in Their Changing World By Alina Bradford* An Everglades alligator. Rene Ferrer/Pexels As an apex predator that can harm human beings and domestic animals, the American alligator ( Alligator mississippiensis ) is feared in many parts of the nation. However, “the reasons to fear alligators are unfounded, as they are not aggressive beasts, although as large predators they should be respected,” said Frank Mazzotti, professor of wildlife ecology at the University of Florida’s Institute of Food and Agricultural Sciences  Fort Lauderdale Research and Education Center .  These giant reptiles are a vital part of the ecosystem in the states of Texas, Louisiana, Alabama, Mississippi, Georgia, North Carolina, South Carolina, and Florida. In fact, alligators are viewed as “ ecosystem engineers ” or a species that, by nature, physically modifies its surrounding environment. For instance, in the Florida Everglades and other southern wetlands, alligators dig “ alligator holes ” and maintain them over time, reshaping water flow, habitat availability, nutrient availability, and even carbon storage. These ponderous animals even impact their environment just by walking around—the average male alligator weighs more than 500 pounds and can reach 1,000 pounds, according to the National Wildlife Federation .  As armored ecosystem engineers, the 4 million alligators  in the US today play a big role in how plants, animals, and microorganisms survive in the marshland. And research has now found that their actions may even do a bit to help protect the Earth from global warming.  But it’s the strength and ferocity of alligators, when provoked, that are best known. These traits are recalled in the larger-than-life, humorous boast by heavyweight boxing champion Muhammad Ali: “I have wrestled with an alligator, I done tussled with a whale; handcuffed lightning, thrown thunder in jail; only last week, I murdered a rock, injured a stone, hospitalized a brick; I’m so mean I make medicine sick.” Alligator Holes: Micro-refuges in Drought and Heat Alligator holes are made when alligators root out gunk from inside depressions in the limestone  bedrock, common in much of the US Southeast, using their nose and feet. These huge holes, up to 20 feet wide and several feet deep, hold water even when the dry season evaporates much of the wetland marshes. The water in the holes keeps the alligators cool and gives them a place to reproduce. But the holes aren’t important just to the gators. During drought, the holes becomes a literal survival node  for fish, turtles, snakes, insects, and birds that could otherwise die as water levels drop. Fish, amphibians, and aquatic invertebrates live in these pools, while mammals, turtles, and birds like herons, egrets, and ibises use them as watering holes and places to find a meal.  Luckily for the alligators, the gathering of animals into their holes provides them with a concentrated food source. The side effect is a  micro-refuge network  that prevents food webs from collapsing whenever conditions swing hard toward hot, dry conditions. Alligators don’t just dig holes. Once built, alligators keep their ponds from filling in with vegetation by using their snouts, claws, and tails to move sediment and nutrients around. With this maintenance, alligator holes can last for decades.  When an alligator digs and keeps a hole open, it stirs up sediment and redistributes organic material. That movement can make nutrients more available in some areas, changing where plants can successfully grow. The holes also filter water and slow fast-moving water. This naturally cleans the water and prevents erosion. An alligator feeding on a large softshell turtle. Andrea Westmoreland/Creative Commons/Wikipedia More Ecosystem-Engineer Evidence These holes aren’t the only way the alligators change the landscape in helpful ways. They create large mounds out of mud and organic materials for nesting . The nests can create elevated areas up to 3 feet tall  that are used as homes or nests for other animals, such as snakes, turtles, and ground-dwelling birds, when the floods return. Animals even use the “alligator hills” or “gator gardens” as perches to stand on when the water gets too high.  Even the act of these giant reptiles swimming and walking benefits the marshlands. When they walk, they stir up sediment, preventing the water from becoming stagnant and allowing it to be properly oxygenated. It also mixes up nutrients  and distributes them through the water for other species to benefit from. Microorganisms and water plants literally rely on alligators getting some exercise. In return, the plants absorb toxins in the water, making it safer for the animals to drink. Also important, by keeping marsh ecosystems vibrant and healthy, alligators even play a role in mitigating global warming. A 2025 study in Scientific Reports  found that alligator-driven habitat structure and food-web effects can create conditions that favor carbon accumulation and retention. Storing carbon in waterlogged soils instead of releasing it into the air as carbon dioxide, a gas that can trap heat in the atmosphere, can mean reduced global warming.  Why Apex Predators Matter  Alligators are top predators in many freshwater wetland systems, and apex predators tend to stabilize ecosystems  by shaping prey behavior and abundance. That can cascade into better vegetation patterns, lower erosion rates, and improved water quality. For instance, alligators eat raccoons, which then reduces the number of bird eggs being eaten and stabilizes the bird population. Gators also consume rodents, deer, and rabbits, which helps prevent vegetation from being overgrazed. The baldcypress stands, water lilies, and other aquatic plants that the gators save become homes for other marshland animals. An alligator with young of various ages. Catholic 85/Creative Commons/Wikipedia Not only are alligators important for their ecosystems, they are what has been termed a sentinel species . Marshland restoration, especially in the iconic Everglades in South Florida, depends on being able to monitor the health status of each of the huge number of plant and animal species there. So, scientists use an indicator or sentinel species to see how well all of the life forms are working together. In the 1960s and 1970s, alligators were hunted to the brink of extinction . With proper conservation, the US Fish and Wildlife Service found that by 1987, the alligator had recovered enough to no longer require endangered species status. Scientists realized that as the alligators flourished so did the Everglades. Now, long-term alligator monitoring helps track how the ecosystem responds to the Everglades restoration. If the alligator population is doing poorly, chances are that the Everglades are, too. The alligator’s impact on the environment is an important lesson for other conservation efforts. “Ban hunting and wait” isn’t the best way to address the problem. Coordinated regulation, habitat protection, enforceable management, and long-term monitoring help ensure recovery is not a temporary spike. The alligator’s comeback shows how conservation can work when policy and enforcement are allowed to do their job. Human–Alligator Coexistence As wetlands shrink, fragment, or shift under sea-level rise and development pressure, people and alligators end up sharing tighter space. Coexistence is not optional; it is logistics. Part of improving coexistence is better public education and realistic expectations: Alligators are doing what it is their nature to do in habitats. Wetland conservation should be supported so alligators live in functional habitats, not a drainage canal behind someone’s backyard fence.  Indigenous communities in South Florida are bolstering conservation and education efforts related to alligators. The Everglades are deeply tied to Miccosukee and Seminole identities and intergenerational cultural connections, including relationships with plants and animals. Indigenous knowledge  combined with modern monitoring should generate long-term stewardship. In sum, American alligators are constantly “editing” their wetland homes. They are scraping, piling, compressing, and rewetting areas in ways that change where nutrients sit, how oxygen moves through soils and which plants get the upper hand. They are builders, maintainers, and system shapers. Their holes function as drought refuges, their digging and nesting shift nutrients and plant dynamics, and recent research links their presence with higher soil carbon stocks in coastal wetlands. They also serve as practical indicators for Everglades restoration progress, and their recovery story shows what coordinated conservation can accomplish. The lesson to be learned here is that, to achieve climate-resilient wetlands, protecting the water and plants isn’t enough. Also to be protected are the toothy engineers that help to keep the whole thing stitched together. *Alina Bradford   is a safety and security expert who has contributed to CBS, MTV, USA Today, Reader’s Digest , and more. She is currently the editorial lead at SafeWise.com .

Mindful Agricultural Community   Harvests Bounty and Soul By Gordon Cairns * The Happy Farmers of Lower Hamlet celebrate their late summer abundance of aubergine at Plum Village Happy Farm. Image courtesy of Happy Farm, Plum Village “There is no way to harvest; harvest is the way.” Mick McEvoy, manager of the Upper Hamlet Happy Farm in Plum Village in France, is telling The Earth & I  about the connection between mindfulness and farming when he uses this enigmatic expression. It was coined by the Buddhist monk who helped establish Plum Village, Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh. Video  of Thich Nhat Hanh sharing his philosophy of happiness. The process of farming is like a harvest for the soul of the farmer and is just as important as the end goal of produce, McEvoy explains over a Zoom call. His analogy shows how practicing mindfulness and farming dovetail together.   The farm is more than just an organic farm—it’s a living laboratory where agroecology is shaped by mindfulness. Plum Village, situated in the fertile countryside of the Dordogne in southern France, is a unique expression of regenerative agriculture. The farm is more than just an organic farm—it’s a living laboratory where agroecology is shaped by mindfulness, and community building intertwines with ecological stewardship. By aligning mindful living with organic food production, Happy Farm invites volunteers and retreat participants to engage deeply with the land, their community, and their own inner relationship with Earth. “Entering the garden I see the true nature of reality. In its reflection, my heart is at peace.” Crossing the sacred threshold of Plum Village Happy Farm. Image courtesy of Happy Farm, Plum Village Rather than focusing on yields and productivity, Happy Farm positions farming as a pathway to individual and collective well-being, seeing cultivation itself as a form of insight and connection with the living world. In doing so, it asks a provocative question: Can the practices that nourish soil also be the ones that heal human relationships with nature and with one another? “Be aware of your inner garden, of your emotional reality.” McEvoy believes so. Over the course of an hour-long conversation, the softly spoken Irishman explains how practicing mindfulness while working and living on the farm makes Happy Farm transformative for the practitioners. “What makes it different from a farm is this deeply embedded mindfulness practice. We try to be really aware of what we are doing while we are doing it. Be aware of the abundance of nature in the living world around you; check in with the humans around you and be aware of what state your own body is in; be aware of your inner garden, of your emotional reality.”              The garden at Plum Village Happy Farm encourages meditation on the interconnectedness of all things in the universe. Image courtesy of Happy Farm, Plum Village  And the practice extends beyond the self to the physical landscape being cultivated: “Mindfulness is our connection with the living earth, the more-than-human life that is on that land with us; the seed, the soil, and then the human,” McEvoy explains. This humble approach attracts people from all over the world. In fact, McEvoy describes Happy Farm as the “United Nations of Mindfulness.” Harvesting beetroot in the early morning at Plum Village Happy Farm. Image courtesy of Happy Farm, Plum Village This spring, retreatants from six different nationalities will join the farm for a year. McEvoy says: “You can come as you are from whatever your tradition. For many who come to the farm, there is an intuitive knowing that they want to spend time outside on the farm, in the beautiful climate. This is healing in itself without any input from us.” Mindfulness is one aspect making Happy Farm different from a conventional organic farm. Giving ecology the same value as food production is another.                                                                        McEvoy explains: “We intentionally give a lot of space for rewilding, as this relationship with earth is very spiritual for us. After all, the host of life that was there before the farm will be there after our farm is gone. Food production can coexist and be supported by the ecological element, with an awareness of mindfulness.” The group of farms that make up Plum Village limit the amount of heavy machinery involved and have a “no-till policy.”  This means there is neither plowing nor using excavators to turn the soil over. Instead, the soil structure is permitted to heal while benefiting biodiversity. Compost is added to improve the integrity of the soil ecosystem and the number of vegetables grown is maintained, providing a yield that is “quite abundant,” McEvoy says. A variety of heritage tomatoes freshly harvested from Plum Village Happy Farm. Image courtesy of Happy Farm, Plum Village “We call this human-scale farming, not using a lot of machinery and no commercial activity in the food growing,” he explains. “There is no waste, and everything is consumed on the farm.”   “There is no waste, and everything is consumed on the farm.”   Beyond the harvest yield, the farm’s agroecology model has a positive ecological impact. The food is consumed hyper-locally—barely a kilometer from the field to the farm’s kitchen—and of course, there are no additives, pesticides, or herbicides. McEvoy draws a surprising parallel with another organization: “Like the Boy Scouts, we want to leave something in better shape than we found it. We want to enhance the habitats that are on our farms, so we have wild park meadows, pockets of woodland and wetland and add more habitats for all life forms. We connect ecology with an abundant and thriving agriculture.” A pumpkin and squash mandala created during the Harvest Retreat at Plum Village Happy Farm. Image courtesy of Happy Farm, Plum Village As part of the monastic heritage of the farm, the residents live closely, side-by-side, many sharing rooms with those they have just met. This style of living brings its own ecological benefits: Cars, vans and even washing machines are shared—five machines operate for 100 residents—while economies of scale reduce the kitchen costs. McEvoy admits communal living isn’t easy compared to an aspirational lifestyle, but choosing to live together is a form of healing in itself: “Communal life is as important, if not more important, than any individual pursuit of enlightenment. Harmony is more important than enlightenment.”  The closing ceremony of the Sacred Ecology Retreat around the fire at Plum Village Happy Farm. Image courtesy of Happy Farm, Plum Village He continues: “The idea of the intentional community is that in the era of individualism, community life is the balm or antidote. In this epidemic of loneliness where people die from the symptoms of loneliness, there is a solution. Remember, we belong to each other.” With visitors coming from all over the world, it is only natural that the farm’s positive practices have spread: “In the 13 years since I began doing this, a significant number of people have gone on to becoming farmers, making it part of their livelihood. The ripples are far and wide. The most important thing for us is to empower people to know they can practice mindfulness wherever they are in the world, in whatever they are doing.” McEvoy is happy for the Happy Farm blueprint to be adapted and altered: “I would say to people, ‘This is a group business model; take it, just take the idea and fit it to your own social or cultural context.’ People are so hungry to be on the land and to be in a community together. It’s not about Buddhism, it’s about coming back to the soil, growing, cooking, eating together.” Video  about the Happy Farm project of Plum Village. Furthermore, the practice doesn’t even need a farm: “We also say you can do this in your own back garden or with a window box—wherever people who have been on retreat can take it back to.” He adds: “When we grow a little bit of our own food, we switch from having food apathy to empathy for our food, but we also understand the mystery of what happens when we grow, the mystery of the soil, the alchemy of the seed becoming a plant, one grain of corn becoming a towering, beautiful plant full of ears of corn.” There is also a more day-to-day application of the Plum Village way: “It might make you more aware of where you want to spend your money when buying food or even getting involved yourself in a local community agriculture program.” “Plum Village," McEvoy says, "is just one small light in the world, where we need to have positive things happening all over the world.” *Gordon Cairns   is a freelance journalist and teacher of English at the Forest Schools, based in Scotland.

Cyclone Senyar Leaves Hidden Toll for Indonesian Families and Environment By Maila Rahiem* Children in an emergency school after Cyclone Senyar struck Sumatra. Image courtesy of Mahyudin Floodwaters are in the headlines. Mud is in the photographs. Death toll numbers force a nation to pay attention. But for children, the disaster continues long after the rain stops. Solutions include prioritizing school repairs and reopenings after a natural disaster, and adding school curricula and activities on how to strengthen Indonesia’s islands against future calamities. Cyclone Senyar Strikes In late November 2025, relentless downpours and landslides tore through parts of the Indonesian provinces of Aceh, North Sumatra, and West Sumatra. A few days lat er, researchers in Madain Yogyakarta d escribed how Tropical Cyclone Senyar, only the second documented cyclone to form in the Malacca Strait, helped trigger extreme rainfall—more than 300 millimeters (11.8 inches) in a single day in parts of North Sumatra. The deluge turned rivers into moving walls of water and hillsides into deadly avalanches.  As the weeks passed, official death toll numbers rosewith every new validation. By December 13, Indonesia’s disaster agency reported   1,006 deaths and around 654,000 people displaced across the three provinces.  Bridge washed out by Cyclone Senyar’s raging floodwaters. Wikimedia Yet, the most enduring losses are not always counted in the same breath as collapsed bridges and damaged homes. They show up in a 5-year-old child who panics at the sound of heavy rain, in a teenager who stops going to school because the road is gone, in a baby who goes unwashed for days  because there is no clean water, and in families who must decide which need is most urgent when every need is urgent.     When School Disappears When schools are closed or destroyed, children lose the important sense of predictability. Image courtesy of Fitria Astariani In disasters, children lose more than lessons. They lose predictability—one of the most important building blocks of healthy development. Many cannot explain fear and grief in neat sentences; distress emerges as sleeplessness, clinginess, irritability, and difficulty concentrating. In disasters, children lose more than lessons. They lose predictability—one of the most important building blocks of healthy development. There is als o a loss of security , which can be mitigated by a return to a routine. When daily structure reemerges, children can trust again that life can be organized and a stable future is still imaginable. The scale of educational disruption in Sumatra this season is staggering. Indonesia’s Ministry of Primary and Secondary Education reported  in mid-December that 3,274 education units were affected across Aceh, North Sumatra, and West Sumatra—impacting 276,249 students and 25,936 teachers and   educational personnel. At the same time, 403,534 students across 19,427 class groups experienced disrupted learning because facilities were damaged, access roads were cut, families were displaced, and some schools became temporary shelters.  UNICEF  has long emphasized that learning spaces can protect children from harm, connect them to basic services, and provide psychosocial support through stability and structure. This is why “education in emergencies” is not an optional add-on. When classrooms close, children face higher risks of neglect, exploitation, violence, early marriage pressures, and hazardous work—especially when families have lost income and safe housing. Sadly, this pattern is seen worldwide. UNICEF analysis found  43.1   million internal child displacements linked to weather-related disasters between 2016 and 2021, driven mostly by floods and storms. On December 5, a UNICEF leader decried the impact of typhoons across Southeast Asia. “Over the past months and in recent weeks, children across five countries in Southeast Asia—Indonesia, Viet Nam, Thailand, the Philippines, and Malaysia—have faced the devastating effects of typhoons, floods and storms,” Ricardo Pires, UNICEF deputy spokesman, said in a statement. “They are waking up in evacuation shelters. They're drinking unsafe water. They're watching their parents struggle to rebuild homes and livelihoods that have been destroyed not once, but repeatedly. And they're missing school not for days, but for weeks.” Pires then cited UNICEF’s latest data, which showed that since late November, “more than 4.1 million children in the region have had their education disrupted due to devastating climate-related disasters.” Child survivors in temporary shelter after Cyclone Senyar. Image courtesy of Mahyudin Why Sumatra Keeps Getting Hit Extreme rain can overwhelm even healthy ecosystems. But the difference between a difficult storm and a deadly cascade often lies upstream. According to Dr. Hatma Suryatmojo, a hydrological and watershed conservation researcher at Universitas Gadjah Mada (UGM), two factors were in play with Cyclone Senyar: extreme weather and “weakened natural defenses in the upper watershed.”  He explained  that upper-watershed forests should act like a sponge, intercepting rainfall and allowing water to infiltrate soil rather than racing straight into rivers. For instance, canopy interception in intact tropical forests can handle 15% to 35% of rainfall. Then, undisturbed soils can allow up to 55% of rainfall to infiltrate, and 25% to 40% of rain can return to the atmosphere through evapotranspiration. Upper-watershed forests should act like a sponge, intercepting rainfall and allowing water to infiltrate soil rather than racing straight into rivers. But when that “ safety belt ” is damaged or removed, rain becomes runoff, runoff becomes erosion, erosion becomes sediment-choked rivers, and rivers become flash floods.  Sumatra’s vulnerability is not only about geography and monsoon patterns. It is also about land governance, deforestation, and the cumulative weakening of natural defenses. In Aceh, the same UGM report noted  that about 59% of the province remained natural forest in 2020; yet, combined data indicated more than 700,000 hectares ( 1.73 million acres) of forest loss between 1990 and 2020. Conversion to plantations, illegal logging, road expansion, and settlement in flood- and mudslide-prone zones all raise the stakes when the sky opens. Peat forest cleared for future palm oil plantation in Indonesia. Wikimedia Clearance of peatlands is another factor. These massive wetlands can store impressive amounts of water, but drained or degraded peat can intensify both flood and fire risks. Restoration strategies in Indonesia have emphasized rewetting, revegetation, and livelihood revitalization ( the “3Rs” ). In other words, in order to have fewer child disasters, it is necessary to do more environmental repair. Climate change is the force multiplier. The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change has assessed with high confidence  that heavier precipitation will become more frequent and intense as warming increases, raising the risk of rain-driven flooding. For Sumatra, that means today’s “rare” extremes could become tomorrow’s recurring emergencies. Reducing the Harm Natural disasters sit at the intersection of climate, land use, infrastructure, poverty, and public services. The good news is that solutions also sit at that intersection. Start upstream by restoring ecosystems that slow water down. Sumatra needs disaster-risk-based spatial planning  that treats upper watersheds as protection infrastructure, advises Dr. Suryatmojo at UGM. That means halting deforestation in high-risk catchments, enforcing land-use rules, restoring degraded slopes, and protecting remaining critical ecosystems, such as Leuser in Aceh and Batang Toru in North Sumatra. It also means investing  in peatland rewetting and rehabilitation because healthy peat helps regulate water.  Sumatra needs disaster-risk-based spatial planning that treats upper watersheds as protection infrastructure. Treat schools as life-saving services, not “later-stage recovery.” Governments have already taken steps  that matter: emergency classroom tents, school kits, and learning materials have been distributed, alongside efforts to restore sanitation facilities and damaged classrooms. But continuity must be designed, not improvised. Every disaster-prone district should have a ready-to-activate plan for temporary learning spaces, safe routes to school, rapid repairs for water and toilets, and clear referral pathways when children show signs of severe distress. Support teachers so they can support children. In disaster zones, teachers are often the first to recreate “school” in its simplest form—small groups in shelters, lessons on a village terrace, reading circles in a prayer hall.  But teachers also grieve, relocate, and struggle. When they are overloaded with responsibilities without tools and care, the recovery system children rely on is weakened.  Children as Environmental Guardians One powerful shift is possible: Children can be reimagined not as helpless victims but as young partners in building environmental resilience. In practical terms, this can look like: School-based eco-resilience projects : Student teams can map drainage points, monitor rainfall, document river changes, and report blocked culverts—simple citizen science that strengthens early warning at the neighborhood level. Nature-based learning : They can assist with mangrove planting where coasts need buffers, re-green schoolyards to reduce runoff, and engage in watershed stewardship activities that connect science to everyday survival. Preparedness as a routine : Schools can hold child-friendly evacuation drills, “safe school” checklists, and family communication plans to help children prepare for storms. Environmental values as identity : Young people can be taught how to view protection of forests, rivers, and peatlands as part of their pride in their culture. Good stewardship is sustained when it becomes “who we are,” not only “what we do.” When children learn that a forest is not just trees but a living sponge that prevents floods, environmental care stops being abstract. It becomes personal. And when they experience school as a place that keeps functioning even in crisis, education becomes not only a right, but a shield. The Question Sumatra Must Answer Cyclone Senyar may have been the spark, but the landscape was the tinder. The storms of the future will test Sumatra again, especially as more rainfall extremes are being predicted . The real measure of recovery is not only how fast roads reopen or how many buildings are rebuilt. It is whether children regain safe routines, whether schools return as anchors of stability, and whether citizens finally repair the ecosystems that decide whether rain becomes water for life or water that takes life. *Maila Rahiem  is an academic and humanitarian worker who lives in Jakarta, where she studies how children’s well-being, education, and community resilience can be strengthened in a changing climate.

How Hiking in East Asia Cultivates Reverence, Discipline, and Shared Purpose By Jana Perez-Angelo* The royal azalea colony at the peak of Mount Jeamsan in southwestern South Korea is a famous spot visited by numerous hikers every spring when purple azalea flowers bloom. Snow Tiger Man/iStock At 7 a.m., as the sun rises over Seoul, the nearby granite slopes of Bukhansan  are already alive. Elderly hikers in neon visors tap their trekking poles like drumbeats, exhaling clouds of mist into the crisp, pine-scented air. Office workers, sleeves rolled over stiff shirts, clutch cups of coffee while negotiating uneven stones. Someone unwraps kimbap at a wooden rest stop, the seaweed crackling softly. Another fidgets with a headlamp they won’t need until night, yet carries anyway, as though the ritual of preparation is part of the ascent itself. Below, Seoul stretches away in glass and steel, shimmering under the morning sun. Up here, the city feels distant. The hum of traffic is replaced by wind sighing through pine needles, the bark of a dog echoing from a far-off neighborhood, and whispered greetings of “ Annyeonghaseyo ” (“Hello! Are you doing well?”) linking strangers in quiet fellowship. Boots scrape stone, sometimes startling a bird or sending a flock of sparrows into sudden flight. Mist curls around jagged ridges, catching sunlight in golden streaks, making every rock, every tree, seem sentient. From the summit, the city reveals its hidden logic. Seoul doesn’t sprawl, it stacks. Apartment towers cluster in the Han River basin, hemmed in by ridgelines rising like folded paper. Highways twist sharply around rock outcroppings. Neighborhoods stop abruptly where the slope begins, as if the mountains claim authority over the city’s growth. The land commands attention, and the urban fabric bends in quiet obedience. Humans live here not over nature, but alongside it. This is no accident. Almost 70% of South Korea is mountainous . Japan ’s summits, which include sacred Mounts Fuji, Tate, and Haku, account for about 73% of its land. The Philippines, strung along the volcanic Pacific Ring of Fire, is also more than 70% mountainous. In China , around 33% of land is mountainous, but seven of its peaks, primarily located in the Himalayas in Tibet, are higher than 8,000 meters (26,246 feet) above sea level. Buildable land is precious in South Korea, Japan, and the Philippines. Cities crowd in the narrow plains and river valleys. Highways wind between ridges. Apartment blocks spring up wherever the terrain allows. Mountains are neighbors, pressing against apartment windows, edging highways, and framing subway stops. Hiking here is never just recreation, it is ritual, release, discipline, and identity. Each trail tells a story. Each summit offers a lesson. Every step is a chance to observe, reflect, and connect. In many East Asia countries, hiking is an essential pastime, and trails are moral landscapes. While hiking remains a robust form of exercise, it also cultivates reverence, discipline, and shared purpose. Trails teach patience when hiking traffic slows to a crawl on a narrow ridge, humility when wind bites through layers, and communal ethics that ask not just “Did you reach the summit?” but “How did you walk? Who did you help along the way?” The Philippines: Akyat Bundok  and Communal Reverence In the Philippines, hiking, or akyat bundok , is as much about people as peaks. Trails wind through forests thick with orchids and moss, past streams tumbling over limestone, beneath jagged peaks etched into clouds. Boots sink into dark soil, roots tangle underfoot, insects hum lazily as hikers pass. The climb isn’t a race, it is a shared journey, marked by laughter, whispered advice, and passing water or snacks to a struggling companion. Trekkers congregate on the summit of a mountain in Cagayan Valley, the Philippines. Nashrodin Aratuc/Pexels Local guides don’t just lead, they tell stories. They point out ancient rice terraces, recount spirits inhabiting sacred groves, and teach the delicate balance between humans and land. The mountain is both a teacher and mirror, reflecting patience, endurance, and respect for others. And age , injury, and circumstances are no barriers to mountain walking. In a video made several years ago for Nomad Terra Crawlers, Philippine hiker Pia Solon  recalls that, despite knee pain, “This climb reminded me that every step matters. With each breath and each footfall, I felt life again, felt capable, felt connected.” Even those with prosthetic limbs keep climbing. In the same video, Alex Agustin , who has a artificial leg, shares: “I don’t want to stop hiking because I want to inspire more people.” Edwin Gatia , another senior climber, reflected on the differences between generations. “Basically, the main difference is that during our time there was a lot more of the element of adventure … the quest for the unknown and excitement that went with it. Today, people climb because it’s fun and more recreational than adventure. But as long as I can, I’ll keep climbing … and as they say, old climbers never die, they just drink away,” he said on the video. The experience becomes more than encouragement, it is a philosophy of persistence, community, and living fully. Whether climbing mountains, recovering from injury, or simply breathing in the forest air, the mountain trekkers of the Philippines carry it forward with every step. South Korea: Sacred Peaks, National Identity, and Discipline In South Korea, hiking is woven into life’s fabric. Trails explode with color on weekends—neon jackets, pastel visors, scarves fluttering in the wind. Mountains are sacred, home to san-shin,   guardian spirits, and aligned with invisible spiritual currents called pungsu-jiri, believed to shape fortune. Many hikers chase the summit, but a growing movement values slowing down, observing, reflecting, and honoring the path itself. In a video, Kang Dong-Ik of the Korea National Park Service explains : “People go hiking to escape the bustle of the city, but when they get to the peak, there are so many people that instead of relieving stress, they find new stress. The solution is ‘slow peaking’—hike slower, feel the nature, see the valley instead of rushing to the top.” An anonymous South Korean hiker in the video adds a personal perspective: “You have to come up [the mountain] to be healed,” she said. “It feels so good.” Even along crowded trails, philosophy manifests in quiet gestures: a bowed head at a shrine, a hand offered to help a climber over a rock, shared laughter at a steep slope. Pauses matter as much as steps. Hiking near urban life, the air feels different, thicker with expectation, yet lighter with possibility. A Japanese woman luxuriates in the peace and beauty of a mountain forest. West/iStock Japan: Shinrin-Yoku and the Mindful Mountain In Japan, hiking is inseparable from mindfulness and attentiveness to seasonal change. Shinrin-yoku , or “forest bathing,” encourages participants to immerse themselves fully  in forest environments, reducing stress and promoting overall health. Dr. Qing Li , president of the Japanese Society of Forest Medicine, explains  in his book Forest Bathing: How Trees Can Help You Find Health and Happiness : “The best way to deal with stress at work is to go for a forest bath. I go for shinrin-yoku every lunchtime. You don’t need a forest; any small green space will do. Leave your cup of coffee and your phone behind and just walk slowly. You don’t need to exercise, you just need to open your senses to nature. It will improve your mood, reduce tension and anxiety, and help you focus and concentrate for the rest of the day.” Japanese trails are carefully maintained, and hiking often coincides with seasonal rituals, from cherry blossoms in spring to fiery autumn leaves. Walking becomes meditation, a practice of aligning oneself with the rhythms of nature and society. Every step is intentional, every breath attuned to the scent of pine, cedar, and damp earth. Forest medicine complements this mindful practice. Dr. Li, a pioneer of shinrin-yoku, notes that even brief immersion, two hours in a forest or city park, can lower stress hormones, reduce blood pressure, boost immunity, and improve sleep. He emphasizes that “shinrin-yoku lifts depression. It can improve concentration and increase your memory. You can visit city parks to enjoy shinrin-yoku. Even a short visit brings many benefits. It’s about connecting with the forest, feeling life in the trees and the air around you.” In Japan, the forest is felt as more than scenery; it is a teacher, a healer, and a space for reflection. Hiking here is not just exercise; it is a mindful engagement with life itself. China: Taoist and Confucian Influences China’s mountains, while covering a far smaller percentage of the nation’s area than in South Korea, Japan, or the Philippines, are considered to be teachers, temples, and mirrors of the self. Trails meander through mist-heavy forests where pine, cedar, and bamboo scent the air, the soil squishing underfoot after rain. Streams leap over rocks, frogs croak in hidden pools, and birds dart through branches, startling hikers into silence. Roots twist like serpents across paths, and the wind carries faint echoes of distant temple bells. For centuries, Taoist and Confucian traditions have treated mountains as arenas for moral and spiritual cultivation, spaces to refine virtue, harmonize with nature, and strengthen discipline. Retreats, fasting, and meditation are exercises in aligning the body, mind, and spirit. The climb itself is the teacher, testing patience, humility, and awareness at every switchback. A Taoist practitioner recounts  a 2025 summer retreat: “By walking slowly through the forest, chewing young pine needles, and absorbing the qi [vital energy] of the mountains, the body feels lighter and the mind clearer. … It’s not about escape but about reconnecting with the world and oneself.” During a three-day fasting and cultivation retreat, the same practitioner adds: “The rain soaked our clothes but seemed to wash something deeper. Our hearts felt lighter and clearer. All that remained was us together with this mountain, this rain, this wind, and this mist.” A hiker looks over the city of Hong Kong, People's Republic of China. Baona/iStock Sacred peaks in China like Wudang, Tai, and the Five Great Mountains  see the blending of human artistry into natural beauty. Terraced paths wind past temples, pagodas, and incense-filled shrines where bells chime faintly in morning mist. Martial arts students practice forms along slopes, their movements harmonizing with the rhythm of the forest. China Global Television Network (CGTN) host Jiao Yang observes : “The underpinning idea is that all living things exist in harmony. Taoism is about cultivating oneself to rise above bodily needs and base desires, and finding harmony with the world, ultimately achieving spiritual immortality.” Modern hiking balances urban access with sacred preservation. Visitors tread carefully, reminded that the climb is a communion, not a conquest. Every creaking bamboo stalk, slick stone, and swirl of mist gently prompts notice, reflection, careful walking. Trails as Teachers Mountains in East Asia are never just obstacles or scenery; they are teachers. Every stone underfoot, every gust of wind, every shared laugh or helping hand on the trail offers a lesson in patience, courage, and empathy. Trails stretch the body, awaken the heart, and root people in something larger than themselves. They teach how to move through life: to tread thoughtfully, lift others as the trekker climbs, and notice the world with care. When hikers return to the city below, they carry with them the rhythm of the mountains, the slow inhale of forests, the disciplined climb of rocky paths, the reverent hush of sacred peaks, an internal map that guides how they walk through the rest of their lives. Mountains may remain unmoved, indifferent to ambition, yet anyone who listens leaves changed. Every summit is not a destination but a living classroom, reflecting the best of who a person can be when they let the world teach them in its patient, towering way. *Jana Perez-Angelo  is a Denver-based writer and multidisciplinary creative and digital strategist passionate about brand storytelling and purpose-driven content. Her work has been featured in Relevant Magazine , Medium , and Faithful Life .

Deicing Wreaks Havoc on Ecosystems and Infrastructure   By Dhanada K. Mishra* A highway snow plow spreading rock salt on a wintry road. Milan Krasula/iStock Road salt has long been treated as an unavoidable cost of winter safety, but the tax it quietly imposes on ecosystems and infrastructure is far larger than its price per ton suggests. Each winter, millions of tons of sodium chloride are spread across roads, parking lots, and sidewalks in cold-climate regions in places like the US, Canada, and Northern Europe. When broader economic costs, such as environmental and infrastructure damages, are added in, North American estimates alone see that the hidden costs of deicing are in the hundreds of billions of dollars per year. As governments confront aging bridges, growing maintenance backlogs, and rising environmental scrutiny, the question today is no longer whether to use salt, but how to manage it more intelligently.   From Roadways into Rivers When salt is spread on pavement, it does not simply vanish with the melting snow. Water containing dissolved chloride runs off into storm drains, ditches, and culverts, where it flows into streams, rivers, lakes, and wetlands. It also infiltrates  soils to recharge groundwater. Because chloride is highly mobile and does not break down chemically, it tends to accumulate over successive winters—particularly in enclosed or slow-flushing water bodies—while some of it seeps into soil and concrete .   Monitoring in North America and Europe has documented rising chloride concentrations in many urban and suburban lakes, with some sites exceeding thresholds set to protect aquatic life. Research summarized by Uppsala University  shows that when salinity in freshwater increases even moderately, the freshwater chemistry is altered. Organisms adapted to low-salt environments can become stressed, beginning with plankton at the base of food webs. As chloride levels rise, sensitive species decline, community composition shifts, and the resilience of these ecosystems to other stressors—such as atmospheric warming and nutrient pollution—erodes.   “Chronic salinization” can change how lakes stratify, trap dense salty water near the bottom, and reduce oxygen available to fish and bottom‑dwelling organisms. In many northern cities, winter salt has shifted from a seasonal nuisance to a year‑round contaminant. Monitoring  in the Great Lakes Basin and in New England shows that chloride levels in some urban lakes and streams now remain elevated through summer, never fully returning to baseline between winters. This “ chronic salinization ” can change how lakes stratify, trap dense salty water near the bottom, and reduce oxygen available to fish and bottom‑dwelling organisms. The impacts are not confined to water. Along roadsides, sodium can displace calcium and magnesium on soil particles, degrading soil structure , reducing permeability, and increasing compaction. This makes it harder for plants to absorb water and nutrients, contributing to dieback of non‑tolerant species and enabling a narrower suite of salt-tolerant plants to dominate. Urban street trees, already stressed by heat and limited rooting volume, show higher mortality where deicing salt is heavily applied.   Wildlife And Human Behavior Birds and other wildlife are caught in this expanding plume of salinity. Grit used by birds to aid digestion, roadside vegetation, and meltwater puddles can all carry enough salt to cause dehydration and physiological stress when ingested, particularly during harsh winters when other food and water sources are scarce. Reporting from the National Audubon Society  has drawn attention to patterns of increased wildlife mortality linked to heavy road salt use.   Yet, a significant portion of total salt use occurs off the main road network. Data from US state and local studies indicate that roughly 50% of deicing material in some regions is applied to parking lots and private or municipal walkways rather than highways. Property managers and contractors operating under liability concerns and without clear guidance often apply far more salt  than is needed to achieve safe conditions. This overuse creates a powerful leverage point: Better training, standards, and incentives for those managing parking areas and sidewalks could cut salt use substantially without affecting driver safety.   Climate variability is amplifying these trends. Warmer winters in many temperate regions are bringing  more frequent freeze–thaw cycles  and more mixed‑precipitation events: slush, freezing rain, and wet snow that refreeze overnight. Those conditions are particularly prone to heavy salting because roads switch repeatedly between wet and icy. At the same time, extreme cold events still occur, encouraging some operators to “play it safe” by oversalting even when temperatures are too low for sodium chloride to work effectively . The result is a kind of feedback loop: Climate change drives more variable winter conditions, which encourages heavier salt use, which further stresses freshwater ecosystems already coping with warming, nutrient loading, and invasive species. Concrete Corrosion: The Hidden Infrastructure Cost If chloride contamination of lakes and soils is the visible environmental footprint of road salt, corrosion of steel , reinforced concrete , and asphalt is its hidden structural footprint. Deicing salt accelerates multiple deterioration mechanisms in concrete roads, bridges, and parking structures that were designed, in many cases, for service lives of 50 years or more.   Deicing salt accelerates multiple deterioration mechanisms in concrete roads, bridges, and parking structures. The first mechanism is physical. Salt lowers the freezing point of water, which helps melt ice but also increases the number of freeze–thaw cycles that concrete and asphalt experience in a typical winter. Water in the pores freezes, expands, and thaws again, gradually widening microcracks, scaling the surface of concrete and fissuring asphalt. Degraded concrete and rusted, exposed reinforcement bar (rebar) on the Welland River Bridge in Niagara Falls, Ontario, Canada. Achim Hering/Wikipedia The second mechanism is chemical. Chloride ions from dissolved salt migrate into the concrete cover and, over time, reach the embedded steel reinforcement, initiating corrosion . Rust occupies more volume than the original metal, creating internal expansive pressure that cracks and spalls the surrounding concrete.  Visible symptoms follow a rough timeline . Take a snowy, northern-state bridge deck, for instance. Over 15 to 25 years, extensive cracking, delamination, and exposed reinforcement may compromise the deck’s structural capacity  if maintenance has been deferred.   Something similar happens with asphalt. Chloride ions combine with the binding material that “glues” together the asphalt and gravel, causing them to disaggregate over time. In Nordic countries, analyses of “ maintenance debt ” have shown multibillion‑euro backlogs for roads and bridges, with winter maintenance practices, including salt use, recognized as an important contributing factor.   A landmark assessment  of corrosion in US infrastructure estimated total annual costs on the order of hundreds of billions of dollars, with highway bridges alone accounting for more than $8 billion per year in direct corrosion-related expenses. Even so, the economic drain from corrosion is, in many ways, another facet of the same problem that afflicts freshwater ecosystems: Societies are treating salt as though it were degradable, when in reality it lingers in both water and concrete for decades. Why Cheap Salt Is Not Really Cheap Rock salt is inexpensive to purchase and easy to spread, which has helped cement its role as the default winter maintenance tool. But when infrastructure and environmental damage are included, the picture changes. Regional studies , including work from Canadian provinces , suggest that each ton of salt can impose more than $1,000 in downstream costs through accelerated infrastructure deterioration and water treatment needs. In other words, the apparent savings from using more salt today can be wiped out many times over by the repair bills arriving years later.   A video from the Canadian Broadcasting Corp. titled “Is it time to ditch the road salt?” Alternative deicers  complicate the calculus further. Calcium chloride is more effective at lower temperatures and may allow reduced application rates, but it is still a chloride source and carries its own corrosion risks, though sometimes lower than sodium chloride under comparable conditions. Calcium magnesium acetate, by contrast, is essentially noncorrosive and biodegradable, but can cost several times as much per ton as rock salt, limiting its use to sensitive structures and sites. The apparent savings from using more salt today can be wiped out many times over by the repair bills arriving years later. Organic additives, such as beet juice blends, have shown promise in reducing total salt requirements while maintaining performance; yet, this approach remains in comparatively early stages of deployment.  Over a 20‑year life cycle, higher upfront spending on less corrosive agents or on technologies like brine pretreatment can be offset by longer concrete life and lower repair needs. (Pretreating with brine, which is salt already dissolved in water, prevents snow and ice from bonding with the road surface and reduces the need for additional salt.) Policy Levers: Using Price and Practice to Cut Salt Use Recognizing this misalignment, some jurisdictions have begun exploring policy instruments that link deicing choices more closely to their full costs. One such instrument is a “salt tax” or environmental charge on deicing chemicals, designed to build infrastructure and ecological damages into the price signal. Economic analyses suggest that modest price increases can reduce consumption by encouraging more efficient application, investment in brine systems, and selective use of alternatives on the most vulnerable structures.   Nordic countries  provide instructive examples of how pricing tools can complement, but not replace, robust practice standards. Norway and Sweden have focused primarily on regulatory strategies: They distinguish “bare road” priority corridors, where salt is essential, from lower‑traffic routes, where mechanical plowing and abrasives (such as sand) are favored. They are also setting new guidance on application rates, which often permit roughly half or less of historical norms on many roads. Evaluations of these programs indicate that substantial reductions in total salt use—on the order of 30%–40% in some cases—can be achieved without increasing accident rates on main roads. Denmark’s experiments with economic incentives and brine pretreatment  highlight the importance of setting the charge high enough to drive change and of aligning contractor incentives with public goals. Toward Smarter Winter Maintenance The challenge for policymakers is to balance legitimate expectations of winter mobility and safety with the equally real need to protect ecosystems and preserve critical infrastructure. Evidence from both North America and northern Europe suggests that this balance is achievable through a combination of measures, such as targeted use of salt on high‑priority corridors, greater use of brine instead of rock salt, improved mechanical snow removal, better education and contracting practices in parking areas and sidewalks, selective deployment of less corrosive alternatives, and pricing or tax instruments that reflect long‑term costs.   Framed this way, road salt is not simply an infrastructure‑finance and governance issue but a freshwater-conservation issue. As maintenance debts grow and climate variability adds stress to the  natural and built environment, continuing to treat salt as a cheap, degradable commodity is increasingly untenable. By making more deliberate choices now—about where salt is truly needed, how much is applied, and which products are favored—societies can maintain winter safety while slowing the silent degradation of both ecosystems and the built environment people depend on.   *Dhanada K Mishra is a PhD in Civil Engineering from the University of Michigan and is currently working as the managing director of a Hong Kong-based AI startup for building technology for the sustainability of built infrastructure ( www.raspect.ai ). He writes on environmental issues, sustainability, the climate crisis, and built infrastructure.

Landmark Book Reached People through Everyone’s Natural Love of Birdsong By Rick Laezman* Rachel Carson was inspired to write Silent Spring after a friend in Massachusetts wrote to her about unusual die-offs of birds following DDT spraying. Ornitolog82/iStock Rachel Carson’s 1962 blockbuster book Silent Spring  broke the logjam of environmental complacency in America and around the world over the freewheeling use of pesticides. The marine biologist, formerly with the US Fish and Wildlife Service (FWS), cut through the chemical firms’ carelessness and the public’s obliviousness with a uniquely scientific yet deep-hearted and lyrical style that swayed both the minds and emotions of people. It stirred an emotional and a political earthquake and challenged what had become a cavalier attitude toward nature among the business and political classes. It also led to a paradigm shift in the public mindset and directly helped set the stage for the modern environmental movement. Carson’s pro-nature advocacy and call for human care for the environment is still reverberating six decades later. The author, who died in 1964, sought to promote a philosophy about humankind’s relationship with the natural environment. "Man’s attitude toward nature is today critically important simply because we have now acquired a fateful power to alter and destroy nature," she remarked in an interview  with Eric Sevareid on CBS News in April 1963. "But man is a part of nature, and his war against nature is inevitably a war against himself. … We are challenged as mankind has never been challenged before to prove our maturity and our mastery, not of nature, but of ourselves." The Writing of Silent Spring Carson started publishing short stories in magazines when she was only 11 years old. In so doing, she honed her talent for writing creatively, deftly finessing poetic language. Later, upon training as a marine biologist and working for the FWS, she became conversant with scientific methods and made keen observations about the natural world. By skillfully combining her two skill sets, she incorporated this unique approach into three nonfiction books that she published prior to Silent Spring . Writing poetically about her subject matter, [Carson] spoke to human emotion while making empirical, science-based arguments. In those earlier books, Carson described the intricacies and beauty of the sea and emphasized humanity’s connection to nature. Writing poetically about her subject matter, she spoke to human emotion while making empirical, science-based arguments. Her hybrid writing style contributed to the popularity of her books, and it worked especially well in her fourth and most radical book, Silent Spring . This book gripped the public mind to pay attention to a serious environmental issue: the adverse effects of indiscriminate application of synthetic chemical pesticides, particularly DDT, the most widely used at the time. A Ford tri-motor airplane spraying DDT in 1955 in the Powder River area of Oregon as part of the Western spruce budworm control project. Some 30 million acres  of US forest was sprayed with DDT before 1972. R. B. Pope/US Forest Service/Wikipedia ‘Miracle’ DDT When Carson published her book, DDT had long been embraced as a kind of miracle chemical. The acronym is short for dichloro-diphenyl-trichloroethane, a chemical compound  first synthesized in the late 1800s by an Austrian doctoral candidate, Othmar Zeidler. Initially, the compound garnered little attention. But in 1938, its incredible insecticidal potency was discovered by Swiss chemist Paul Müller and later commercialized. During World War II, DDT was widely used with great effect, especially by the United States, to eradicate insects like mosquitoes and lice, which transmitted such diseases as malaria and typhus in locations where troops were stationed. The demand for DDT increased after the war. Application of the pesticide expanded to farms and households across the country, and little thought was given to the effects it might be having on other animals, plants, and microorganisms besides the targeted pest insects. DDT was considered such a beneficial compound that it earned Müller the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine  in 1948. While its popularity expanded globally, the negative effects of DDT  were observed from the very early years of its application. Testing in 1944 by the National Institutes of Health and at the Food and Drug Administration found that DDT could cause tremors, liver damage, and death in lab animals. Some states banned, restricted, or issued warnings against it. Some journalists began reporting on its deleterious effects almost as soon as it became a popular item with the American public. Nature writer and future Pulitzer Prize winner Edwin Way Teale  sounded the alarm on DDT in 1945. His essay , “DDT: The Insect-Killer that can be Either Boon or Menace,” was published  in the science journal Nature . In it, he reminded readers that insects have a role in the balance of nature, and if that balance were upset, the consequences could be catastrophic. Rachel Carson in her official photo as an employee of the US Fish and Wildlife Service. US Fish and Wildlife Service/Wikipedia Teale  was a colleague and mentor to Rachel Carson. After publishing three successful books, Carson had retired from the FWS and devoted herself to writing full time. Like Teale, Carson had been concerned about the negative effects of DDT from the early years of its use. In 1945, she proposed an article to The Reader’s Digest  about DDT’s deleterious effects on nature. Her proposal, however, was rejected. A decade later, Carson’s niece died. She adopted the niece’s son and moved to Silver Spring, Maryland, to care for her own aging mother. While living there, she received a letter that set her on the path to writing Silent Spring . In 1958, a friend named Olga Huckins, who lived in Massachusetts, wrote to Carson about large die-offs of birds on Cape Cod after DDT spraying. The letter inspired the author to revisit the issue. Initially, Carson wanted another friend, children’s book author and The New Yorker  contributing editor E. B. White, to write an article about it . Instead, he encouraged Carson to tackle the subject herself. The Blockbuster In 1962, The New Yorker  published a series of Carson’s articles on the subject. The articles were published in book form later that year, and Silent Spring became an instant bestseller. It sold more than 100,000 copies  in the first three months, and more than a million copies in two years—and this when the US population was only about half what it is today. DDT was identified as a culprit in the decline of the bald eagle population, as it thinned the raptors’ eggshells. Murray Foubister/Wikipedia Carson opens the book with a pastoral description of a fictitious American town, one that lay "in the midst of a checkerboard of prosperous farms, with fields of grain and hillsides of orchards where, in spring, white clouds of bloom drifted above the green fields.” However, this bucolic scene quickly succumbs to an ominous force—“Some evil spell had settled on the community: mysterious maladies swept the flocks of chickens; the cattle sickened and died. Everywhere was a shadow of death.” The opening juxtaposition was powerful. Linda Lear, author of Rachel Carson: Witness for Nature ,  notes that  Carson’s evocative writing style helped change prevailing ideas about the use of synthetic pesticides like DDT. “Readers, including housewives who used a lot of these chemicals, were shocked with what they learned.” [The chemical companies] called her a hysterical woman, a communist, a radical, a spinster, and “a fanatic defender of the cult of the balance of nature.” The questioning of DDT and the harm it caused elicited a backlash. Chemical companies fought back . They tried to prevent the book from being published. They questioned Carson’s scientific integrity and attacked her personally. They called her a hysterical woman, a communist, a radical, a spinster, and “a fanatic defender of the cult of the balance of nature.” Robert H. White-Stevens,  a chemist and spokesperson for the chemicals industry, famously remarked , “If man were to follow the teachings of Miss Carson, we would return to the Dark Ages, and the insects and diseases and vermin would once again inherit the earth.” DDT had a detrimental effect on honeybees and butterflies. Pixabay Carson was undaunted. She had prepared meticulously for the book, and her expertise as a scientist ensured its credibility. She had compiled copious notes and references to other experts who had read and approved of her manuscript. She was ready to defend her work, and she would soon have several opportunities. A Nation Responds The impact of  Silent Spring reached the highest levels of government. After reading The New Yorker  excerpts in August 1962, President John F. Kennedy  asked the Life Sciences Panel of the President’s Science Advisory Committee (PSAC) to examine the claims made in the book. The PSAC published its report  in May 1963. The report concurred with the findings of the book and said,  “ Until the publication of Silent Spring  by Rachel Carson, people were generally unaware of the toxicity of pesticides.” It concluded: “The government should present this information to the public in a way that will make it aware of the dangers while recognizing the value of pesticides.” Much of the impact of Silent Spring can be measured by the public response that followed. On April 3, 1963, a CBS News report (noted above) explored both sides of the debate. The networks estimated that between 10 million and 15 million viewers had tuned in to the broadcast. Federal lawmakers soon stepped into the conversation. Carson testified  before the US Senate Committee on Government Operations on June 4, 1963. Two days later, she testified before the US Senate Commerce Committee in a hearing to consider legislation to regulate the spraying of pesticides. More definitive action soon followed. In 1963, the US Congress passed the Clean Air Act , and in 1972, it passed the Clean Water Act . Yet, perhaps the most impactful action came when President Richard Nixon sent to Congress a plan to consolidate responsibilities for environmental issues into a single federal agency. With an emphasis on addressing pollution and maintaining the health of the environment, the agency’s responsibilities included research, monitoring, establishing quantitative baselines for measurement, setting consistent air and water quality standards for industries, and supporting states in their own efforts. The House and Senate approved the president’s proposal, and in December 1970, the Environmental Protection Agency  was created. Environmentalism Launched In the preceding decades, society had celebrated the triumphs of science and technology over nature. DDT, in particular, had been hailed as a miraculous chemical that had the potential to rid the world of noxious pests and the diseases they carried, had saved American troops, and had become a household item used by millions. Carson’s book questioned this mindset. It did not deny the benefits of technology or chemical pesticides, but it encouraged society to reconsider widespread use without more information about their effects. It encouraged people to see themselves as participants within nature and responsible stewards of the environment rather than dwelling apart from it and lording over it. This paradigm shift had profound effects. It helped address one of the most pressing ecological issues of the time, and it reframed the way society viewed itself within the natural world. That philosophical change fueled many of the events within the history of environmentalism that followed, such as the first Earth Day in 1970, and it continues to guide environmental policies through the present day . *Rick Laezman  is a freelance writer in Los Angeles, California, US. He has a passion for energy efficiency and innovation. He has covered renewable power and other related subjects for over 10 years.

Demand Is Strong for Rooftop Photovoltaic Panels By David Dodge* About 7% of US homes now have rooftop solar systems. Such systems can be seen in the right foreground and sprinkled elsewhere around this neighborhood. Kindel Media/Pexels In 2025, more than 1 million residential solar systems were installed in the United States, which means the country is now looking at an estimated 5.7 million solar systems. In 2022, these systems were already generating a whopping 61,281 GWh  of electricity. Rooftop solar is quietly transforming how people get electricity, and SolarTech, a solar company based in El Cajon, California, was curious to learn why people were switching to solar. To find out, they conducted a survey  of 2,000 American homeowners. “The results are actually pretty eye-opening,” says Nick Hofer, SolarTech’s chief strategy officer. “Seventy percent of the homeowners we surveyed either already have solar installed on their homes or are actively looking to install solar.” Moreover, out of that 70%, 18% already have solar—which indicates the likelihood of a strong surge for rooftop solar in coming years. In the early days (not so long ago), there was more of an environmental motive behind the early adopters’ passion for solar, with energy costs and independence from the grid being secondary concerns. “That's flipped,” says Hofer. “Now people are looking for energy independence.” Energy independence has two sides. One is that fully 51% of those surveyed said they are interested in solar power because of increasing utility costs. Another 21% of respondents said they are seeking freedom from possible grid fluctuations. Out of about 81 million US homes, only 5.7 million have solar panels on them, which suggests the market is still quite young. Photo courtesy of SolarTech Defying Utility Dependence If there is one consistent theme over time, it’s North Americans’ and Europeans’ high levels of disdain for utility companies and ever-growing utility bills. This is fueling the very practical desire to cut energy expenses. According to the SolarTech report, “Two-thirds of homeowners (66%) agree that owning solar feels like ‘taking control back’ from utilities, reflecting how energy autonomy has become part of the modern homeowner mindset.” But environmental issues as a motivator have not disappeared; the survey found that 15% say the reason they want to go solar is to help the environment. Fully 78% also expressed concerns about grid reliability. The concerns are not unfounded. Between 2017 and 2019, California experienced more than 50,000 blackouts, impacting “the equivalent of 51 million customers,” according to a report by Bloom Energy Corp . and PowerOutage.us . While California has worked in recent years to eliminate blackouts, the California Energy Commission  predicted in 2024 that, when needed, utilities will implement “rolling blackouts.” SolarTech's survey of 2,000 US homeowners’ top reasons for going solar. Courtesy of SolarTech Myths Are Slipping Away Education is making inroads in the adoption of solar, with 49% of the SolarTech survey respondents saying they “are confident or very confident that solar will fully pay for itself over time.” Still, 47% say clearer information about savings would motivate them to go solar. Hofer says that “61% of the people we surveyed are expecting 10% electrical savings on a month.” Fifty-five percent of respondents believe solar increases their property value at least 6%, while 21% estimate an increase of 10% in value. Most of this is not shocking news to solar companies like SolarTech, but it does provide empirical data to back up their intuitions about where consumers are at when it comes to solar. Thus, Hofer doesn’t expect big changes to his company’s marketing strategies as a result of the data. Solar begets solar. Heather MacKenzie (her home is the one in the middle row, sixth from the top) was a first adopter of rooftop solar in her Edmonton, Alberta, neighborhood. Today, many neighbors have followed her lead. Photo courtesy of David Dodge, GreenEnergyFutures.ca Solar Neighbors as Influencers Hofer also confirms that neighbors can be influential in solar decisions. “I'm looking out my window right now [in San Diego, California], and I look over a valley of roofs, and I can see probably two homes that have solar,” he says. “Now, if I were to look at my [own residential] street, I would say there are probably two homes that don't  have solar.” This is apparent in Canada, too. In the Edmonton, Alberta, neighborhood of Blatchford , the largest planned carbon-neutral community in North America, Heather MacKenzie said, “We came in here as the first with solar, but that didn't last long.” The next thing she knew, three of the attached homes in her four-home building had solar, and now there is solar on many other surrounding buildings. There's no more credible salesperson than a neighbor with their utility bill in hand, Hofer says. “Word of mouth is incredibly strong.” Favorable Financing Is Key SolarTech’s survey identifies one more very important factor as well: upfront cost. In the survey, 47% of respondents say that better financing is the key to expanding small solar. And many experts agree that while solar makes sense and people like solar, there are still significant upfront costs. Many people need to upgrade their roofs to prepare them to handle the hardware, in addition to underwriting the solar panel installations. Property assessed clean energy (PACE) financing programs , which provide up to 100% of the funding required in long-term loans and which are levied against the property and not the owner, have increased the uptake of solar. Studies have found that good PACE programs can modestly increase rooftop solar adoption, though one study in California found a 108% boost . Since the savings start in Year 1, this overcomes one of the biggest barriers to adopting solar. The beauty of such financing programs costs the public nothing; the finance companies are simply helping people and businesses make investments with their own money that make economic sense. In 2024, 54% of people in the US who installed solar on their homes secured a loan or paid cash, while 46% entered into a lease or Power Purchase Agreement (PPA) arrangement. The federal solar tax credit for homeowners was shut down in 2025, leaving only the Clean Electricity Tax Credit of 30% available to businesses, but just for two more years. This means only so-called third-party–owned systems (leased or PPA systems) qualify. But the leasing companies are also now facing increasing restrictions on foreign-sourced materials, which could erase any benefits of the tax credit. Martyna Kowalczyk of the Solartime YouTube Channel advises caution when entering into lease or PPA agreements in 2026. She has produced a video , “STOP Before You Lease Solar in 2026! Home Solar Lease 2026 Explained,” to examine the issue. Solar can still save a homeowner money, but research is always needed before signing on the dotted line. Where Is Rooftop Solar Growing? In some jurisdictions, solar power, combined with high levels of energy efficiency, is producing net-zero homes that can cost nothing in terms of utilities . Small-scale solar is growing all over the US, but California is the runaway leader , with 21,668 GW of small-scale solar installed. Arizona, New York, Massachusetts, Texas, and Florida are also strongholds of solar usage. Residential solar installations grew at 30% per year from 2020 to 2023 ,  when 1.18 million systems were installed. Installations then sagged to 800,000 in 2024, due to changing policies and high interest rates, and then began rebounding in 2025, topping out at 1 million installations. Projections see 18% growth in 2026. Perhaps surprisingly, residential solar systems may be small at 5–10 or more kilowatts, but together they make up almost 15% of total US solar capacity. At utility scale, solar met an astonishing 61% of electricity demand growth  in 2025, making it the number one new source of electricity by far. Residential solar grew 30% each year between 2020 to 2023, slowed down in 2024, and is already rebounding. Graphic courtesy of David Dodge Battery storage is also growing, according to Energy Storage News , which means more homes are able to use their solar-generated energy into the night. Batteries are believed to be the next big step in the energy transition from fossil fuels to renewables. Growth in solar power is spreading around the world. China leads rooftop solar , having installed 120 gigawatts in 2024, and Australia leads the world in per capita rooftop solar installation. Germany has more than 5 million rooftop solar systems, while the Netherlands leads in per capita rooftop solar in Europe. Rooftop solar is also growing fast in emerging markets in Pakistan, Brazil, sub-Saharan Africa, Southeast Asia, and Eastern Europe. In India, deployment is rapid, and the nation has a goal of 10 million rooftops . All told, while solar has high upfront costs if a homeowner is buying solar panels, there are virtually no fuel costs over the life of the system. This—plus energy security—make solar very attractive for individuals, businesses, and countries now deeply concerned over the changing world order and uncertain energy prices. *David Dodge  is an environmental journalist, photojournalist, and the host and producer of GreenEnergyFutures.ca , a series of micro-documentaries on clean energy, transportation, and buildings. He’s worked for newspapers and published magazines and produced more than 400 award-winning EcoFile radio programs on sustainability for CKUA Radio.

Mexico’s Plantations Suck Up Groundwater, Invite Deforestation and Pest Invasions    By Becky Hoag* Large avocado plantations in Peru . iStock  Avocados have become a staple in many US and global households over the past 30 years. It’s on toast, in sushi, and warming up in a pan as oil. The Mexican fruit has seen a rapid increase in demand, mainly from North American countries, because it’s considered a delicious and nutrient-dense food source.  But avocados have also become the center of a debate over how they are grown. As a commercially successful product, there are struggles over who will control the land and produce. Also, there are criticisms about the impact avocados have on local ecosystems. “Avocados are a really good illustration of really rapid expansion of an agricultural system based on a global market that had a boom—still arguably in the boom period—where demand skyrocketed really quickly, so supply skyrocketed really quickly,” Dr. Audrey Denvir explained to The Earth & I .  “It’s very evident what that has done to the landscapes where it is produced,” said Denvir, an environmental researcher who did her PhD work on the environmental impacts of the growing avocado industry in Mexico.  The ‘Green Gold’ Boom The “green gold”   avocado boom mainly started in the US in 1997 after President Clinton removed a ban   on imported avocados from Mexico that had been long been protecting US avocado growers from international competition. This change in US policy, paired with a huge advertising push   from Mexico, has resulted in Mexican avocados accounting for around 90% of the US market, which has increased threefold in the last two decades. In fact, the industry grew by 4% just this year compared with last year and is on track to exceed 3 billion pounds in volume   for the US market alone. Avocado served on tacos . Pexels  Avocado enthusiasm is now spreading around the globe, and plantations are popping up all over South America and in parts of Europe, the Middle East, and Africa to increase regional supply. But what does this dramatic industry expansion mean for the local ecosystems? Concerns include excessive water use, loss of acres of local trees, and the use of  “monocropping,” a system that invites pests and soil degradation. The Downside of Monoculture The global industrialized agriculture industry—including the avocado industry—relies heavily on monoculture, which means just one plant type is grown on a plot of land. Monocropping is widely used for many crops because of its efficiencies , high crop yield and ease of management .  However, recent research   has shown how monocropping can be detrimental to local biodiversity, soil health, and water usage. It is also known to increase dependency   on fossil fuel-based pesticides and fertilizers. That’s because soil organisms and the diversity of plants that would normally replenish soil nutrients or counteract pests and disease have been all but destroyed. The chemicals then seep into natural ecosystems nearby, harming local biodiversity. For these reasons, crop rotation, intercropping and rebuilding healthy soil are now recommended to maintain water and nutrient balance; avoid disease, insect, pest, and weed control; and boost crop production, says a 2023 study in the Journal of Plant Sciences . However, domestic and international government policies can complicate agriculture issues, including monocropping vs. polyculture.  Recent research  has shown monocropping to be detrimental to local biodiversity, soil health, and water usage. Applying pesticides on an avocado plantation .  iStock  Avocado-Based Deforestation The growing demand for avocados has caused an increase in illegal deforestation   in producing states, particularly in the avocado hub, Mexico .   “I think what’s surprising and compelling about the avocado story is that, while it’s not at the magnitude of beef, it happened so fast,” said Denvir, who now investigates US land use impacts of biofuels and sustainable aviation fuels at the World Resources Institute. Her PhD research found that the spike in avocado demand has led to many environmental issues , primarily deforestation, increased water consumption, and loss of biodiversity. “It’s kind of a microcosm of the larger issue of the expansion of agriculture globally and it shows how, in this one place, it can really take over the landscape. It’s so visible and, for the people who live in [Mexican states] Michoacán and Jalisco, it’s totally taken over what they see every day and the region,” she said. Forests are vital ecosystems for local biodiversity, natural carbon capture, and water quantity. Michoacán, Mexico’s main avocado-producing state, is also known for its Monarch Butterfly Biosphere Reserve, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, but even that is at risk   of illegal deforestation to make way for avocado farms. “Land use is an underlying driver of all these other [negative environmental] impacts,” Denvir explained. For years, Mexico has worked to try to crack down on illegal deforestation associated with the avocado industry. It “passed a law in 2003 that   prohibited clearing forests for commercial agriculture ,”   Viridiana Hernández Fernández , assistant professor of Latin American Environmental History at University of Iowa, said in a 2024 article in The Conversation .   “Over time,” she writes, “every serving of avocado toast takes a toll on Michoacán’s land, forests and water supply. Rural growers, who lack the resources of large-scale farmers, feel those impacts most keenly,” added Fernandez, who is writing on the development of a global avocado industry centered in Michoacán, the world’s largest avocado-growing region. More recently, in 2021, Mexican environmental officials sent a letter to the US Department of Agriculture (USDA) trying to get the US to update their import policies to ensure avocados allowed in are not associated with deforestation.  While the Biden administration did not respond immediately to this request, Mexico and the private sector stepped up. Mexico vowed to make their avocados “deforestation-free” by 2026, with President Claudia Sheinbaum announcing a plan to produce a federal certification system to reduce agriculture-based deforestation and forced labor.  Michoacán developed a “Pro-Forest Avocado” program. The program requires avocado packinghouses to use an online platform called the Forest Guardian Monitoring System —compiled by Guardian Forestal, a Mexican NGO—to vet all potential suppliers and exclude any orchards that include land cleared since 2018. Ensuring US markets utilize this resource could send strong signals to the markets to reduce deforestation. As You Sow ,  a blog that has been tracking this issue, applauded the move to create an online portal for the Mexican avocado industry to use “to verify avocado sourcing.”  “The system is elegantly simple: orchards established before 2018 are considered legal—accounting for the six-year growth cycle of avocado trees—while newer orchards without federal permits are flagged as illegal,” As You Sow staff member Elizabeth Leby wrote in February 2025. Thirsty Fruit Avocados notoriously require a lot of water to grow. It takes, on average, 70 liters (18.4 gallons) of water   to grow an avocado, but this can vary wildly depending on where it’s grown. It takes, on average, 70 liters (18.4 gallons) of water to grow an avocado, but this can vary wildly depending on where it’s grown. For example, research   looking at avocados grown in Chile found that it takes 320 liters (84.5 gallons) to produce a single avocado. That’s more water than is needed daily to sustain three humans.  In contrast, a   recent analysis on California avocado crop water   use found that the average daily crop water requirements were “estimated at 29.2 and 33.7 gallons per tree in spring and summer, and 17.7 gallons per tree in fall and winter.” Moreover, “in a winter with normal or wet rainfall conditions, precipitation most likely provides sufficient water to compensate for avocado tree water needs,” the analysis said, adding that its data “verifies this for 2023 and 2024 at all avocado sites.” Due to their demands for water, avocado plantations in different areas have been linked to exacerbating climate change–induced water crises. A quick search can find numerous articles and reports showing how avocado plantations are contributing to water overuse in places like Colombia ,  Portugal ,  and even the avocado’s origin country, Mexico . Increased water use is caused by both legitimate and illegal farms. A large avocado plantation using drip irrigation. William Luque/iStock  Transportation Costs Mexican avocados don’t have to travel very far to reach their largest consumers: Mexico and the US.  Still, truck freighting emissions to transport avocados from Mexico to the US generates around 2 kg CO 2 e   (carbon dioxide equivalent) per kilogram of avocados. “While   truck transport   [of avocados] from Mexico to the United States is less energy-intensive compared to air freight, it still contributes to greenhouse gas emissions,” Thomas Lassen wrote in 2023 on his Sustainable Wave   blog.  But as the industry demand continues to globalize, transportation costs have gone up. Countries like Portugal that are getting into the planting of avocados argue that upping their plantation acreage helps reduce transportation emissions costs. But unless closer locations become a larger share of the regional market (which might not be the best idea for their local water supply), customers far away from avocado-rich Mexico might consider alternatives   with lower carbon footprints like coconut milk, edamame beans, fava beans, and pesto. Video   about the water impacts of avocado monocropping in Portugal. Room for Growth In Mexico, some avocado farmers, mainly small- and medium-scale ones, have begun employing more sustainable farming methods to reduce water and chemical usage and improve soil health and biodiversity. Some avocado farmers, mainly small- and medium-scale ones, have begun employing more sustainable farming methods. “When I was in the field in Michoacán, we talked to a lot of [small- to medium-sized avocado] producers who live there and manage the land themselves, and because of that they’re really interested and invested in the landscape,” Denvir recalled. “They understand that if you get rid of all the forests, then that’s not good for avocado production itself. You’re going to run out of water. So, for their own business, they want to protect the forest.” Some methods she saw farmers use included maintaining a matrix of forest on their property to maintain healthy local water sources and limiting chemical usage to maintain good water quality. One of the best ways to sustainably farm, though, is to grow other plants in conjunction with avocados.  However, that’s something farmers can’t really do if they want to export to the US. The US Department of Agriculture’s import regulations currently require only one crop type to grow on a particular field, Denvir said. The USDA explains  that this is to reduce the risk that avocados could carry insect pests, their eggs, or plant diseases into the US. Supporters of crop rotations, cover cropping and companion planting are urging a change in USDA policy for avocados. “These regulations need to be rethought and updated to allow for ecologically, biologically minded systems, because now we understand all of the impacts of monoculture,” Denvir said. “Some of these farmers use polyculture systems, but they can only do it part of the year, and then the USDA comes in and surveys and says, ‘Well, we have to get rid of all this squash and stuff that’s growing alongside the avocado.’” Other places that are just entering the global avocado market, like Kenya ,  are working to start off on the right foot earlier into the industry’s inception. For example, the Center for International Forestry Research’s World Agroforestry Centre is working to train avocado farmers   on sustainable farming practices through the Fruit Trees for Climate Adaptation and Mitigation in East Africa project. “I think there’s a lot of opportunity for avocado production to get better and for a way to sustain a global market for it that isn’t so [ecologically] destructive,” Denvir said. *Becky Hoag   is a freelance environmental reporter. You can find her work on her site beckyhoag.com   and through her YouTube channel https://youtube.com/beckisphere

William Wordsworth's Love of Nature Sparked the Soul of Environmentalism By Mal Cole* A group of hikers descend from Scafell Pike, England’s tallest mountain, in Lake District National Park. Thomas Roth/iStock “I wandered lonely as a cloud,” wrote William Wordsworth in 1804. This line has become one of nature writing’s most famous similes and synonymous with the emotional sensibility of the Romantic poets. It’s hard to realize today, but such similes—and such poetry—were not common at the time. Wordsworth (1770–1850) wanted to break away from the stuffy, heroic couplets of the day and move into a new realm of poetry rooted in love of nature—soulful and bursting with passion but still with verses carefully ordered, rhymed, and metered. Wordsworth wanted to test his ideas about nature as a source of spiritual solace and as a moral force. So, when he and his good friend and fellow poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge published their first collection of poetry, Lyrical Ballads , in 1798, it indeed set a sharp new precedent in style. It was so potent that it has carried into modern thinking  and even propelled today’s conservation and environmental movements. Wordsworth wanted to test his ideas about nature as a source of spiritual solace and as a moral force. Lyrical Ballads is the work that most scholars agree was the jumping-off point for Romantic poetry. Romanticism, an intellectual period that lasted into the mid-19th century, encompassed many areas of thought, including science, the visual arts, and music. Reaction against Materialist Intellectualism When Lyrical Ballads was published, Wordsworth and Coleridge were bringing their ideas to an interesting debate that went beyond the language of poetry. Erasmus Darwin , an acquaintance of theirs (and grandfather of Charles Darwin), had published a book in verse, The Botanic Garden,  about some of the minutiae of the sexual reproduction of plants, and Lyrical Ballads was partly a response to Darwin’s treatise. What was important to Wordsworth was not the mechanical specifics of how nature worked but what moral principles and metaphorical parallels human beings could draw from it to guide their lives. This idea is reflected in Wordsworth’s poem “ The Tables Turned ”: Sweet is the lore that nature brings; Our meddling intellect Misshapes the beauteous form of things— We murder to dissect. In the book Natural Magic: Emily Dickinson, Charles Darwin, and the Dawn of Modern Science ,   Renée Bergland writes that Wordsworth’s poem “offered sharp critique of Erasmus Darwin’s materialist approach to studying the natural world, arguing that unmediated experience was more spiritually and psychologically meaningful than methodical study that focused on specific plants and animals” (Bergland, p. 33). To Wordsworth, if the scientific value of dissection was obvious, its spiritual value was not as evident. It would be a mistake to say that Wordsworth found no poetry in science, but Wordsworth found more meaning in nature as a system. The word ecology  did not exist in Wordsworth’s time (it wasn’t coined until 1866), but he was an ecological thinker. In Romantic Ecology: Wordsworth and the Environmental Tradition , author Jonathan Bate notes that Wordsworth had a sense of himself as an element of the natural world and was curious about himself as part of that world. This was an idea that later inspired American Transcendentalists like Henry David Thoreau. Bate writes that writers/thinkers like Wordsworth and Thoreau were unique in their “emphasis on a symbiosis between the economies of nature and the activities of humankind” (Bate, p. 39). William Wordsworth, in an 1842 portrait. He was poet laureate of the United Kingdom from 1843 to 1850. Benjamin Robert Haydon/Wikipedia Wordsworth the Environmentalist This concern for nature in the context of “the activities of humankind” is evident in Wordsworth’s writing about his beloved Lake District in England. Wordsworth was fond of rambling in the countryside with his sister Dorothy, and he became concerned about the effects, even in the early 19th century, of increased human activity in the area. The poet wanted to preserve the Lake District and its natural beauty and writes about it in his traveler’s handbook for the region, Guide through the District of the Lakes in the North of England. As Bate notes, part of Wordsworth’s aim in writing the guide was to care for the area’s ecosystem (Bate, p. 47). Wordsworth even suggested  in his 1810 Guide  that the Lake District become a “national property” that could be accessible to anyone with an “eye to perceive and a heart to enjoy.” This idea of a “national property” eventually contributed to the modern idea of a national park. The world’s first national park, Yellowstone , was established in 1872 in the United States, with many others being designated thereafter. The English Lake District became  a national park in 1951 and a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2017. Even without a modern understanding of environmental science, preserving the Lake District became a compulsion for Wordsworth. He believed that spiritual and physical wholesomeness could be found in one’s specific environment. Part of what Bate calls Romantic ecology  is that nature is essential to human survival. As Bate notes, “The ‘Romantic Ecology’ reverences the green earth because it recognizes that neither physically nor psychologically can we live without green things; it proclaims that there is ‘one life’ within us and abroad, that the earth is a single vast ecosystem which we destabilize at our peril” (Bate, p. 40). Beyond the physical and mental health benefits of green spaces, Wordsworth saw profound spiritual benefits to connection with the natural world. But beyond the physical and mental health benefits of green spaces, Wordsworth saw profound spiritual benefits to connection with the natural world and, though he lived in a profoundly Christian society, he sought to separate that spirituality from expressly Christian beliefs. Richard Holmes writes in The Age of Wonder that Wordsworth and Coleridge tried to avoid alluding to God while still exploring ideas of the spiritual and sublime. “[Wordsworth and Coleridge], at this most radical point in their lives, were trying to avoid an explicit reference to God, while retaining their intuitions of a ‘spiritual’ power—whatever that might be—both within man and within the natural universe” (Holmes, p. 316). Wordsworth the Contemplative Wordsworth explores this idea of spirituality beyond Christianity further in his poem “ Expostulation and Reply .” There, the poet speaks about his preference for contemplating nature over reading books or scripture. He talks about cultivating “wise passiveness,” and says: Think you, ’mid this mighty sum Of things forever speaking, That nothing of itself will come But we must still be seeking. Wise passiveness, to the poet, constituted cultivating a state of receptivity to the natural world. The poem is a foundational text of Romanticism, contrasting the Romantic emphasis on intuition, emotion, and direct experience of nature with the Neoclassical focus on reason, formal education, and the authority of books. Lying on the shore of Wastwater, England’s deepest lake, the hamlet of Wasdale Head is nestled among mountains in Lake District National Park. Miguel Arcanjo Saddi/Pexels Professor and eco-critic Kate Rigby notes in her book, Reclaiming Romanticism , that in Wordsworth’s “Expostulation” poem, he is “arguing that the cultivation of wise passiveness provides a different kind of mental nourishment: namely, one that is afforded by a heightened receptivity to those other-than-human utterances that arrive unbidden from ‘the mighty sum / of things forever speaking’” (Rigby, p. 25). In other words, if one is receptive, the “things” of nature convey a knowledge and wisdom every bit as valuable as what one can derive from books. Wordsworth’s ideas about contemplation have more in common with Eastern meditational traditions, such as Taoism and Buddhism, than Christianity. Rigby also notes that Wordsworth’s ideas about contemplation have more in common with Eastern meditational traditions, such as Taoism and Buddhism, than Christianity. The poet’s connection to place is also reminiscent of Indigenous spirituality. Potawatomi environmental scientist and author Robin Wall Kimmerer describes a process of connecting with land and place in her book Braiding Sweetgrass. In the chapter “In the Footsteps of Nanabozho Becoming Indigenous to Place,” Kimmerer imagines the journey of Nanabozho, the Anishinaabe cultural hero and First Man. She describes, through Nanabozho’s journey, the process of becoming indigenous to a place, a process she sees as essential if human beings want to learn to protect the Earth. But, as Kimmerer emphasizes, not everyone can be an indigenous person. In this case, Kimmerer describes how a person might become “naturalized”: “Being naturalized to place means to live as if this is the land that feeds you, as if these are the streams from which you drink, that build your body and feed your spirit” (Kimmerer, p. 208). Wordsworth was born in the Lake District, and his poetry suggests that he was connected to that place in the way Kimmerer describes. He looked to the land to replenish not just his body but his spirit. Dorothy’s Inspiration for William Drawing of Dorothy Wordsworth. Wikipedia Wordsworth considers nature his guide in a spiritual life. He studied it closely, and he shared this fascination for nature with his sister Dorothy. She was his close friend and confidante, joining with him on his jaunts through the countryside. Her journals often served as inspiration for William’s poetry. So, Wordsworth’s famous cloud was not quite as lonely as the poet suggests. His sister was with him for his encounter with “ A host , of golden daffodils; / Beside the lake, Beneath the trees / Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.”   Both brother and sister were keen observers of nature, and in the modern era this sort of environmental “noticing” has become a kind of activism. Author Jenny Odell writes in How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy that noticing nature is a way to wrestle one’s inner world away from the social media and advertising that vie to consume one’s attention. Odell’s own experiments in attention led to a “complete re-rendering” of her reality. “As I disengaged the map of my attention from the destructive news cycle and the rhetoric of productivity, I began to build another one based on that of the more-than-human community, simply through patterns of noticing,” she writes (Odell, p. 122). Odell sees the reorienting of her attention to nature as a radical act and a kind of protest--much as Wordsworth defends his practice of wise passiveness toward “the mighty sum / of things forever speaking.”                                                                               In “I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud,” Wordsworth is so moved by his encounter with wild daffodils that their beauty stays with him. As he sits quietly at home remembering the beauteous scene, “… then my heart with pleasure fills, / And dances with the daffodils.” This moment with nature became a symbol of true joy and peace for Wordsworth that he could call upon in a quiet moment like a prayer or meditation. He looked to his environment to inspire his spirituality, and that impulse can be seen yet today in efforts to reconnect with the natural world. *Mal Cole   is a freelance science and nature writer based in Massachusetts. Bibliography Bate, Jonathan. Romantic Ecology: Wordsworth and the Environmental Tradition . Routledge, 1991. Bergland, Renée. Natural Magic . Princeton University Press, 2024. Holmes, Richard. The Age of Wonder: How the Romantic Generation Discovered the Beauty and Terror of Science . Pantheon Books, 2008. Odell, Jenny. How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy. Melville House, 2019. Rigby, Kate. Reclaiming Romanticism: Towards an Ecopoetics of Decolonisation . Bloomsbury Academic, 2020.

How Birds Colonized Life Forms on Barren Icelandic Lava   By Gordon Cairns* Sea mayweed ( Tripleurospermum maritimum ) colonizing lava on Surtsey island. Image courtesy of Pawel Wasowicz In 1963, an unexpected volcanic eruption off the coast of Iceland changed the shape of the world forever: It created the world’s youngest island , Surtsey, named after a giant in Norse mythology. Scientists immediately grasped the significance of this fledgling island. While lava was still erupting on Surtsey, a group of far-sighted local biologists made landfall. There, the scientists, whose boots were scrubbed clean of possible contaminants, were presented with a unique natural experiment: a virgin land mass, entirely free from human habitation or intentional species introduction, where the assembly of life could be observed and recorded from its creation. Surtsey viewed from the northernmost part of the island. Image courtesy of Pawel Wasowicz For the next six decades, studies of Surtsey have followed the slow arrival of vascular plants, mosses, and microbes, and then insects and birds. Tracking these activities has offered scientists fundamental insights into how ecosystems appear on bare rock and ash. As Pawel Wasowicz, department director of botany at the Natural Science Institute of Iceland, told The Earth & I : “We have recorded every single colonization event from Year 1. There is no other place on Earth where we have 60 years of uninterrupted human precolonization data.” “There is no other place on Earth where we have 60 years of uninterrupted human precolonization data.” Reexamining the Role of Birds Studies at Surtsey have changed researchers’ understanding of how seeds are dispersed . As Wasowicz explains: “Our study suggests that animals, and especially birds, play a much bigger role in ecosystem development than we previously assumed. “The standard view biologists have had since the time of Charles Darwin is that plant arrival could be explained by different seed traits: fluffy seeds carried by the wind, floating seeds carried by water currents, and fleshy fruits dispersed by animals, especially birds, where the seed is expelled after being swallowed.” “Most textbooks assumed the wind and sea currents were the main long-distance dispersal mechanisms to oceanic islands. Therefore, because Surtsey is 32 kilometers (20 miles) offshore, has strong winds, and is, of course, surrounded by the ocean, the expectation was the wind species would arrive first and dominate, and sea-dispersed species would follow. But our data shows this is the wrong idea,” he says. Actual evidence points to birds spreading the seeds. Of the 78 plant species that have colonized Surtsey since 1963, documentary evidence reveals 62 have been dispersed by gulls, either by being passed through the animal’s gut or through regurgitation. This was another surprising discovery for the biologists, as previous assumptions said that a gull’s diet consisted of fish. Instead, when Wasowicz and his team examined bird feces, they found small, dry grass seeds. Close-up of seeds in gull feces. Image courtesy of Pawel Wasowicz “The most astonishing thing was finding the huge amount of seed inside the gull. You don’t often see gulls eating grass; perhaps we haven’t been paying enough attention!” he says. Of course, seed alone isn’t enough; plants will struggle to flourish on hard, inhospitable volcanic landscape. But the birds, or “ecosystem engineers,” as Wasowicz calls them, brought the solution to this problem, too, providing fertile soil. Turning Lava into Fertile Soil “Another major role of the bird,” he says, “is that they brought fertilizer." Although the general public might associate nutrient-rich volcanic soil with fertility, soil in the northern latitudes is lacking in one very crucial component. “There is only a tiny amount of nitrogen, which is the main building block for life. Without nitrogen, you don’t get protein,” Wasowicz notes. “The droppings of the bird are rich in nitrogen, phosphorus and all types of nutrients crucial to plant life. When the birds came, they enriched the whole ecosystem, and this process allowed the vegetation to flourish.” “When the birds came, they enriched the whole ecosystem, and this process allowed the vegetation to flourish.” Via a Zoom call from Iceland, Wasowicz showed two photographs taken 40 years apart. One shows a barren, gray volcanic landscape while the other is a lush, green scene, solely engineered by generations of birds. Before-and-after photographs from the southern part of Surtsey. The 1975 (top) image shows a lava field before the bird colony became established. The 2021 (bottom) image shows approximately the same location with continuous vegetation cover. Images courtesy of Pawel Wasowicz “They are changing how the ecosystem works by transporting different things. In this case, the birds transformed Surtsey’s soil chemistry and this enabled more complex plant communities to develop,” the botanist says. New Species Are Arriving And in this constantly evolving landscape, the Atlantic puffin is set to move into the sites the gulls are currently colonizing. Wasowicz has spotted the initial signs that the landscape created by other birds will soon become an ideal and welcoming habitat to puffins, the most photogenic of birds. While 60% of the world’s population of puffins breed in Iceland, numbers have declined there by 70% since 1975, putting the iconic bird on  the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) Red List  of Threatened Species. Wasowicz explains the process where the activities of one bird species will be creating a new landscape for an endangered one: “The gulls came first and started to breed on the island, which enriched the vegetation; we now have this rich, green grassland on the south of the island. And here we slowly saw the first evidence [that] another bird species is coming that relies on the deeper soil—[which is the] puffins. They live in burrows where they dig deep; you cannot dig into lava.” He adds that although gulls currently breed in the deep grass of Surtsey, this isn’t something they usually do. At some point, they will stop breeding here, and the probability is this will become a breeding and nesting place for puffins, an ideal location where the bird will not encounter ground-based predators. “The probability is this will become a breeding and nesting place for puffins, an ideal location where the bird will not encounter ground-based predators.” Another photogenic northern sea creature, the seal, has already arrived, attracted by the seashore habitat created by the gulls. The mammals return in the autumn and winter, bringing with them a lot of nutrients, which also helps pollination. “They were attracted,” Wasowicz says, “by the coastal environment, where they could give birth, and the pups could live in peace for their first few months.” “Selur,” a seal pup on Surtsey’s volcanic rock. Image courtesy of Pawel Wasowicz Global Implications The great news is that the findings from Surtsey’s outdoor laboratory can be applied elsewhere in the world to support ecological restoration and artificial habitat creation, with birds employed as “ecosystem engineers.” Wasowicz lists the possibilities: land restoration, wetlands development, mine-degraded land, volcanic sites, and even coastal sites where there is a lack of nutrients transformed into fertile landscapes by the activity of the birds. “Supporting bird activity,” he adds, “may dramatically speed up these restorations and expand them. You can get seeds and fertilizer into areas that are lacking these components, such as restoring a mining site that has very poor soil. Then you can think about trying to support the bird life of these areas, as this will probably help them.” This support could come through creating landscapes that are designed to specifically attract birds, such as shallow ponds or small wetlands and heterogeneous habitats that can encourage feeding, cresting, and nesting. “We need to encourage connectivity where we have corridors and stepping-stones for the animals between the habitats. We can use wildlife and bird life to kick-start transformation. It happened on Surtsey,” Wasowicz concludes.“ Surtsey seen from the beach in the northern part of the island. Image courtesy of Pawel Wasowicz *Gordon Cairns is a freelance journalist and teacher of English at the Forest Schools, based in Scotland.