By now, you know the formula. It’s a mainstay of climate reporting, used again and again in story after story: a paragraph that vividly conjures the vast, unfurling crisis we face. A barrage of unsparing detail, played out like a shock and awe campaign, dramatizing...
Forests for me are a place of peace. A space where I am able to disconnect from the chaos of my everyday life. Yet, while the forest is a tranquil escape for me, it is anything but silent for the great trees which call it home. As Peter Wohlleben states in his book...
The other day I, for a number of reasons, found myself talking to the person charged with installing fiber optic cables on my street. I could tell from his Southern accent and bewilderment at the cold that he wasn’t from around here, and I could tell he was at least...
A farm grew in Brooklyn. Did. Used to. I figured out today that it’s gone now. But that doesn’t change the fact that for a couple years, a farm grew in Flatbush. Broccoli, cucumber, bittermelon, callaloo, Swiss chard, marigolds, zinnias, Thai basil, sungold cherry...
I didn’t think about joy too much until January 31, 2020. It was the day my roommate in Brooklyn, upon walking through the threshold of our fourth floor pre-war apartment in Bushwick – old scuffed floors, funny little entryway in which we hung a tiny disco...
