Just after graduating from my Master’s program at University of Cambridge / Cambridge Institute for Sustainability Leadership (CISL) last summer, I went to Stockholm, Sweden for vacation. While I was there, I stayed in a beautiful neighborhood that was a perfect melding of nature and city infrastructure.
Thanks to a very serendipitous bowl of soup, I learned from a waiter that this neighborhood had a secret – it had been transformed from a toxic, industrial wasteland into a living lab for climate action.
I had the opportunity to interview incredible people for this piece including the former finance minister of Sweden, the lead architect, energy and climate researchers, and the team members of ElectriCITY, the collective leading the district’s sustainability efforts. Their inspiring blueprint can be adapted and applied in every city, including my hometown of NYC.
This Friday, the world celebrates a staggering milestone as Sir David Attenborough turns 100. For a century, he has served as one of nature’s fiercest advocates and storytellers, moving from showing us the beauty of the wild to imploring us to take a stand for nature’s survival and our own. His career proves that meaningful change is rarely a sprint; it is a relentless, lifelong commitment to shifting how we see the world and our place in it. I, like so many other people, have been profoundly influenced by him and his passion for our natural world. Graduating from University of Cambridge, as he did, after studying Sustainability Leadership set my life and career on a new course.
Doubling Down on the Blueprint
I have been thinking a lot about this long-term perspective lately, especially with the publication of my latest feature in Smithsonian Magazine. I spent months diving into the story of Hammarby Sjöstad, a neighborhood in Stockholm that set out with intensely ambitious sustainability goals in the 1990s.
When the project initially fell short of its targets, the community did not abandon the mission. They doubled down. A group of neighbors got together and created ElectriCITY Innovation. They treated their failures as data points and evolved their strategy, eventually creating a circular-economy blueprint that cities across the globe can adapt and apply. You can read the full story of their decades-long journey toward resilience in my new feature:
Whether we look at Attenborough’s hundred-year legacy or Stockholm’s thirty-year urban experiment, the lesson for our own communities remains clear: sustainability requires the stamina to stay in the game when things get difficult.
Celebrate the storytellers: Take a moment this Friday to watch a piece of Attenborough’s work and reflect on how his perspective shaped your own understanding of nature.
Audit your long game: Look at a sustainability project in your own neighborhood that feels stalled. Instead of viewing a missed goal as a failure, ask how you can double down and pivot the strategy like Stockholm did.
Share the blueprint: When you find a solution that works, document it and share it. Evolution happens when we learn from each other’s experiments, failures, and triumphs. Sustainability is not a one-and-done task. It’s a process of continuous improvement.
Nature and our cities both require us to think in decades, not just days. To honor Dr. David Attenborough and the beings with whom we share this planet, let’s keep building for the next century.
Poppies in California. Photo by Sarah Wood on Unsplash.
The California poppy is a masterclass in resilience. As a universal symbol of remembrance and hope, this delicate flower possesses a rugged secret. It thrives in some of the most challenging environments on earth, specifically germinating and flourishing in the harsh, scarred soil left behind by wildfires.
While a desert superbloom relies entirely on the unpredictable rhythms of weather, one community in Southern California decided not to wait for perfect conditions. They chose to actively orchestrate their own recovery.
The Ashes of Altadena In January 2025, the devastating Eaton Fire swept through the foothills of Altadena, California. The blaze destroyed thousands of structures, claiming homes, businesses, and irreplaceable personal histories.
Among the survivors was René Amy, a longtime community activist. The fire consumed his home and, in a cruel twist of irony, his native wildflower seed business called Altadena Maid Products. He lost his entire inventory to the flames. But instead of surrendering to the devastation, he immediately began volunteering at local shelters and looking for ways to heal his neighborhood.
The Great Altadena Poppy Project Understanding the deep psychological toll of the fire, René launched the Great Altadena Poppy Project. His vision was breathtakingly simple but massively ambitious: blanket the fire-scarred town in vibrant color by planting poppies – millions of them.
A century ago, golden poppy fields covered Altadena so densely that tourists traveled from across the country just to witness the bloom. René wanted to restore that legacy and offer his neighbors a tangible sign of life returning to their barren lots.
He initially purchased 120 million seeds with $20,000 of his own money and invited fire-impacted residents to sign up for free seeding services on their impacted properties. The response was overwhelming. Hundreds of homeowners asked to participate. Thanks to an outpouring of community support and anonymous donations, the project expanded its goal to sow a quarter of a billion seeds across more than 700 properties.
Orchestrating a Bloom This effort is the ultimate example of community orchestration. René and his crew of volunteers traverse the burn zones, spreading seeds across empty lots and blackened earth. Local scout troops pack envelopes of seeds to distribute globally, allowing friends and family far away to plant their own flowers in solidarity.
They are not just planting flowers; they are actively rehabilitating the degraded soil, preventing erosion, and providing a massive food source for local pollinators. Most importantly, they are giving traumatized residents a reason to look forward to the spring.
The Togetherhood Takeaway When we face immense loss or walk through a difficult season, it is easy to look at the scorched earth and assume nothing will ever grow there again. The residents of Altadena remind us that we do not have to passively wait for healing to arrive. We can plant the seeds of our own recovery.
Perhaps the most inspiring aspect of this entire project is its absolute lack of formal bureaucracy. René Amy did not wait to incorporate a nonprofit, assemble a board of directors, or build a complex fundraising platform. He just bought seeds and started asking his neighbors to help. This operates as pure mutual aid. It proves that you do not need a massive organizational apparatus or a corporate budget to orchestrate a community transformation. You simply need a good idea and the willingness to do the work.
Imagine what our country would look like if we all took this grassroots approach to our local ecosystems. A nationwide sight of vibrant, resilient flowers pushing through the cracks would be a powerful testament to our collective strength.
You can get involved with the Altadena project directly and bring this exact DIY energy to your own neighborhood right now.
Fund the recovery: While the poppy planting operates informally, the community still needs immense support for ongoing rebuilding and soil rehabilitation. Donating to the Altadena Community Preservation Fund provides direct financial assistance to the fire survivors.
Send seeds of solidarity: The project actively encourages people nationwide to purchase and plant native seeds in their own yards in solidarity with the residents, creating a networked superbloom across the country.
Plant a local blend: While California poppies thrive out West, creating a resilient ecosystem locally requires native species adapted to our specific climate. Instead of planting poppies, source a specific wildflower blend native to your area. In New York, that blend could contain Lanceleaf Coreopsis, Purple Coneflower, and Black-Eyed Susan. Scattering these in tree beds, empty lots, or window boxes around NYC creates a vital food source for local bees and birds.
Support local restoration: Channel the energy of the poppy project into ongoing efforts in our home area. In New York City, volunteering with the Brooklyn Greenway Initiative or local community gardens helps build the exact same kind of resilient infrastructure René Amy is building in California.
Be the orchestrator: Do not wait for someone else or a formal organization to beautify your street. Organize your neighbors, share resources, and create the conditions for your community to thrive.
Nature teaches us that even the most devastating fires eventually give way to new growth. We just have to be willing to do the planting and ask others to join us in our efforts.
Death Valley is the hottest, driest, and lowest place in North America. Most of the time, it looks like a barren, windswept land. Unforgiving. Hopeless. On the surface, it looks as if nothing could ever survive here. In line with its name, dead.
And yet, out of sight, millions of tiny seeds, bits of magic, lie in wait for just the right conditions to fulfill their potential. Patiently, they track rainfall, temperature, and wind. They have one shot to show us what they can do so they wait for the odds to be ever in their favor.
November 2025 – January 2026 set the stage for them to shine. In those months, a year’s worth of rain fell. The record rains leached salts from the soil and that triggered massive germination. The temperatures were exceptionally mild without becoming scorching hot. A mild winter and early spring temperatures gave the seeds the exact level of warmth they needed without burning them. The winds were calm, allowing the seeds to anchor themselves and root into the soil at their earliest growth stage rather than being blown away.
The patience of the seeds was rewarded, and so were we. The 2026 superbloom of wild flowers in Death Valley was the most significant in a decade, and on par with those in 2016, 2005, and 1998. Desert Gold, Poppy, Verbena, Golden Evening Primrose, and Purple Phacelia bloomed in such density that they looked like swaths of color rather than individuals flowers. The monotonous, dry land of Death Valley was transformed into a thing of beauty that rivals, and I would argue exceeds, any work of human art.
Bees buzz. Hummingbirds hover. A light wind carries the perfume of the flowers. Sights, sounds, and scents for sore eyes, weary souls, and hearts that need to be made whole in a way that only nature can provide. It will not last forever, and will be gone all too soon. But while it’s here, in all its blooming glory, we revel in it.
The Togetherhood Takeaway Long after the flowers wilt and Death Valley fades back to its seemingly empty landscape, we can carry the superbloom’s lessons into our lives, communities, and careers.
We don’t do anything alone The context and environment in which we find ourselves impacts our growth and progress. I’m obsessed with settings and orchestration. It’s my favorite thing to work on. How can I create the conditions to thrive, for myself and for others? How can I help us all to grow together?
Timing matters We are so quick to judge our own efforts and the efforts of others as if we solely control how successful something is. While we have control over our own efforts, we do not own the results. That is a difficult lesson for creators of any kind to learn and accept. It’s why I spend a lot of time and effort on creating environments and ecosystems where the people I work with can become the best versions of themselves. Some of our experiments work right out of the gate. Some of them don’t. And many times, our successes and failures are truly a matter of timing. The good news is we can always learn and try again. Improvement, no matter where we start, is a continuous process.
Quiet work is foundational It’s healthy to take a break, regroup, reflect, and come back stronger and more well-rested, and perhaps in a totally different form. Just because someone isn’t showing off what they’re doing doesn’t mean they aren’t building something worthy. In a world that is addicted to social media and recording every single moment for public consumption, there’s a profound sense of peace to be found in doing work in our own space without outside distractions. We don’t need to accept that all eyes have to be on us all the time. Underground work has immense value. We can choose the time to bloom when it’s right for us.
March 20th marks the spring equinox and World Rewilding Day. Around the globe, conservationists and community leaders are celebrating this year’s theme: Choose Our Future.
We often operate under the assumption that we have to engineer our way out of every crisis. We build concrete seawalls to stop flooding and pour chemicals into the soil to force crops to grow. But the rewilding movement offers a radically different approach to leadership and resilience. It suggests that nature already holds the solutions. When we step back, relinquish a little control, and restore the natural balance, the ecosystem heals itself.
We can see this extraordinary transformation happening right now across diverse landscapes and communities.
The Affric Highlands In the central Highlands of Scotland, a groundbreaking, community-led coalition is leading the largest rewilding project in the United Kingdom. For centuries, intensive grazing and logging severely depleted the region, fragmenting the ancient Caledonian pinewoods.
Instead of forcing a heavily engineered recovery, the Affric Highlands project focuses on natural regeneration across 200,000 hectares of land. A diverse group of local landowners, businesses, and volunteers work together to remove barriers and simply allow native birch, rowan, and alder to reclaim the bare hillsides. As the trees return, so do the red squirrels, golden eagles, and black grouse. They are proving that large-scale nature recovery works best when deeply rooted in local collaboration, creating a landscape where both the wildlife and the rural economy thrive together.
The Naval Cemetery Landscape Rewilding does not require thousands of acres; it happens in the densest urban environments. Right here in Brooklyn, a forgotten piece of history recently experienced a profound ecological rebirth. For almost a century, a plot of land at the Brooklyn Navy Yard served as a hospital burial ground before the military decommissioned it.
Instead of paving it over for commercial development, the Brooklyn Greenway Initiative transformed the site into the Naval Cemetery Landscape. They planted a 1.8-acre meadow teeming with over fifty native plant species like milkweed, asters, and switchgrass. Today, this formerly restricted land is a public haven buzzing with native bees, moths, and migratory birds. A raised wooden boardwalk allows visitors to experience the vibrant ecosystem without disturbing the soil. By bringing abundant life to a space that memorializes the dead, the community created a powerful sanctuary honoring the cycles of nature.
The Saw Mill River Daylighting In Yonkers, New York, city planners buried the Saw Mill River under a concrete parking lot in the 1920s. For nearly a century, the waterway vanished from the community. Recently, a coalition of residents and environmentalists championed a daylighting project to tear up the concrete and bring the river back to the surface.
Today, a thriving aquatic ecosystem runs right through the downtown plaza. American eels, snapping turtles, and migratory birds returned almost immediately. Uncovering the river revitalized the local economy and proved that removing artificial barriers allows life to rush back in with incredible speed.
The Snowchange Cooperative In Finland, decades of industrial peat mining severely damaged the boreal forests and wetlands. A network of local villages and Indigenous Sámi communities formed the Snowchange Cooperative to buy back the degraded land and restore it.
They block the old drainage ditches and allow the water to flood the peatlands once again. This simple act creates vital habitats for nesting birds and traps massive amounts of carbon. They combine traditional ecological knowledge with modern science, showing that the people who live closest to the land are often its most effective healers.
Green Forests Work Across the Appalachian region of the United States, legacy coal mining left behind millions of acres of compacted, barren land. Traditional reclamation simply planted non-native grasses, creating ecological dead zones.
An organization called Green Forests Work takes a completely different approach. They use heavy machinery to deliberately rip up the compacted earth, loosening the soil so water can penetrate. Then, volunteers plant native hardwood trees like American chestnut and oak. By breaking up the hardened surface, they allow a diverse, native forest ecosystem to replace an extractive wasteland.
The Togetherhood Takeaway Rewilding is more than an ecological strategy; it is a mindset for community building.
When we look at our own neighborhoods, our workplaces, and our creative projects, we often try to force outcomes. We exhaust ourselves trying to micromanage every detail. Rewilding teaches us to focus on the environment instead. When we cultivate healthy soil, encourage diversity, and remove the toxic barriers, we do not have to force growth. It happens naturally.
This spring, consider how you can rewild your own life. Plant native species in your window box. Support local ecosystem restoration projects. If you have a lawn, let it grow wild and free – better for you and better for the planet. Give yourself permission to grow, thrive, and create joy even in times of difficulty. Save room in your life for the unexpected and the not-yet-imagined. Be a joiner and link arms with those around you. Nature teaches us that when we uplift others, we create the conditions for everyone to rise together.
The news cycle frequently reminds us how fragile our extractive energy systems truly are. When we rely on distant supply chains and volatile markets to power our homes, a disruption on the other side of the world immediately impacts our local stability. We tether our daily lives to global anxieties.
But true energy independence looks entirely different. It comes from making nature an ally.
When we build symbiotic systems that harness the sun and the wind, we stop relying on extraction and start cultivating true resilience. Renewable energy does more than lower carbon emissions; it insulates our communities from global market shocks. The sun does not care about international borders, and the wind does not respond to market panic. They simply provide.
Across the country, communities are already proving that the best way to weather a global storm is to build a strong local energy ecosystem.
Sunset Park, Brooklyn
Right in our own backyard in Brooklyn, a grassroots organization called UPROSE is transforming the industrial waterfront. They spearheaded the creation of New York City’s first cooperatively owned community solar project on the roof of the Brooklyn Army Terminal. This massive solar array—a system that links hundreds of individual solar panels together so they function as one unified power plant—provides discounted, clean energy to approximately 150 local households and small businesses. Instead of traditional corporate ownership, UPROSE and the developer Working Power co-own the system alongside the community. They direct the revenue generated by the array into a community wealth fund, allowing residents to finance additional local projects based on their own priorities. This structure empowers Sunset Park residents to vote on spending the profits, such as funding additional local solar initiatives. Instead of waiting for top-down solutions, the neighborhood is building its own climate resiliency and keeping the economic benefits firmly rooted in the community.
Shungnak, Alaska
Inside the Arctic Circle, the remote Iñupiat village of Shungnak historically relied entirely on shipped-in diesel fuel to run its generators. This dependence made energy incredibly expensive (sometimes as much as $15 per gallon) and vulnerable to supply chain issues. Recently, the community installed a hybrid microgrid featuring a 225-kilowatt solar array and an advanced 384-kilowatt-hour lithium iron phosphate battery system. These batteries are grid-forming, meaning they seamlessly take over the electrical load without a flicker. They provide a safer, longer-lasting alternative to standard lithium-ion options. This technology allows the village to completely shut off its diesel engines for hours at a time during the long summer days. The community has recorded stretches of up to 11 straight hours running purely on solar and battery power. The system saves the community 15,000 to 25,000 gallons of diesel fuel annually. This translates to well over $125,000 in savings each year, bringing true energy independence and resilience to the region. This project won Solar Builder Magazine’s Project of the Year Award.
Buffalo, New York
Upstate in Buffalo, New York, a non-profit called PUSH Buffalo transformed a vacant 1927 public school building into a thriving community hub. The renovated School 77 now houses 30 affordable senior apartments, a neighborhood gymnasium, and a local theater company. They installed a 64-kilowatt community-owned solar array on the roof to supply energy to the local grid. PUSH Buffalo offers the resulting energy credits directly to the buildings low-income tenants at a steeply discounted rate compared to the standard utility company. Furthermore, the tenants engage in a participatory budgeting process to decide exactly how to spend any excess revenue generated by the system. While they initially lacked the funding for battery storage, PUSH Buffalo actively plans to add this capacity. This future upgrade will officially turn School 77 into a microgrid and resiliency hub during extreme weather conditions.
The Togetherhood Takeaway These communities are not just changing how they get their power; they are fundamentally changing their relationship with the natural world. They are moving from an extractive model that leaves them vulnerable, to a symbiotic model that makes them remarkably strong.
When we make nature our ally, we stop being passive consumers of a fragile global market and start becoming active builders of a resilient local ecosystem that benefits all beings who call it home.
Taking Action in Your Own Ecosystem Building a resilient local grid starts with small, deliberate steps, and you do not need to own a roof to participate. Here are four ways to start cultivating energy independence in your own community right now:
Find a Community Solar Farm: Platforms like EnergySage allow you to enter your zip code and find local solar arrays looking for subscribers. You simply connect your utility account and start powering your home with local sun, often at a discount.
Join a Solar Co-op: Organizations like Solar United Neighbors help neighborhoods band together to bulk-purchase solar installations, driving down costs and building collective community power.
Advocate Locally: Connect with local chapters of the Climate Reality Project to organize around local infrastructure changes and demand clean energy investments from your elected officials.
We feel guilty for being tired in January. But for apple trees, squirrels, and bears doing nothing is the most productive thing they do all year.
I grew up on an apple farm in New York State’s Hudson Valley.
Because of that, my relationship with winter is a little different than most. To the casual observer, an apple orchard in January looks unproductive. The branches are bare, the ground is frozen, and it appears that nothing is happening.
But if you ask a farmer, they’ll tell you January is one of the most critical months of the year. It’s the month that decides the harvest.
We have a tendency in our culture to treat rest as a sign of weakness—or at best, a reward you get only after you’ve burned out. But nature has a different rulebook. She doesn’t ask herself to earn her rest. In the wild, winter isn’t a pause button; it’s an active biological process of repair.
If you’re feeling slow, foggy, or tired this week, I have good news: there’s nothing wrong with you. In fact, you’re doing everything right according to nature. You are just wintering.
Here are three examples of how nature uses the cold to build the future—and how we can adopt a few pages of her playbook.
1. The Apple Tree: Counting the Cold
On the farm, nature and farmers alike live by a concept called “Chill Hours.”
We tend to think trees just “shut off” when the temperature drops. In reality, they’re actively counting. Apple trees have a strict biological requirement to endure a specific number of hours (usually 800 to 1,000) between 32° and 45°F (0° and 7°C.)
If they don’t get those hours—if the winter is too warm or too short—the hormone that suppresses blooming won’t break down. They literally cannot produce fruit in the spring unless they have rested enough in the winter.
The lesson? The productivity of the harvest is biologically impossible without the stillness of the winter. You aren’t losing time by resting; you’re banking your Chill Hours for when the light and warmth of spring return.
2. The Arctic Ground Squirrel: Renovating the Brain
If you’ve felt a bit of “brain fog” lately, you’re in good company.
When the Arctic Ground Squirrel hibernates, their body temperature drops below freezing, and they essentially disconnects their neural pathways. Their brain synapses wither and retract—like pruning a tree—to save energy.
This sounds destructive, but it’s actually a renovation. Research shows that when they wake up, their brains undergo a massive “regrowth” phase. They regenerate those connections stronger and more efficient than before, similar to how muscle fibers when broken down by exercise knit themselves back together when we rest to become stronger.
The brain fog isn’t a failure; it’s a remodel. Sometimes the brain needs to disconnect to clear the clutter and build new pathways for the year ahead.
3. The Black Bear: The Miracle Healers
Finally, there’s the bear. We know they enter a deep sleep in the winter, but what happens while they sleep is the real miracle.
Research from the University of Minnesota found a stunning capability in hibernating black bears: they are super-healers. If a bear goes into hibernation with a wound, the bear will heal faster and with less scarring during their dormant state than they would during the active summer months.
Even with a metabolism running at a fraction of normal speed, their immune system shifts into a specialized repair mode.
It’s a powerful reminder: We heal best when we rest.
A Permission Slip for January
If nature—in all her wisdom and efficiency—requires a season of dormancy to prepare for fruit, rewire the brain, and heal wounds, why do we think we are exempt? Why do we insist on pushing through when what we really need is the sleep and rest that will help us be better versions of ourselves in the long-run? Sleep and rest are powerful tools. Use them. Appreciate them. Luxuriate in them. Your future self will thank you.
So, if you’re struggling to get into high gear this winter, stop. Take a nap. Read a book. Laugh with friends. Eat nourishing food. Breathe. Let the ground freeze knowing you’re giving yourself your necessary Chill Hours. Spring will be here soon enough. Don’t rush it. Rest.
The biggest conservation win of the year is happening this Saturday. 🌊
But the story I can’t stop thinking about this week comes from a farm in Northern Ireland.
Nature is already racking up big and small wins in January 2026:
The High Seas Treaty goes live this weekend (finally!).
A new rule in Northern Ireland stops punishing farmers for having “messy” land.
And 7,000 tiny snails pull off the greatest comeback in history.
Sometimes the best news is found in the weeds. 👇
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Last week, we looked at the major dates on the horizon for nature in 2026. This week, the first one is already knocking on the door.
This Saturday, January 17, the High Seas Treaty officially becomes international law. It is a massive moment for global conservation—perhaps the biggest of the decade. But while the world focuses on the giant blue expanse of the ocean, there was another win this week for the tiny, messy corners of the Earth that deserves just as much attention.
Here are the wins—big and small—that are making me smile this week.
1. The Global Win: The High Seas Treaty Goes Live
Mark your calendars for this Saturday, January 17.
That is the day the High Seas Treaty finally enters into force. It transforms the “Wild West” of the open ocean into a managed, protected space.
This treaty provides the legal power to create marine sanctuaries in international waters for the first time. It has been a decades-long fight involving complex negotiations and 60+ country ratifications, but this weekend, it finally crosses the finish line. As of Saturday, the legal mechanism to protect half the planet is officially “on.”
2. The “Messy” Win: Scrub is No Longer a Crime
We often think of conservation as planting trees or saving whales, but sometimes it is just about updating a spreadsheet.
This month, a quiet but revolutionary policy shift kicked in for farmers in Northern Ireland. For years, farmers there faced financial penalties if their land had too much “scrub”—things like bracken, bog, or wild corners that weren’t “productive” for crops. The old rules literally incentivized them to clear-cut nature just to keep their funding.
As of January 1, that rule is gone. Under the new Farm Sustainability Payment scheme, “soft features” like scrub and naturally regenerating land are no longer treated as a liability. They are now recognized for what they are: vital homes for biodiversity. It is a small policy tweak that sends a huge message: Nature doesn’t have to be neat to be valuable.
3. The Comeback Win: 7,000 Snails Go Home
Finally, a story about resilience that proves it is never too late to go home.
Now, after decades of careful breeding, they are back in the forests of Tahiti and Moorea. Why does this story about snails matter? It is the largest reintroduction of a species officially declared “extinct in the wild” in history. It’s a slow, steady victory brought about by a group of people passionate about saving wildlife—and a reminder for all of us that we can fix what we’ve broken.
A Thought for the Week
Whether it is a treaty covering half the planet or a patch of scrub on a farm in Ireland, the goal is the same: making space for life to thrive.
A jaguar in the wild—a symbol of the resilience we are seeing return to the American Southwest. Photo by Ramon Vloon on Unsplash
I started Togetherhood, my weekly nature newsletter, exactly one year ago, and I am so grateful to every one of you who has subscribed, read, shared, and commented on my nature stories along the way.
To mark this one-year anniversary—and the arrival of 2026—I wanted today’s post to focus on the wins nature secured in 2025. Yes, there were heartbreaking losses that felt like a gut punch. But there were also moments of joy and triumph that received far too little coverage. While we must be clear-eyed about the darkness, we must also give the light her due.
Yesterday, CBS Sunday Morning aired a segment with David Pogue on the good news of 2025. It was a perfect reminder that innovation and compassion are still alive and well. Here are two of the standout nature stories from that segment, plus a few other big wins from around the globe that we should celebrate.
The End of “Forever” Plastic? David Pogue highlighted a game-changer happening right now in Massachusetts. A company called Black Earth Compost is proving that single-use doesn’t have to mean forever. They are utilizing a new kind of “plastic” made entirely from sugar cane. Unlike the “biodegradable” labels of the past that didn’t really work, this stuff actually breaks down alongside household food scraps, turning into nutrient-rich compost rather than microplastics in our soil. It’s a closed-loop win we desperately need.
Farmers & Birds: A Surprise Alliance In California, a program is flipping the script on the usual farmer-vs-environmentalist narrative. Pogue spoke with Katie Riley from The Nature Conservancy about the “BirdReturns” program. In this initiative, farmers (like the Zuckerman family in Lodi, CA) are paid to flood their fields during specific times of the year. These pop-up wetlands create crucial rest stops and feeding grounds for migratory birds like Sandhill Cranes. The result? Farmers get a new revenue stream, and bird populations that were struggling are getting a massive lifeline.
Renewables Finally Beat Coal: This isn’t just a projection anymore; it’s a fact. In October, energy think tank Ember confirmed that for the first time in history, renewables generated more electricity globally than coal (34.3% vs 33.1%) in the first half of the year. Solar alone is doing the heavy lifting, meeting 83% of the increase in global power demand.
The High Seas Are Officially Protected: On September 19, we hit a massive milestone: The High Seas Treatysecured its 60th ratification (thanks to Morocco!), which is the magic number needed to make it international law. This triggers the treaty’s entry into force in January 2026, finally allowing us to create marine sanctuaries in the “Wild West” of the open ocean.
Species Bouncing Back:
Jaguars in Arizona: Just this month, officials confirmed a new male jaguar—dubbed “Jaguar #5”—was spotted on trail cams in Southern Arizona in late November. He is the fifth wild jaguar documented in the state since 2011, proving that despite border walls, these cats are finding a way to return home.
It’s going to be a tough year ahead, but these stories prove that when we give nature half a chance—or when we get smart about solutions—it has an incredible ability to heal.
See you in 2026! We’ve got work to do, and we’ll work together with nature to make this a better world for all beings.
Sugar kelp can grow in the waters around NYC, and thrives during the cold winter months
I recently read a fascinating piece in Smithsonian Magazine about the “underwater forests” returning to life off the coast of California. It details the restoration of Giant Kelp—towering, 100-foot strands that form cathedrals of biodiversity, sequester carbon, and shelter marine life.
It’s an inspiring success story of ecological recovery. But as I read about the Chumash people and marine biologists working together in the Pacific, I couldn’t help but ask a question closer to home: Could we apply this to the waters of New York City?
The answer is a resounding yes—but it looks a little different here. And it’s already beginning.
Different Coast, Different Kelp
In California, the focus is on restoration: bringing back wild Giant Kelp forests that have been decimated by urchins and climate change.
In New York and the broader Northeast, our opportunity lies in regenerative ocean farming. We don’t have the deep-water Giant Kelp; we have Sugar Kelp (Saccharina latissima). This golden-brown algae is shorter, but it is a powerhouse. It thrives in our cold winter waters—growing rapidly when most marine life is dormant—and acts as a “scrubbing brush” for our harbors.
Sugar Kelp absorbs carbon dioxide (fighting ocean acidification) and, crucially for NYC, it soaks up excess nitrogen from urban runoff, which is the main driver of harmful algae blooms.
We aren’t just “restoring” nature here; we are building a blue economy. Here are the local pioneers turning this idea into reality right now.
1. The Indigenous Lead: Shinnecock Kelp Farmers
Just as the Chumash people are leading efforts in California, the Shinnecock Indian Nation is leading the way on Long Island. The Shinnecock Kelp Farmers are a multi-generational collective of Indigenous women leveraging thousands of years of traditional ecological knowledge to heal the water.
They have established the first Indigenous-owned kelp farm on the East Coast in Shinnecock Bay. Their work proves that kelp isn’t just a crop; it’s a tool for sovereignty and survival, actively filtering the waters that sustain their community.
2. The Science: It Works in the East River
You might think kelp needs pristine, open ocean to survive. Think again.
Researchers Dr. Christopher Gobler and Mike Doall from Stony Brook University have been running pilot studies to see if kelp could survive the urban waters of the East River. The results were surprising: the kelp didn’t just survive; in some cases, it grew better in the nutrient-rich waters of the harbor than in cleaner, deeper waters. This suggests that NYC’s “working waterfront” could double as a biological filtration system.
3. The Pioneers: Breaking the Regulatory Barrier
The technology exists, but the permits have been the hard part. The industry is so new that New York State didn’t have a regulatory framework for it until very recently.
In 2023, Violet Cove Oyster Co., led by former WNBA star Susan Wicks, secured the first-ever commercial permit to grow kelp in New York state waters (Moriches Bay). It took years of advocacy to get there. Her success paves the way for oyster farmers across the region to become “multitrophic” farmers—growing shellfish and seaweed together to maximize the environmental benefit.
The Vision for a “Blue” NYC
Organizations like GreenWave are already training the next generation of ocean farmers, with a goal of creating thousands of jobs. Imagine a future where the New York harbor isn’t just a transit lane for ferries and cargo, but a grid of regenerative farms.
These farms would provide local food, sustainable fertilizer, and bioplastics, all while cleaning the water and capturing carbon.
California’s underwater forests are a reminder of nature’s resilience. NYC’s underwater farms could be a testament to our innovation. The seeds (or rather, the spores) have been planted. Now, we just need to support the regulations and organizations that will let them grow.
Christa Avampato 