How 12,000 Tonnes of Dumped Orange Peel Grew Into a Landscape Nobody Expected to Find by Peter Dockrill.
Post-Panic Attack by Ashe Vernon via
minoanmiss. This short poem reminds me of a longer one about what to do when you're depressed, "take a rest, put your beehives in another room" but I can't find it again even to check if it's the same author. Anyone remember that one?
ETA: Found it! Questions to Ask Yourself Before Giving Up by Kaitlyn Boulding
Seeing in the Dark: A secular sermon on race, grief, accountability, and change. by Breai Mason-Campbell, with wonderful illustrations by NoelleRx via
jesse_the_k.
An experimental conservation project that was abandoned and almost forgotten about, has ended up producing an amazing ecological win nearly two decades after it was dreamt up.
The plan, which saw a juice company dump 1,000 truckloads of waste orange peel in a barren pasture in Costa Rica back in the mid 1990s, has eventually revitalised the desolate site into a thriving, lush forest.
Post-Panic Attack by Ashe Vernon via
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ETA: Found it! Questions to Ask Yourself Before Giving Up by Kaitlyn Boulding
Seeing in the Dark: A secular sermon on race, grief, accountability, and change. by Breai Mason-Campbell, with wonderful illustrations by NoelleRx via
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The willful and deliberate destruction of Covid-19 has been like smelling salts for the soul, quickening even the most apathetic Whiteness. From this threadbare place, their hearts and spirits were finally vulnerable enough to feel the pain of police brutality rather than again being passive if uncomfortable voyeurs. This was a breaking point where a demand would be made for a change to the law.
But then, the political machine gave Nice White Folks a reassuring pat on the back, and let them know they needn’t continue making such a fuss: Joe Biden. They were no longer party to the raging, facist, and overtly bigoted morality whose rising to the surface of our national identity, launched them into an existential crisis. Science would prevail, Corona would be dealt with — an immobilizing blizzard of fears and worries was melting in the light of a new day.