SURGE: The Lowcountry Climate Magazine, Issue 10

Page 1


editorial staff

Belvin Olasov Co-Editor in Chief

Belvin Olasov is the co-founder and director of the Charleston Climate Coalition. His background is in creative writing and he believes in bringing vision-making and art to climate work.

Sydney Bollinger Co-Editor in Chief

Sydney Bollinger (she/her) is a writer and editor affiliated with Surge and The Changing Times. She aims to connect communities to climate action through narrative and collaborative storytelling. Find her online @sydboll.

Blake Suárez Contributing Designer

Blake Fili Suárez is a graphic designer with a focus on branding and illustration. He is a cofounder of The Marsh Project and he works out of a room that looks out on a little meadow he is planting with his kids.

Ester Aurajo Featured Artist

You’ll find artist Ester Aurajo’s work throughout this issue! Find more of her work at esteraraujo. com or @esteraraujo on Instagram.

Cover Art by Ester Aurajo - “Tapestry”

Gouache, colored pencil, acrylic paint on paper

Ester Araujo is a multidisciplinary artist currently based in the Charleston area of South Carolina.The methods she uses to execute ideas are heavily influenced by nature, textile processes, and animated films. Araujo’s work explores connections between rhythms in nature and mark making.

“I am endlessly inspired by the beauty of the Lowcountry, yet I am also consumed by fear and anxiety over the threats of overdevelopment and corporate greed, which threaten precious habitats and degrade the health of our communities. In the work Tapestry I weave and piece together contrasting images of the Lowcountry that illustrate how a multitude of feelings including rage, anxiety and hope can exist at the same time. This work was created during my residency at the Park Circle Community Building in North Charleston.”

REGENERATION

Poetry

Columnated Ruins Domino (Surf’s Up)

The pegasus flies riderless over the streets of Athens.

The hurtsong of the commons hums of toothless gnashing turns temples into boneyards strips oracles of wrappings dancing to the tempest tune stomping on their prophecies praying to what yawns below titanic hunger’s heresies.

The winds of Ares rip apart all remnants of old sanctity.

A toyshop burns its marionettes.

A king is lost in fantasy.

An aqueduct runs heaven-high.

A tiler lays a bed of thorns.

A hunter wets his bow with honey.

A coliseum hosts a storm.

Please, O Zeus, our prayer is love.

Haikus for Spring Equinox by Tyquan Morton

The sky became fire before the Spring equinox This is typical

The heat makes us mad We wrap our teeth with silvers smile and blind the sun

My hands are bleeding Squeezing the sap from pine cones summer made them sweet

Standing in the sun a beautiful decision with my ancestors.

Pollinator Gardening with

Johnson, Native Plants to

the People!

Let’s begin with a few of my favorite long-blooming newbie-friendly native plants, all of which can be planted in pots or mixed into a vegetable or flower garden!

Scarlet Sage* (Salvia coccinea)

Attracts & feeds hummingbirds, butterflies, & more.

Blanket Flower* (Gaillardia pulchella)

Abundant & colorful (red + orange + yellow) blooms from May to December, providing pollen & nectar to bees & small butterflies.

Anise Hyssop* (Agastache foeniculum)

Striking spikes of purple flowers in late spring through early summer, & a favorite of bumble bees (which buzz pollinate tomatoes & peppers).

*Annual (killed by frost, but makes LOTS of flowers before then!)

Large-flowered Coreopsis (Coreopsis grandiflora)

Cheerful yellow blooms esp. beloved by our native furrow bees with disease-free evergreen foliage!

Clustered Mountain Mint

If you want to support the nectar needs of as many species of pollinators as possible with only one plant, THIS is your plant!

• I’ve photographed 70 species of pollinators in my James Island mountain mint patch!

• Blooms from June through August – the flowers are small but numerous, & accented nicely by silvery bracts

SHARLEEN JOHNSON HIDING BEHIND BLANKET FLOWER (NOT TO SCALE)

• Resistant to deer thanks to the essential oils in its stems & leaves

• This IS a mint, so should be planted separately from “well-behaved” plants

Interested in feeding the larval stages of pollinators in addition to adults? (Please say yes!)

Asters & Goldenrods are two of the best groups of native plants for feeding butterfly & moth caterpillars as well as the tucked-away larvae of pollen-specialist native bees.

& by feeding caterpillars you’ll also be feeding baby songbirds!

Amazing Asters

Aromatic Aster (Symphyotrichum oblongifolium; for dry, sandy soils) & Smooth Blue Aster (Symphyotrichum laeve; for moist but well-drained soils) – both produce an explosion of blue blooms in fall

Glorious Goldenrods

Seaside Goldenrod (Solidago sempervirens; the tallest; can “Chelsea chop” the top half off in July), Anise-scented Goldenrod (Solidago odora), Showy Goldenrod (Solidago speciosa)

Looking to grow some attractive flowers and feed some pollinators, but only have 3-4 hours of sunlight? Here are some great options!

Golden Groundsel

(Packera aurea)

Early spring bloomer, evergreen foliage, spreads by seed – you won’t need non-native dandelions if you have these!

Foxglove Beardtongue

(Penstemon digitalis)

Mid-spring bloomer, favorite of bumble bees, evergreen basal rosette, well-behaved clumper

Stokes’ Aster

(Stokesia laevis)

Early summer bloomer, its giant purple fuzzy flowers draw in small bees & butterflies, tidy evergreen basal rosette the rest of the year

Brown-eyed Susan

(Rudbeckia triloba)

Late summer bloomer, with a fun upright form & sturdy blooms –makes a good cut flower after the pollinators stop visiting

How to Start

1. Find a sunny spot

& fill a pot with good drainage with high quality potting soil OR find space in an existing garden bed OR dig up grass & weeds to create a new garden bed.

2. Find native plants!

Local sources include Roots & Shoots Nursery in West Ashley, Native Plants to the People’s online shop, & events like the Lowcountry SC Native Plant Society’s Spring Native Plant Market (4/19 in Mt. Pleasant) or Old Santee Canal Park’s Native Plant Festival at Old Santee Canal Park (5/10 in Moncks Corner) – show up early for the best selection!

3. Plant your plants!

It often helps to add compost to ease the transition from a pampered potted plant to the real world.

One

Final Consideration

It’s very important to minimize pesticide use in & around your pollinator garden! Many pesticides designed to kill “pests” unfortunately ALSO kill pollinators. That includes pesticides both organic & inorganic used to kill mosquitoes.

Interested in controlling mosquitoes WITHOUT harming your pollinators? Look up Professor Doug Tallamy’s “Bucket of Doom” method!

4. Water for a few weeks to help roots become established.

In-ground natives, IF planted in moisture/sunlight conditions that match their natural needs, often become independent within a month. ANY plant in a pot is going to need frequent watering, especially in summer. Larger pots require less frequent watering.

5. Mulching o ers numerous benefits:

Prevents weed seed germination, helps water sink into the soil & keeps soil moist longer, creates habitat for cute critters like skinks as well as insects that feed birds, & breaks down into plant food. My favorite mulches for native plants are pine straw or local leaf litter.

The Revolution Will Be Weatherized

Low income weatherization is one of the most concrete manifestations of climate action, of repairing the world, mending injustices, and guarding against worsening weather events. By coming into homes and bringing key repairs and improvements, weatherization work brings down energy usage, drastically reduces energy bills, makes the house more resilient to weather events, reduces climate pollution — and helps folks stay in their homes.

Take Evina Milligan, an Edisto resident who recently had her home weatherized by nonprofit The Sustainability Institute thanks to the Charleston County Critical Home Repair Program. She moved into her home in 1970 after her husband passed. It was there she raised her three children — but it was never a well insulated home.

“My daughter always told me there was a draft and had to put a towel by the door,” Milligan said.

Milligan was paying monthly energy bills of $400 to $600, unsustainable sums that required her children to help support her.

“Encountering extremely high energy bills is, unfortunately, all too common in my work,” said Mitch Houck, Director of Building Performance & Weatherization with the Sustainabiity Institute. “About 30 percent of the homes we assess are dealing with severe energy burdens. It’s heartbreaking to see families forced to make impossible choices between paying for utilities or other essentials.”

So what exactly did the Sustainability Institute do? Well, they: added attic

insulation; reduced air infiltration by 44%, fixing draftiness; installed three energy efficient windows, replacing three broken ones; installed a new bath fan, fixing bathroom humidity issues; installed a highly energy efficient Heat Pump HVAC system, which replaced an old malfunctioning unit; installed a programmable thermostat; and replaced old inefficient lighting with LED and CFL light bulbs.

“Knowing that our work can transform someone’s daily life by making their home safer, healthier, and more affordable gives me a profound sense of purpose,” Houck said.

The County weatherization program came from federal funding, but as environmental justice programming comes under fire, new local funding streams will be necessary to keep critical home repair and home weatherization programs running. According to a University of North Carolina Environmental Finance Center analysis, there were tens of thousands of homes in the Lowcountry with “high demand” for energy efficiency upgrades in 2011, and that number has likely increased since then.

For Milligan, the weatherization was a clear success. Instead of hot summers, cold winters, and sky-high energy bills, Milligan enjoys every room of the house. Her energy bills are down to $100 to $125 a month. She and her children are finally comfortable.

©JOSHUA PARKS
©JOSHUA PARKS
Evina Milligan in front of her Edisto home.
Sustainability Institute’s Mitch Houck at work.

SB: I’ve heard folks say that community is so important. How does investing in our local community, especially now, make us more resilient?

JR: I think it helps to not only know but feel that we are not alone and we’re not the only ones. When we’re in communities that care about the Earth and that care about matters of justice, democracy, and equality, [these] things we are struggling for, it helps not to be so alone.

Intellectually, we understand that there are others out there working on the same things, or you can read essays or political theory and others are thinking those things, but to be together with others is to feel that, to experience that sense of belonging. But, there’s also some strength in it when we realize it’s not only up to me. There are others who will join.

SB: How can we meet the moment in terms of ecological justice? This is broad, but I think very relevant to Charleston given our coastal ecosystem, rising waters, and again, how uncertain the future is.

JR: I think this prompts an unexpected response, but I think one of the ways we can meet the moment more fully is to really tell the truth about what’s happening. I’m concerned that we don’t tell the truth as a whole community about what it means to have this old, historic city on this peninsula surrounded by tidal rivers where the sea is rising.

It’s very impermanent, to use a Buddhist term. Nobody talks about it, but I’ve lived here for thirteen years and I know how much more it floods than it used to. And so do you, I bet. Everybody knows, but I don’t feel we’re being entirely honest.

SB: Climate justice really encompasses most other issues of justice. What happens when we look through this lens of ecological justice to seek justice for all people, communities, and living beings?

JR: Making those connections is so important in our thinking and in our living.

It seems to me like so much of what we’re talking about is bodies in relationship, whether it’s the way we relate to the body of the earth, like the living beings, or whether it’s the ways we relate to each other and whether those relationships are healthy or reciprocal. What is the quality of those relationships? Are they exploitative relationships or oppressive relations? I think if we are prepared to treat the earth as an object, or animals and plants [as objects], then we can quickly do that to each other, too…

Shouldn’t you and I treat each other with dignity and respect? Shouldn’t the law treat us that way? Shouldn’t we treat the red-shouldered hawk who lives on my block that way?

In our house we’ll say, “the universe works really hard to make that” or “the earth works really hard.” It’s just so unlikely that we should be here or that the hawk should be, and I fall silent before that mystery. I’m not able to put a name on it or put it into words, but I do revere it.

I was reading about what the EPA is doing right now [and] I just think there’s no love in it for the earth. There’s no love for other people. There’s no reverence. There’s no sense of wonder. There’s nothing there. It’s got no soul, no love.

For reasons I honestly don’t understand, these things have become political but they don’t need to be.

Without getting too philosophical, I think it’s an aversion to our own mortality. You and I and the City of Charleston are ultimately mortal. Things are impermanent and within the natural world that’s a given. We exist within the natural world but we think and act otherwise. It’d probably be healthier for us if there was something a little more congruent in our thinking.

SB: Based on what you’ve said, I’m gathering that meeting the moment, in some part, is reframing our existence from that of a single person to be that we are part of this entire world that exists and how we can transform our relationships not only to one another, but to all living things.

SHOW you give a damn

JR: Don’t you think some of that has to do with celebrating our great diversity? Diversity has become politicized too, but I don’t care. That’s a beautiful word.

I think of Darwin’s description of the Tangled Bank. I think of how things adapt and co-evolved and these interrelations, as Thích Nhất Hạnh would say.

It is really breathtaking, the way things exist.

On grounding ourselves in love, meeting the current moment, and the great mystery of it all

An interview with Reverend Dr. Jeremy Rutledge

It sounds cliched at this point, but we’re in unprecedented times, vining our way further into this territory day after day. Even with the dawn of spring in Charleston, I still feel some residual darkness; coping with the destruction of institutions that protect us and our Earth is hard. Having hope is hard.

When Belvin and I talked about our vision for this issue — regeneration — we realized we also needed to touch on the regeneration of our spirits to meet the current moment with energy, passion, and ecological justice. We remembered a story in our first issue, “Faith and Climate with Reverend Rutledge,” and knew we needed to interview him for Surge’s tenth issue.

Full interview text available at surgechs.com.

Sydney Bollinger: We’re in a moment where many people are losing hope or don’t necessarily know what to do with the intense feelings they might be having. What keeps you going and gives you hope in times of uncertainty?

Jeremy Rutledge: I’ll count myself as one of those people who isn’t always sure how to adopt a posture of hope [because] I think that has been confused with unfounded optimism in my mind. I honestly don’t always know how to be hopeful, but I tend to ground myself in the people and places I love and work from that place.

What helps me the most is to ground myself in the people I love most and in the natural place where we live, the beings that I love, the place that I love and to work out of love for those things, those people. I adopted a mantra in November, and it came out in my writing. Then, I started saying it: “I don’t have time for cynicism or despair because there are children here.”

As a minister, I look at our children — and I’m a parent. I look at my own son and that’s all I need to keep going, which doesn’t discount how unbearably difficult it is. I’ve not known a more difficult time in my life for this country. I’m extremely worried and I’m around others who are again worried in the extreme but I look at our children and think, “count me in.”

SB: What you just said reminds of a climate grief group I was involved in. One of the things we did to help us think about how to move forward was to think about what we’re leaving for future generations. As someone who doesn’t have children, I still connect to that because I do want a good future for whoever is on this earth after us.

JR: The grief part you mentioned, that’s part of what I was getting at. I don’t understand hope because, again, I associate it with optimism for me or some forwardlooking possibility that things will be better. I don’t know if they will…I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I know who and what I love. And that’s maybe part of our willingness to be honest about our grief and sadness. It’s important to commiserate, to lament, to grieve, but also do the best we can to reframe things and do what we can do.

SB: I’ve heard folks say that community is so important. How does investing in our local community, especially now, make us more resilient?

JR: I think it helps to not only know but feel that we are not alone and we’re not the only ones. When we’re in communities that care about the Earth and that care about matters of justice, democracy, and equality, [these] things we are struggling for, it helps not to be so alone.

Intellectually, we understand that there are others out there working on the same things, or you can read essays or political theory and others are thinking those things, but to be together with others is to feel that, to experience that sense of belonging. But, there’s also some strength in it when we realize it’s not only up to me. There are others who will join.

SB: How can we meet the moment in terms of ecological justice? This is broad, but I think very relevant to Charleston given our coastal ecosystem, rising waters, and again, how uncertain the future is.

JR: I think this prompts an unexpected response, but I think one of the ways we can meet the moment more fully is to really tell the truth about what’s happening. I’m concerned that we don’t tell the truth as a whole community about what it means to have this old, historic city on this peninsula surrounded by tidal rivers where the sea is rising.

It’s very impermanent, to use a Buddhist term. Nobody talks about it, but I’ve lived here for thirteen years and I know how much more it floods than it used to. And so do you, I bet. Everybody knows, but I don’t feel we’re being entirely honest.

For reasons I honestly don’t understand, these things have become political but they don’t need to be.

Without getting too philosophical, I think it’s an aversion to our own mortality. You and I and the City of Charleston are ultimately mortal. Things are impermanent and within the natural world that’s a given. We exist within the natural world but we think and act otherwise. It’d probably be healthier for us if there was something a little more congruent in our thinking.

SB: Climate justice really encompasses most other issues of justice. What happens when we look through this lens of ecological justice to seek justice for all people, communities, and living beings?

JR: Making those connections is so important in our thinking and in our living.

It seems to me like so much of what we’re talking about is bodies in relationship, whether it’s the way we relate to the body of the earth, like the living beings, or whether it’s the ways we relate to each other and whether those relationships are healthy or reciprocal. What is the quality of those relationships? Are they exploitative relationships or oppressive relations? I think if we are prepared to treat the earth as an object, or animals and plants [as objects], then we can quickly do that to each other, too…

Shouldn’t you and I treat each other with dignity and respect? Shouldn’t the law treat us that way? Shouldn’t we treat the red-shouldered hawk who lives on my block that way?

In our house we’ll say, “the universe works really hard to make that” or “the earth works really hard.” It’s just so unlikely that we should be here or that the hawk should be, and I fall silent before that mystery. I’m not able to put a name on it or put it into words, but I do revere it.

I was reading about what the EPA is doing right now [and] I just think there’s no love in it for the earth. There’s no love for other people. There’s no reverence. There’s no sense of wonder. There’s nothing there. It’s got no soul, no love.

SB: Based on what you’ve said, I’m gathering that meeting the moment, in some part, is reframing our existence from that of a single person to be that we are part of this entire world that exists and how we can transform our relationships not only to one another, but to all living things.

JR: Don’t you think some of that has to do with celebrating our great diversity? Diversity has become politicized too, but I don’t care. That’s a beautiful word.

I think of Darwin’s description of the Tangled Bank. I think of how things adapt and co-evolved and these interrelations, as Thích Nhất Hạnh would say.

It is really breathtaking, the way things exist.

the inner work

The co-founder of grassroots activation organization Be The Ones and the yogi holding court every Sunday morning at the Pour House’s massive yoga classes shares her call to action for meeting the present moment.

After 30 years of community organizing in many capacities, I’ve learned the importance of unpacking, processing, and healing the shadows within. These shadows are deeply intertwined with the darkness we are all working to uncover collectively.

Early in my activism journey, I overlooked the need to heal from within. I believed that by dedicating myself fully to justice and advocacy, I could conquer the shadows that kept my selftransformation at a distance. But this approach only left me burnt out, bitter, and ultimately caused more harm to myself and others.

It wasn’t until I found myself on a worn yoga mat in a dim, neglected gym room that I realized the core of the change I sought to create was rooted within the beautifully flawed ecosystem of me. I began showing up for myself with the same commitment I had for community organizing. This commitment was forged through a deep practice of movement, meditation, talk therapy, embracing relational conflict, sobriety, and relentless questioning.

Collectively, we are being called to meet this pivotal moment in history with accountability, courage, empathy, honesty, and action.

To answer the call for justice and sustainability, we must be willing to do the work of transformation within ourselves.

The seductive manipulation of greed and power is something no one is immune to. To build a movement that heals this, we must be willing to dismantle the same structures that exist within us. If we don’t heed this call, we risk creating movements that mirror the very systems we are trying to reimagine.

Humans are inherently beautifully flawed. Acknowledging this breaks through the illusion of perfection, making space for growth. When we meet people where they are and let go of the need to “police” others, the movement toward social and planetary justice will swell, modeling the change we wish to see.

As I continue my work in activism and organizing, I challenge myself with the same questions I ask of those in power:

As we demand accountability from systems that prioritize profit over people and the planet, how can we model accountability by listening without becoming defensive? When shame creeps in, can we process our emotions instead of gaslighting those asking us to grow through repair?

As we demand courage from the leaders we’ve elected to represent us, how can we demonstrate courage in critical conversations and moments of conflict? Can we act in alignment with our true values, even under pressure?

As we demand empathy from those not directly impacted by the consequences of dominant culture, how can we foster understanding and connection with people who have different solutions to justice than our own? Can we treat ourselves with the same kindness, understanding, and compassion we ask of others?

As we demand honesty from the media by calling out disinformation, how can we practice the art of consuming knowledge? Can we broaden our quest for wisdom by asking deeper questions through curiosity? Can we be honest with ourselves, interrogating both unconscious and conscious motives and biases?

As we demand action from all corners of the world, knowing words are meaningless without progress, how can we use integrity as a moral compass? Can we stay true to our values even when no one is watching?

Can we practice and model the world we want to live in? As Audre Lorde said, “The master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house.” Can we create the world we envision, grounded in the vision of a world we know is possible?

We are all being called to consider our role in a larger ecosystem and reflect on how our inner work can lead to positive change in the world. Transformation must begin within. When we address our own shadows, we contribute to the collective healing of society and this beautiful planet that sustains us.

Your well-being is directly connected to the well-being of this planet. Your well-being is directly connected to every person you encounter.

You being here matters. You matter.

WE NEED YOU.

UPCOMING LOCAL EVENTS

SB: I’ve heard folks say that community is so important. How does investing in our local community, especially now, make us more resilient?

JR: I think it helps to not only know but feel that we are not alone and we’re not the only ones. When we’re in communities that care about the Earth and that care about matters of justice, democracy, and equality, [these] things we are struggling for, it helps not to be so alone.

Intellectually, we understand that there are others out there working on the same things, or you can read essays or political theory and others are thinking those things, but to be together with others is to feel that, to experience that sense of belonging. But, there’s also some strength in it when we realize it’s not only up to me. There are others who will join.

SB: Climate justice really encompasses most other issues of justice. What happens when we look through this lens of ecological justice to seek justice for all people, communities, and living beings?

JR: Making those connections is so important in our thinking and in our living.

It seems to me like so much of what we’re talking about is bodies in relationship, whether it’s the way we relate to the body of the earth, like the living beings, or whether it’s the ways we relate to each other and whether those relationships are healthy or reciprocal. What is the quality of those relationships? Are they exploitative relationships or oppressive relations? I think if we are prepared to treat the earth as an object, or animals and plants [as objects], then we can quickly do that to each other, too…

SB: How can we meet the moment in terms of ecological justice? This is broad, but I think very relevant to Charleston given our coastal ecosystem, rising waters, and again, how uncertain the future is.

JR: I think this prompts an unexpected response, but I think one of the ways we can meet the moment more fully is to really tell the truth about what’s happening. I’m concerned that we don’t tell the truth as a whole community about what it means to have this old, historic city on this peninsula surrounded by tidal rivers where the sea is rising.

It’s very impermanent, to use a Buddhist term. Nobody talks about it, but I’ve lived here for thirteen years and I know how much more it floods than it used to. And so do you, I bet. Everybody knows, but I don’t feel we’re being entirely honest.

SILVER DOLLAR PRESENTS BRIDGE RUN OYSTER ROAST

POST-RUN PARTY AND ALL YOU CAN EAT OYSTERS SAT, APRIL 5 AT 10AM AT SILVER DOLLAR — 478 KING STREET

Shouldn’t you and I treat each other with dignity and respect? Shouldn’t the law treat us that way? Shouldn’t we treat the red-shouldered hawk who lives on my block that way?

In our house we’ll say, “the universe works really hard to make that” or “the earth works really hard.” It’s just so unlikely that we should be here or that the hawk should be, and I fall silent before that mystery. I’m not able to put a name on it or put it into words, but I do revere it.

R-IMBIBE

For reasons I honestly don’t understand, these things have become political but they don’t need to be.

I was reading about what the EPA is doing right now [and] I just think there’s no love in it for the earth. There’s no love for other people. There’s no reverence. There’s no sense of wonder. There’s nothing there. It’s got no soul, no love.

AN EVENING AT STEMS & SKINS WITH THE DROPPING PIN THUR, APRIL 10 AT 7PM AT STEMS & SKINS — 1070 E MONTAGUE AVE

Without getting too philosophical, I think it’s an aversion to our own mortality. You and I and the City of Charleston are ultimately mortal. Things are impermanent and within the natural world that’s a given. We exist within the natural world but we think and act otherwise. It’d probably be healthier for us if there was something a little more congruent in our thinking.

2025 SAT, APRIL 12 FROM 2-6PM IN THE I’ON NEIGHBORHOOD

SB: Based on what you’ve said, I’m gathering that meeting the moment, in some part, is reframing our existence from that of a single person to be that we are part of this entire world that exists and how we can transform our relationships not only to one another, but to all living things.

JR: Don’t you think some of that has to do with celebrating our great diversity? Diversity has become politicized too, but I don’t care. That’s a beautiful word.

I think of Darwin’s description of the Tangled Bank. I think of how things adapt and co-evolved and these interrelations, as Thích Nhất Hạnh would say.

It is really breathtaking, the way things exist.

The Marsh Appreciation & Restoration Society for Happiness Project’s Ecological Corridor

With the support of Mayor Cogswell, Charleston city officials & you!, we are designing our ecological corridor across the peninsula—from Gadsden Creek to Halsey Creek allllll the way to Newmarket Creek. This grassroots effort aims to unite neighborhoods & fragmented habitats with vibrant native plantings, more tree canopy, & restored tidal creeks. We’re hoping to create spaces where our community & wildlife can thrive together, setting a model for urban landscapes across the country.

By joining you are helping us visualize our ecological corridor. This data helps us understand the network of contributors, track progress, & ensure inclusive community involvement in creating a sustainable & interconnected ecosystem.

So...what

is

an Ecological Corridor?

Ecological corridors are strips of “natural land” (A.K.A. native plants & trees) that connect larger conserved spaces, allowing plants, animals, & itty bitty bugs to move freely between them. These corridors are essential to maintaining biodiversity, allowing species to access food, water, & habitat throughout fragmented & developed landscapes.

Our vaunted National Parks aren’t enough— we

1. LOVE YOUR LOCAL NATURE

Whether in your yard or around your neighborhood—think of this as your “Homegrown National Park,” à la Prof. Doug Tallamy. Nature is everywhere & we are nature, let’s act accordingly.

2. PLANT NATIVE SPECIES—TREES, SHRUBS, GRASSES, & FLOWERS—IN YOUR YARD

Native plants provide valuable habitat to support our pollinators & birds, particularly the native-plant-eating caterpillars that songbirds depend on to feed their chicks. The goal is to transform 70ish% of our yards to native plants!

3. REPLACE NON–NATIVE PLANT SPECIES

— especially ecologically invasive plants — in your yard with native plants.

4. REDUCE OR ELIMINATE THE USE OF HARFMUL CHEMICALS

— especially pesticides & herbicides — in your beautiful yard. These run directly into the marsh during a big rain event!

5. SLOW RAINWATER

that falls on your propertY & help it sink into the soilby adding rain gardens, aerating the soil, mulching under trees & shrubs, & replacing your paved areas with gravel. The goal is to keep the water that falls on your property on your property. This helps reduce flooding & protects water quality for shorebirds, fishies, & other marine life.

6. KEEP YOUR PROPERTY TRASH FREE & HELP SWEEP THE NEIGHBORHOOD

If we keep our neighborhoods trash-free, people are less likely to litter! A productive cycle of positive reinforcement.:)

7. COMPOST FOOD SCRAPS & USE THEM TO ENRICH YOUR SOIL

8. SUPPORT COMMUNITY & CITY EFFORTS TO CREATE MORE ACCESS TO NATURE

We are surrounded by salt marsh & water, but access to our creeks & rivers is limited. We need more pocket parks & greenspaces to connect our community to our beautiful waterways!

9. TURN OFF YOUR OUTDOOR LIGHTS

Turn off lights at night, or use motion sensors or yellow bulbs, which are less likely to attract nocturnal bugs & distract nocturnal/migrating birds.

10. SHARE WITH YOUR FRIENDS & NEIGHBORS

Share what you learn & encourage them to become Eco-Corridor Members, too! Corridors are all about connectivity, so let's spread the love.

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Create a flipbook
Issuu converts static files into: digital portfolios, online yearbooks, online catalogs, digital photo albums and more. Sign up and create your flipbook.