Connecticut Woodlands Winter 2025, The Story of Snow
Land Acknowledgment Statement
CFPA acknowledges we are on the traditional lands of the Mashantucket Pequot Tribal Nation, the Mohegans, the Eastern Pequot, Schaghticoke, Golden Hill Paugussett, Nipmuc, and Niantic peoples. We pay our respect to the Indigenous people who are no longer here due to colonization, forced relocation, disease, and warfare. We thank them for stewarding this land throughout generations. We recognize the continued presence of Indigenous people on this territory who have survived attempted genocide, and who still hold ties to the land spiritually and culturally. We shall be good stewards of the land we all call Quinnentucket, Connecticut.
CONTRIBUTOR’S
Spotlight
Erica Cirino has sailed across the Atlantic, visited the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, and talked to countless scientists and others across the globe to research the plastic crisis. In 2021, she published her first book, “Thicker Than Water: The Quest for Solutions to the Plastic Crisis,” and she currently serves as communications manager for Plastic Pollution Coalition. We spoke with Cirino to learn more about this complex problem, and what can be done to solve it.
What inspired you to research the plastic crisis?
As a teenager into my early 20s, I worked at a wildlife hospital on Long Island. Over the years I noticed plastic’s increasing accumulation in the Sound’s waters and shores, and on and inside of the bodies of my “patients.” I participated in many beach cleanups only to see the plastic continue to accumulate. And so, I first came to understand plastic pollution as a problem of “litter” contaminating the marine environment. But as I dug into the issue, I learned
that the marine environment is simply the canary in the coal mine: plastic pollution is in fact a whole-world issue.
What is something you were surprised to learn?
Today it’s better known that microplastic is everywhere, but the full extent of the problem was just beginning to be uncovered while I was researching plastic pollution over the last decade. I was surprised to learn just how deeply it has embedded itself in our Earth and our bodies. Plastic is literally a part of the Earth now and reflected in the geological record.
What role can art play in helping to address this crisis? We often consume plastic mindlessly, it’s everywhere, so ubiquitous and normalized it’s almost invisible. I like to take photos that show how plastic is changing our planet. I also enjoy creating multimedia collages from watercolor and microplastic that illustrate plastic’s impacts on our environment and bodies. There’s a shock factor to showing microplastic in places it doesn’t belong. My work conveys truth, while calling on viewers to consider how they feel about the truth, hopefully prompting them to take action.
Timothy Brown
On the cover: Snowflakes are one of the most mysterious and magical phenomena in all of nature. Learn more about the story of snow in our story on page 8.
This issue can feel overwhelming. Where do you find hope and inspiration?
As a new parent, I worry about how my child will navigate this and other environmental, health, and social challenges. But I’ve learned by eliminating plastic from my own life that solutions do exist, and they can be accessible and simple. Making change first in your life, then in your community, and then in the wider world can be a more manageable and encouraging way to shift the system. After all, we cannot be the change we need unless we develop the values and behaviors that will help us not only start but also maintain that change.
Ask most people and they’ll quickly tell you that snow is white. For centuries, people have waxed poetic about white snow, assigning to it all sorts of virtues, like purity and renewal. But perceptions can be deceiving. Snow, it turns out, isn’t white at all; it’s translucent, reflecting light waves to appear white to our eyes. And, despite its clean reputation, snow is far from “pure.” As Erica Cirino reports in this issue, microplastics have infiltrated every corner of the planet, from the middle of the Pacific Ocean to the highest mountain tops and everywhere in between, including in our snow.
Science can help to unmask our perceptions, and scientists have developed a host of instruments to aid our sensorial perception—from photographing individual snow crystals to measuring microplastics in the environment. But scientists, like all people, are susceptible to their own limited perception—not to mention implicit bias—which is why science is such a rigorous process and public form of inquiry.
Recently I’ve been thinking a lot about the relationship between perception and belief, and how all too often we trust our perceptions to give us the full picture, when, in fact, what we perceive to be true or real may be completely wrong. It is often said that seeing is believing, but the opposite is also true: believing is seeing. In other words, we see what we believe. This not only applies to our perceptions of the natural world, but to our social lives as well.
In this time when disinformation floods our inboxes and social media, we must be willing to question our perceptions and ask the hard question, “Is what I believe actually true?” And when evidence runs counter to cherished beliefs, like hard-nosed scientists, we must be willing to set aside those beliefs and accept the evidence for what it is.
I’ll see you outside,
Timothy Brown Editor
The Connecticut Forest & Park Association, Inc.
The Connecticut Forest & Park Association (CFPA) is a 501c3 nonprofit organization that protects forests, parks and the Blue-Blazed Hiking Trails for future generations by connecting people to the land. Since 1895, CFPA has enhanced and defended Connecticut's rich natural heritage through advocacy, conservation, recreation, and education, including maintaining the 825-mile Blue-Blazed Hiking Trail System. CFPA depends on the generous support of members to fulfill its mission. For more information and to donate, go to ctwoodlands.org
Board of Directors
President
Laurie Giannotti, Deep River
Vice-Presidents
Kristin Connell, Killingworth
David Terry, East Hampton
Treasurer
William Cordner, Simsbury
Secretary
Andy Bicking
Forester
Mike Ferrucci, North Branford
Laura Cisneros, Mansfield
Della Corcoran, West Hartford
Beth Critton, West Hartford
Robert Deptula, Ellington
David Ellis, Wallingford
Laurie Giannotti, Deep River
Alan Hurst, Middle Haddam
Seth Huttner, Hartford
Peter Knight, Stonington
Michael Proctor, New Haven
Tom Tella, Wolcott
Marcus Ware, Ellington
Kevin Wilhelm, Berlin
Staff
Andy Bicking
Executive Director
Alex Bradley
Trails Stewardship Coordinator
Clare Cain
Trails Director
Teralyn LaChance
Office Manager
Elizabeth Merow
Education Director
Linda Pierce
Development Director
Meaghan Strange
Development Assistant
Chuck Toal
Trails Day Coordinator
Connecticut Woodlands
Timothy Brown Editor
Margaret Gibson
Poetry Editor
Kolk Design
Graphic Design
Thanks to photo contributions from Timothy Brown, Erica Cirino, Renee Smith and Hanna Vanderloop.
Sustainably printed on FSC certified paper using solar power and LED-UV curable inks, which don’t release harmful VOCs into the atmosphere and can reduce energy consumption by 30% compared to conventional inks.
Connecticut Woodlands is a quarterly magazine published since 1936 by CFPA. The magazine is distributed to members and donors, as well as public libraries and other state and local offices. Advertising local goods or services is welcome. For specifications and rates, visit ctwoodlands.org/rates. To advertise, contact info@ctwoodlands.org or call 860-346-TREE.
THE VIEW FROM THE Canopy
BY ANDY BICKING
At CFPA, we’re committed to strengthening our historic work to tend Connecticut’s forests and parks, manage the Blue-Blazed Hiking Trail System, and create opportunities for everyone to fall in love with nature. We are restoring access to areas damaged by fire and flood in late 2024 and welcoming back our seasonal trail crew; deepening our educational partnerships to reach people of all ages with the award-winning Master Woodlands Manager program; and organizing to ensure your elected officials understand the transformative power of trails, forests, and parks for all to enjoy.
Connecticut’s General Assembly has raised dozens of bills pertaining to the environment. CFPA issued its first Conservation Agenda to policy makers in 1897 and has participated in the legislative process ever since. As our advocate at the state capitol says, “CFPA has been here long before me and will be here long after I’m gone. As long as our forests are in need, it’s here to stay.” Those are powerful words to consider in these times. With that in mind, we’re proud to present CFPA’s 2025 Conservation Agenda.
Passport to the Parks
Buoyed by the General Assembly’s commitment to stabilize funding in 2024, Passport to the Parks provides all Connecticut residents free access to state forests and parks. An accessible park system has many benefits, including promoting public health, community recreation, and related economic development. Yet, every session sees proposals that would divert resources that support the program. We encourage the General Assembly to keep the Passport to the Parks intact so that all Connecticut residents can continue to enjoy and benefit from our forests and parks.
Trails Bonding
According to the State Comprehensive Outdoor Recreation Plan, investments made in the 825-mile Blue-Blazed Hiking Trail System help satisfy interest in the singular most popular land-based outdoor recreation activity in the state: hiking. Public investment in trails also leverages significant volunteer labor—more than 18,000 hours delivered by CFPA volunteers
in 2024 alone—a value in excess of $622,000! Every $528 of public dollars invested in the statutorily recognized Blue-Blazed system helps to maintain one mile of trail. We encourage the General Assembly to issue sufficient bonds to support this work, as well as advance investments in multi-use greenways, infrastructure in state parks, agricultural needs, and open space protection for all communities.
Nature Based Solutions
Last year we saw the devastating impacts of a changing climate in Connecticut. Historic floods damaged parks, forests, and communities in the southwest corner and wildfires ravaged forests in dozens of locations. These threats call for a strong policy to advance forest resilience as envisioned by the Governor’s Council on Climate Change. Preserving forests and marshlands, restoring habitat, mitigating effects on groundwater, and reducing flooding risk are increasingly proving essential for a sustainable future. And they bring many benefits: reducing heat stress; improving air quality; promoting mental health; supporting local wood products, jobs, and economic benefits; sustaining wildlife habitat and more livable communities for people; storing and sequestering carbon; and much more.
State Land Conveyances
Every year there are proposals to convey public lands to private interests. It remains a major concern for CFPA and the environmental community. We will continue to scrutinize proposals for state land conveyances to ensure that the benefits of these public lands are not lost or surrendered to interests that would do them harm.
Thank you, as always, for your continued support and engagement, whether that be on the trail, in the classroom, working in the forest, supporting CFPA financially, or communicating with your elected representatives.
See you on the trail!
Andy Bicking is the Executive Director of CFPA.
Cockaponset Trail
Old County Road to the Pattaconk Reservoir parking lot
By Renee Smith
Ifirst started hiking in the Cockaponset State Forest when I moved to Connecticut in the late 1980s, but it would be at least another two decades before I learned about the Connecticut Forest & Park Association and their work maintaining the Blue-Blazed Hiking Trails. My involvement with CFPA began in a typical way—by becoming a member and making an annual donation. As time went on, I participated in the occasional course and signed up to be a Hike Leader. It was early in the Covid pandemic that I first considered becoming a Trail Manager.
Like many others, I was spending as much time as possible in the woods decompressing from all the craziness. By then, I had learned how to use the “Report a Problem” form on the CFPA website, but by the third report I felt the least I could do was reach out to Clare Cain and offer my assistance. She put me in touch with Rob Butterworth, who at the time was responsible for all 13-plus miles of the Cockaponset Trail. I went through the training to become a Trail Manager, and we agreed that I would maintain a
five-mile section of the trail between Old County Road and the Pattaconk Reservoir parking lot.
My first project was to re-blaze the trail, which quickly became my favorite activity. I enjoyed the challenge of choosing a location that would be both visible and likely to last. (I learned to first look up to make sure I was not nailing a blaze to a dead tree!) Armed with my colorfully decorated hammer, a gift I received early in my career as a home builder, I would set out on the
trail hoping my hammer would spark a conversation with passing hikers. During my second year as a manager, I was fortunate to have CFPA choose my section of the Cockaponset Trail for a relocation project. A section of trail over a stream had become difficult to navigate. I had the chance to participate in the exploratory hikes to map out the new location and to get a feel for all the aspects of planning the project, which included building a bridge and rock work. While the Connecticut Woodlands Conservation Corps did
most of the hard work, I participated in the prep day where we carried all the lumber from the parking area to the bridge site. That gave me a whole new appreciation for the folks who build our trails!
These days I head out to my section of trail every month or two, armed with my hand saw and pruners, clearing small fallen trees, clipping back hanging branches and encroaching brush, and checking the status of the blazes. If I find something too big to handle by myself, such as a large blowdown, I put the call in to Rob and the CFPA staff to help address the problem. While I love to hike new trails, there is something very special about regularly walking the same trail. I certainly enjoy memorizing trail features and seeing them through all the different seasons, but it is more than that; it is the accumulation of memories over time that flood my senses with each step—such as the memory of the snapping turtle who occupied the center of the trail one day, or the tree with the Picasso face that I give a nod to each time I pass. My most memorable trail encounter happened one early August morning. I had gone off trail to photograph a mushroom and, in the process, had startled a doe that ran a short distance away then turned around to look at me. I slowly walked toward the mushroom, knelt down to photograph it, then slowly backed up. I was now standing perfectly still. The deer started to approach me, veering off in the direction of that same mushroom, then stopped behind it. The deer looked me straight in the eye then swiftly dipped her head and gobbled up the mushroom, watching me the whole time. I was stunned. She then calmly walked across the trail in front of me and disappeared into the woods. I relive that encounter every time I walk past this section of trail.
Volunteering as a Trail Manager for CFPA gives me a fuller purpose. I can walk the trails as I normally do, but with an eye towards improving the experience for both myself and fellow hikers. It is a way for me to give back and gain personally at the same time. What could be better than that?
Renee Smith is recently retired from a career as a home builder. In addition to spending time as a Trail Manager on the Cockaponset Trail, she leads the Nature Nerds hikes for CFPA and writes a Trails blog at trailtalk.org
Find the complete map in the Connecticut Walk Book, published by CFPA and Wesleyan University Press.
Out of Thin Air
THE MAGICAL BEAUTY OF SNOWFLAKES
By Laurie D. Morrissey
“How full of the creative genius is the air in which these are generated! I should hardly admire them more if real stars fell and lodged on my coat.”
Henry David Thoreau
On November 22, the first snowflakes of the season landed on the ground at Mohawk Mountain in Goshen. A layer of white lay on oak leaves and evergreen branches. It didn’t amount to much—barely an inch—but Channel 3 Eyewitness News reporter Amanda Callahan managed to show off two tiny snowmen. “It’s the perfect amount of snow for a winter wonderland and gets people in the holiday spirit,” she said.
Snow is one of the most beautiful and magical sights in nature. Just looking at it is fun. For most native New Englanders, the sight of falling snow sends us right back to childhood. When I was growing up in Kent, there was nothing better than a snow day. My brother and I spent hours outside building tunnels and forts and sledding down the nearest steep hill.
But while snow is simply beautiful, it is not simple. The next time you’re outside in a gentle snowfall, stop and look closely at a flake that lands on your coat sleeve. That lacy-looking little flake is actually a collection of dozens, or even hundreds, of ice crystals coming to the end of an eventful journey that began in the clouds. Along the way, its shape likely changed many times depending on the temperature and humidity of the atmosphere through which it passed.
As the crystal moves through different temperatures and humidities, each change causes new growth behavior on the arms. Each arm experiences the same history, so they tend to be symmetrical. But each crystal follows a very different path, so each one is a little different.
Snowflakes have fascinated scientists for centuries, but the path to understanding them became a lot easier after someone figured out how to take pictures of them, essentially stopping time long enough to study the phenomenon. More than a century ago, a Vermont farm boy named Wilson Bentley was more interested in clouds and snow than dairy cows. Working in a cold woodshed, he looked at snowflakes under a microscope attached to a camera. One January day in 1885, at the age of 20, he made history—snow history—when he became the first person to successfully photograph a single snow crystal. He eventually photographed thousands, never finding two the same. The snowflake on your sleeve is not only pretty; it’s unique.
For a tiny thing that arrives out of thin air, a snowflake is pretty complex. The science of snowflakes is a blend of physics, quantum mechanics, and chemistry. Snowflake scholar Kenneth Libbrecht, a physics professor at the California Institute of Technology, studies the molecular dynamics of crystal growth. Libbrecht has authored several books on the subject and served as a consultant to the makers of the movie “Frozen.” He has studied snowflakes for more than 20 years and is still fascinated by the stunning diversity of complex patterned forms.
“I love to go out and look for snowflakes,” he said during a lecture sponsored by the Bruce Museum in Greenwich. “You
can find a lot of weird and wonderful things if you go looking on a regular basis. You can get kind of crazy shapes. Some conditions are fairly common and they produce common-looking snowflakes. Some shapes are exceedingly rare, because they require certain conditions.”
Snow crystals begin forming when warm, moist air collides with a mass of cold air. As air cools, Libbrecht explained, it condenses onto dust particles to make little water droplets. The molecules in the droplets line up in a pattern as they freeze, forming small hexagons.
“These molecules stick together in a hexagonal, or six-sided pattern,” Libbrecht said. “The smooth facets of the hexagon grow more slowly than the corners, which stick out into the air and collect more water vapor. The corners start to form branches, or arms. As the crystal moves through different temperatures and humidities, each change causes new
growth behavior on the arms. Each arm experiences the same history, so they tend to be symmetrical. But each crystal follows a very different path, so each one is a little different.”
Scientists have identified at least 35 common types of snow crystals, from ice needles to capped columns to fernlike stellar dendrites, which are the familiar shapes on holiday wrapping paper and Christmas sweaters. These also make the best powder snow since they are fairly large—as much as five millimeters in diameter—and extremely thin and light. The smallest snowflakes are called diamond dust crystals, which occur in bitter cold weather and sparkle as they blow through the air. The most common snow crystals by far, according to Libbrecht, are irregular crystals: small clumps with little of the symmetry of most other types. Sleet is a different story, and it has few (if any) fans. Sleet occurs when snowflakes melt and refreeze
Types of snowflakes. Chart courtesy of Kenneth Libbrecht.
on their way to the ground as they encounter air layers of different temperatures. When there is a shallow, warm layer of air between two cold layers, the snowflakes that formed in the top cold layer melt in the shallow layer and refreeze in the lower cold layer to form pellets of ice.
In spite of the cliché “as white as snow,” snowflakes are not white at all; they are colorless. The light that hits a snowflake is reflected off its many tiny surfaces and edges, and the scattering of light across the spectrum results in white light.
Much has been discovered about snowflakes, but the facts still are not crystal clear. “We still don’t fully understand why snowflakes look the way they do,” Libbrecht said. “There’s a lot going on, and as we dig deeper, there’s always more to discover.” One of Libbrecht’s ways of digging deeper is to create crystals in the lab under controlled conditions. By doing this, he has created pairs of snowflakes that have the same intricate shapes and patterns, but they are not precisely identical to the last molecule.
For those who love white winters, any snow is better than no snow; but most would say the fluffier the better. The kind of snow we get depends on the temperature and moisture content of the air.
The light that hits a snowflake is reflected off its many tiny surfaces and edges, and the scattering of light across the spectrum results in white light.
As meteorologist (and snowboarder) Steve Glazier of NBC CT explained, Alberta Clippers (storms that come down from Canada) bring light, fluffy snow. At colder temperatures, the air can’t hold as much moisture, making for smaller, lighter snowflakes—great for skiers and snowboarders. Nor’Easters usually bring heavier, wetter, denser snow. Temperatures around 32 degrees result in a wetter, denser snowpack— perfect for making snowballs. “That’s because the snowflakes clump together due to their near-freezing temperature,” Glazier said. “Warmer air also holds more moisture, so these snowflakes tend to have a wetter consistency.”
Without artificial snow, many ski resorts would not survive. Mohawk Mountain, Connecticut’s oldest and largest ski area, was also one of the first to make its own snow. Soon after the area opened in the mid-40s, Walter Schoenknecht collaborated with Tey Manufacturing Company in Milford to develop a machine that would produce snow. Today, most of the snow on the area’s 27 trails is manmade, and what once must have seemed a preposterous idea has become the norm. For most skiers, snow is snow, but experts can tell the difference between real and artificial snow. The real deal contains more air and less water than artificial snow, giving it a lighter feel.
Snowflakes are weird and wonderful and endlessly fascinating, whether you’re skiing, sledding, building snowpeople, tossing snowballs, or just gazing out the window. Wilson Bentley would be surprised to know that an album of his micrographs of snow crystals sold for tens of thousands of dollars at auction. Happily, however, it costs nothing to appreciate these natural gifts from the sky. When the white stuff starts to fall, just step outside in a dark-colored coat and hold out your arm. You might want to bring a magnifying glass.
A complete guide to snowflakes, as well as time-lapse videos of snowflake formation and much more, can be found on Dr. Kenneth Libbrecht’s snowcrystals.com
Laurie D. Morrissey is a New Hampshire-based writer whose work has appeared in Connecticut Woodlands since 2016. She has also been published in Northern Woodlands, Art New England, New Hampshire Home, Appalachia, and numerous poetry journals.
Solving the Global Plastic Crisis
Plastic pollution is harming both human health and ecosystems around the globe. Do we have the courage to end our addiction to plastic?
Words and pictures by
Erica Cirino
“ More than 10 billion metric tons of plastic have been made since it was invented in 1907. All of it is still with us today.”
Erica Cirino
On deck, I’m three hours into the 4 a.m. to 8 a.m. shift when darkness is finally broken by a sliver of golden light. As the subtropical sun crests the horizon, a landscape split in two is revealed. The world here is sky and water.
But there’s something else, something unnatural, something that doesn’t belong that’s embedded itself in this place. I am starting to see it everywhere: plastic. There’s a pink dustpan; a fragment of an orange fish crate; white foam packaging; a green shampoo bottle; a massive tangle of colorful fishing nets, traps, and ropes; and many more items. They are easy to see, cruising by on gently cresting waves.
It’s an early morning in November 2016, and I am sailing with a crew of scientists and sailors into the remote Great Pacific Garbage Patch, one of the most notoriously plastic-polluted places on Earth. Plastic is concentrated here by a major clockwise-swirling current called the North Pacific Gyre. Our crew scoops plastic items out of the sea and onto the deck, away from dolphins, turtles, whales, and other marine creatures who are all too often entangled or choked by plastic things.
This mission’s purpose is not to clean up the ocean—that would be impossible. Our crew is here to understand and document the scale of a hitherto lesser-known kind of plastic pollution: particles called microplastics and nanoplastics, which, we learn, are filling the ocean, killing marine creatures, and changing the chemistry of the sea. Just a few years later it will become clear to these researchers—and the wider world—that the ocean was just the canary in the coal mine. Indeed, the entire Earth, and every living creature, is drowning in plastic.
Plastic pollution is a whole-world problem
Today we know plastic pollution is not just an ocean problem. Plastic stuff does not biodegrade like natural materials such as plant matter or stone, which usefully reincorporate into the earth. Instead, it breaks up into smaller pieces that remain forever plastic. Each of these particles may contain any mixture of the more than 16,000 chemicals added to plastics, more than 4,000 of which are already known to harm people and the environment.
More than 10 billion metric tons of plastic have been made since conventional, fossil-fuel-based plastic was invented in 1907. All of it is still with us today. A significant share of this plastic has entered the ocean; after all, the ocean covers 71 percent of Earth’s surface. But plastics have also been found in the air, atmosphere, fresh waters, plants, precipitation, soils—even outer space—and perhaps most shocking, in animals, including inside of our human bodies.
Plastic pollution includes but doesn’t end with plastic. It actually encompasses an enormous range of materials and processes. Plastic’s production, shipping, use, and disposal emit climate-warming greenhouse gases, as well as harmful chemicals and plastic particles. As a photojournalist, I have traced the plastic pipeline from its sinks back to its sources, visiting illegal dumps, incinerators, landfills, recycling collection and sorting facilities, shipping warehouses, highways, ports, train tracks, plastic factories, fossil fuel refineries, and gas and oil wells—as well as the ecosystems and communities that have been desecrated by the fossil fuel, petrochemical, and plastics industries. Black, Indigenous, and People of Color, and poor and rural communities are disproportionately targeted for such industrial activities and infrastructure, which expose residents to extreme air, soil, and water pollution that cause serious health problems and perpetuate environmental and social injustices.
All of plastic’s pollution is linked to myriad health problems, especially in young people and pregnant people whose changing bodies are more vulnerable to such health hazards. Plastic causes harm physically, such as when it builds up in the arteries to increase risk of heart attack, stroke, and death. Yet it also creates a chemical danger. Many plastic ingredients, including strengthening bisphenols, flame retardants, nonstick PFAS chemicals, flexibility-enhancing phthalates, and other additives are known to interfere with human hormones and cause cancer, infertility, obesity, and other serious health problems. We are exposed when we
Microplastic wave at Kamilo Point on the Big Island of Hawaii.
“ Here in Connecticut, many people, businesses, and communities are already making the changes we need.”
Erica Cirino
eat, drink, breathe, and absorb these chemicals through our skin. Health problems caused by plastic chemicals are estimated to have cost the U.S. healthcare system hundreds of billions of dollars.
A global agreement to end plastic pollution
Recently, representatives from more than 170 U.N. member states met in Busan, Republic of Korea, to finalize the U.N. Plastics Treaty, a global agreement in development since 2022 intended to address the “full life cycle” of plastic pollution—that is, plastic and its toxic effects from production to disposal. However, negotiators failed to agree on how to reduce plastic pollution and instead vowed to continue developing the treaty next year.
An effective treaty will mandate strict caps on plastic and petrochemical production, regulate toxic chemicals, and establish equitable financial resources to support disproportionately affected Global South nations to cope with plastic pollution. The alternative is a weak, voluntary national commitment to reduce plastic production—an approach favored by the fossil fuel, petrochemical, and plastic corporations, and those nations with strong financial interests in these industries. For comparison, the Paris
Cirino creates multimedia collages that illustrate plastic's impacts on our environment and bodies. Watercolor and microplastic collected by the Hawaii Wildlife Fund at Kamilo Point.
Six simple, accessible, and cost-effective ways to eliminate plastic from your life:
Buy foods without plastic packaging whenever possible (e.g., loose fruits and vegetables, flour in paper bags, peanut butter in glass jars).
Carry out your beverages from home in a reusable ceramic, glass, or stainless steel bottle or thermos.
Cook at home when you can instead of getting takeout or eating out.
Keep reusable cloth bags (including small produce-sized bags) in your backpack or vehicle.
Reuse glass jars for leftovers instead of plastic containers.
Search for plastic-free clothes made from cotton, linen, wool, and other natural fibers in secondhand or thrift shops. Avoid clothes made from plastic (labels with polyester, nylon, acrylic, spandex—also called Lycra or elastane, fleece, or polyolefin).
Agreement has been criticized for its lack of teeth in tackling the urgent climate crisis because it allows each nation to voluntarily set limits on carbon emissions rather than require a coordinated reining in of global emissions.
Most nations support a strong plastics treaty. In Busan, more than 120 countries advocated for a robustly implemented treaty; over 100 nations endorsed Panama’s proposal to reduce plastic production, and 95 supported legally binding targets to regulate hazardous plastic chemicals. Many observers of the talks, including Indigenous groups and scientists, urged delegates to craft a strong treaty and reject a weak, voluntary agreement. Meanwhile, at least 220 fossil fuel, petrochemical, and plastic industry lobbyists attended the talks, with 17 of those lobbyists participating directly in national delegations, which is seen by experts as a major conflict of interest.
While the earliest plastic items, like plastic bowls, combs, and jewelry, were initially marketed as luxuries, cheap single-use plastic consumer items advertised as convenience goods were rapidly mass-produced following World War II. In 1950, about 2 million metric tons of plastic were manufactured. Since then, plastic production has skyrocketed, increasing by more than 18,300 percent over the past 65 years. Today, more than 400 million metric tons of plastic are made each year. Without urgent global action to mandate significant reduction of plastic production, corporations are on track to at least triple that amount by 2060, adding more than a billion metric tons of plastic pollution per year to Earth’s already too-heavy plastic load.
If you think plastic recycling might help, consider the fact that globally less than 9 percent of plastic has been recycled. In fact, recycling only perpetuates plastic’s endless toxic existence by creating additional pollution, particularly of air and water. Recycling concentrates chemicals, making
recycled plastic more hazardous, especially when it is used to hold beverages and foods. The fossil fuel, petrochemical, and plastic industries have long pushed the false promise of recycling to distract and delay from the real work of cutting plastic production.
Solutions to plastic pollution exist today
While we must continue to call on world leaders to slash global plastic production, strengthen chemical regulations, and support those nations most harmed by plastic pollution, we as individuals have the solutions we need today. Consider how people lived before corporations pushed us to wastefully consume massive amounts of plastic and other single-use stuff. We need plastic-free systems of reuse and refill, like glass bottles and stainless-steel containers; the materials and ability to repair what we have, like replacement parts for cell phones; networks that enable folks to more easily share things like power tools and vehicles; and to make accessible regenerative materials like mushroom mycelium packaging and algae-based food wrappers.
Here in Connecticut, many people, businesses, and communities are already making the changes we need. Check out zero-waste shops such as Reboot Eco in Middletown and BD Provisions in Newtown and New Milford, as well as The Ditty Bag Market and Cafe in Mystic, among many others.
As those showing us solutions can attest, solving plastic pollution does not mean going backwards. Instead, we must apply the values we knew back then combined with what we know today to live more in line with the natural rhythms and rules of the Earth—because we are a part of this planet. Years ago, as an undergraduate studying environmental literature and media, the filmmaker David Chameides, told me: “No one can do everything, but everyone can do something.” It’s true. While this crisis may feel overwhelming at times, there’s something each of us can do to help build the more just, regenerative, world we need.
Erica Cirino is a writer and artist who explores the intersection of the human and more-than-human worlds. She serves as communications manager at the nonprofit Plastic Pollution Coalition, and is best known for her widely published photojournalistic works, including her award-winning book, Thicker Than Water: The Quest for Solutions to the Plastic Crisis.
Reclaiming the Land
A coastal community comes together to restore an urban forest in Bridgeport.
By Timothy Brown
It’s a brisk, but sunny December morning when I meet Roger Ludwig at St. Mary’s by the Sea, a coastal park located in Bridgeport’s Black Rock neighborhood that boasts spectacular views of Long Island Sound. Despite the steady breeze blowing from the water, people are outside enjoying the natural area: walking, pushing babies in strollers, or just sitting on benches, staring out at the Sound in quiet contemplation. Ludwig points to a Northern diamond terrapin nest located under a section of beach fence. Bits of eggshell are scattered around the shallow depression in the sand. The terrapin, a Connecticut state species of concern and the only turtle in North America that spends its entire life in brackish waters, is one of the many creatures that has recently returned to this beach thanks to an urban ecological restoration project spearheaded by Ludwig. Last year, they found 31 terrapin nests.
An unarguably beautiful setting, St. Mary’s overlooks the mouth of Ash Creek, a tidal estuary that separates Bridgeport from the Town of Fairfield. On
the Fairfield side is a small boat basin. When Ludwig and his wife moved here nearly a quarter of a century ago, the town was still regularly dredging the creek to keep it open for boats. And in the process, they were destroying the small sand spit on the Bridgeport side where the terrapins now nest.
“Having spent my summers up on Cape Cod, on the salt marshes and in the coastal forests, I looked around here and saw a lot of similarities,” Ludwig says, “but I also saw all the abuse it was taking. It was just filled with mug wort and much of the soil was hardpan. There were communities of switch grass, sea lavender and saltmarsh aster that had somehow survived. There was American beachgrass and beach plum. These were native species that somehow, with all this abuse, were surviving.”
Concerned, Ludwig approached Ash Creek Conservation Association—a local non-profit working to protect and restore Bridgeport’s shoreline—for help. They hired an ecologist to study the impact of dredging on the vulnerable species who called the beach “home.” When they presented the consultant’s report to the Town of Fairfield, town leaders responded positively. Today, it’s a protected site filled with beachgrass and other native species planted by Ludwig and his neighbors. “I don’t think it will ever be touched again,” he says proudly.
“ You can’t do it without a team of people. And I’ve been lucky; we’re surrounded by great people here in Black Rock.”
Roger Ludwig
Across the street, a small urban forest was suffering a similar fate to that of the beach. After decades of neglect, mugwort, bittersweet, wineberry, and other invasive species had choked out native plants in the roughly two-and-a-half-acre plot. Ludwig saw another opportunity to make a difference.
“This coastal forest had become an impenetrable, tangled mess—it was engulfed,” he says. Then, to make matters worse, in 2012, Hurricane Sandy pounded the coast, toppling the highly invasive tree of heaven and scattering debris throughout the forest. Ludwig began the slow process of cleaning up, but despite his efforts, the invasives just kept roaring back. So, once again, he decided to approach his neighbors for assistance. Thankfully, people were onboard to help.
The neighbors hosted work parties where volunteers pulled invasives and removed litter. They held open forums where citizens voiced their concerns—and hopes—for the site. Finally, with support from Ash Creek Conservation, the community presented their recommendations for how to restore the urban forest to the City of Bridgeport. “You’re not always sure what’s going to work,” Ludwig admits, “but we did have a plan.”
Their plan included hiring professionals for technical jobs— such as removing large, non-native trees—and planting native species at the site, particularly those species that provide food and shelter for migratory birds and other wildlife. Given the proximity to the water, the group was adamant against the use of any herbicides or other chemicals to control invasives. Instead, they used cardboard and wood chips to smother them. But when the wood chips failed to stop the spread of mug wort, they laid down plastic tarps, which can generate enough heat to kill invasive plants and their seeds in a process called solarization.
In place of the invasives, they planted northern bayberry, a salt tolerant native species, along the permitter of the forest, along with several trees—red cedar, shadbush, elm, and pitch pine. They left brush piles and stacked rocks to
create micro-habitats. And they partnered with conservation organizations such as Aspetuck Land Trust and Audubon, who provided plants and other materials, funding, and expertise. Gradually, the forest began to recover. Warblers, bats, hawks, monarch butterflies, and other migratory species returned. Today, it is once again a vital stopover for travelers along the Atlantic Flyway.
“You’ll never bring it back to where it was, but there are things you can do to enhance it,” says Ludwig. Equally important, they are connecting people to the urban forest.
“We use this as an educational lab,” he says. “If you come here in the spring, you’ll see kids here in hip boots and waders—and they love it!”
Along with students from Bridgeport and Fairfield schools, organizations such as the Norwalk Maritime Aquarium and Black Birders also use the forest for research, exploration, or simply quiet contemplation.
“It’s really filling a lot of needs. It’s a passive recreation area, and that’s the key thing. We want to maintain its passive use,” Ludwig says.
In 2023, he enrolled in CFPA’s Master Woodland Manager program to learn more about conservation and land management. While the program is not specifically focused on coastal communities, Ludwig says he was able to apply what he learned to the urban restoration project.
“The Master Woodland Manager program helped extensively; I thought it was fantastic,” he says. One of the key takeaways for him was the importance of developing shortterm goals for the property. “We need to come up with more 5, 10, and 15-year plans, because this place is going to evolve. We’re in its genesis.”
Despite all the hard physical work, money, and time Ludwig has personally devoted to the project, he is quick to acknowledge that it has been a community effort from the start. “You can’t do it without a team of people. And I’ve been lucky; we’re surrounded by great people here in Black Rock,” he says.
Still, environmental issues can be contentious and inspiring folks to not only support, but to help restore an urban forest isn’t always easy, especially when the fruits of one’s labor may not be visible for decades or even within one’s lifetime. “We have persuaded the community of the long-term benefits of this project,” Ludwig says. “We have shown them the benefits of good urban ecology.”
Ludwig is grateful for his neighbors’ time and contributions to the project. “Black Rock is a unique community where people are willing to give of themselves.”
Timothy Brown is the editor of Connecticut Woodlands.
Stepping into the History Books
At 74-years-young, Linda Vanderloop, earns the title as the oldest woman to thru-hike the AT.
By Timothy Brown
Photos by Hanna Vanderloop
When Linda Vanderloop began hiking the Appalachian Trail in November of 2023, she had no idea she was on a journey that would earn her the record as the oldest woman to thru-hike the legendary footpath.
“I always thought that would be great to do, but I never thought I could figure out the logistics,” says Linda, who was 74 when she completed the trail. “It’s so big; it’s so long; it’s so hard.”
But when her daughter, Hanna, said she was planning to hike the entire AT, Linda immediately replied: “I’m coming along.”
Hanna, who now resides in Connecticut, grew up on a family farm in Wisconsin; her parents still live in the log cabin where she was raised. The Vanderloop family always loved the outdoors, especially camping and canoeing, and vacations were often pilgrimages to national parks out West, but they weren’t long-distance hikers, per se.
Some days the hardest section was the one I just finished. But you’d get up and feel like this is so worth it. Linda Vanderloop
Walking had a more practical purpose, like hauling buckets of maple syrup or going out to the field to bring in the cows.
But during the pandemic, Hanna, who’s 38, began hiking along with her dog, Matcha, a Malinois-border collie cross. Linda had already been tackling sections of the Ice Age National Scenic Trail, which snakes east-west through Wisconsin for 1,200 miles. “When I started hiking, I wasn’t in the best of shape and six miles was long,” Hanna admits, “and (Linda) would be like, ‘I just finished a 27-mile day.’ I was proud of her, but I’m also competitive. How could my mom, who was in her late-60s, be doing more miles than I was?”
Inspired by her mother, Hanna started increasing her distances, and eventually completed over 500 miles of the Blue-Blazed Hiking Trails. When her sister, who also lives in Connecticut, had a baby and Linda started visiting the state more frequently, the three generations would often hike together.
When Hanna hiked the Connecticut section of the AT, which stretches from Springer Mountain in Georgia to Mount Katahdin in Maine, she FaceTimed with her mom from the first summit. As they took in the stunning landscape, Hanna blurted out, “This is what the Appalachian Trail looks like in Connecticut. Let’s go do it!”
During the week of Thanksgiving, the pair, along with Matcha, hiked a 75-mile stretch. Then they did more hiking over the holidays. “Once I got on the AT, I had to do the whole thing,” Hanna says. “It became an obsession. It was all I could think about or talk about with my mom.” In March, she began hiking the Appalachian Trail full-time. Linda, who had been going back and forth between the Midwest and the Northeast, started hiking the AT
The way we did it kept us in low traffic zones away from the bubble. We did this intentionally because we wanted to conserve the trail.
Hanna Vanderloop
full-time in April. By late July, Linda stopped going home and, like Hanna, committed herself to finishing the trail, section by section, within a year. Linda’s husband, Tom, provided them shuttle service, picking up trash and handing out water while chatting with other hikers as he waited at a trailhead. But at the time, Linda still didn’t know she was going to set a record.
The Appalachian Trail defines a thru-hike as completing the entire trail in 365 days. Hanna, who arranged the logistics, took into consideration such things as weather and bugs in deciding which section to hike when. They also wanted to avoid hiking in the AT “bubble,” where the number of hikers increases significantly along the 2,200-mile footpath.
“We’re passionate about conserving our environment, especially our trails,” Hanna says, “so one of the reasons why we hiked in this order had to do with not wanting to be in the bubble and contributing to the damage that thru-hiking does to the trail every year. There’s so much erosion and unmarked trails, and inevitably there’s trash left behind. The way we did it kept us in low traffic zones away from the bubble. We did this intentionally because we wanted to conserve the trail.”
While they were generally able to avoid large crowds, they encountered other challenges, such as an aggressive yellowjacket nest in North Carolina where Linda was stung more than 20 times, rocky stretches in Pennsylvania, and slippery bog boards in Maine, which, they say, also has some of the toughest climbs.
“It’s relentless and unforgiving. If it’s not mud, it’s rocks; if it’s not rocks, it’s a steep climb or a steep descent down rebar ladders or slippery rocks,” Hanna says. “But it’s absolutely gorgeous. Everyday there were amazing views.”
“Some days the hardest section was the one I just finished,” Linda adds. “Never hard enough that you wanted to quit, but there were many days when I said, ‘I’m done for the day; I’m tired’. But you’d get up and feel like this is so worth it; this is so great; the views are so beautiful.”
Part of what made the hike so special, they say, was the supportive trail community they discovered along their journey. Even simple acts of kindness became significant gestures. Once, after a particularly grueling 17-mile-stretch in Maine where they’d encountered unseasonably cold temperatures and nearly became hypothermic, they met a trail angel in
the parking lot who offered them freshly made pancakes. “Boy, was that awesome,” Linda recalls.
As summer slid into autumn, it became clear that Linda had a chance to beat the previous record as the oldest woman to thru-hike the trail set by Nan Reisinger a decade earlier. And on October 28, 2024, Linda ascended New York’s Bear Mountain along with her daughter and stepped into the history books.
Their trek has inspired Hanna to get more involved in trail work, helping to keep them clean and accessible for others to enjoy. “I definitely want to get more involved in trail maintenance in Connecticut and beyond,” she says, “because I really do believe in it.”
When it comes to future hiking goals, Linda is purposefully vague. She doesn’t like to make plans, she says, although she admits to wanting to visit more national parks. “I didn’t really set out with the goal (of setting the new record); it fell into me,” she says. “So, I just have an open mind, and something always comes my way.”
Timothy Brown is the editor of Connecticut Woodlands.
Linda and Hanna Vanderloop’s Trek By the Numbers
Total miles: 2,200
Total elevation gain: 900,000 feet
Pairs of boots: 2 (Linda)
Pairs of trail runners: 5 (Hanna)
Purchasing Standing Timber.
Ferrucci & Walicki, LLC Land Management Consultants
Environmental Stewardship and Land Management since 1982
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Membership at CFPA is about being included. Whether itʼs an education program, a trail work party, or just hiking with a group of friends, YOU create the CFPA community. Invite your friends to join in on the fun by becoming a member, or better yet, give them the gift of membership.
Join, renew, or give a membership at www. ctwoodlands.org/join
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Pathways
On the morning of Sunday, March 11, 1888, folks across Connecticut awoke to an unseasonably warm late winter’s day with balmy temperatures stretching into the 50s. But by midday, the weather had changed radically. First came the pounding rain, followed by plummeting temperatures that by 8:00 that evening had transformed the rain into a mess of sleet and snow. By the next day, the entire state was engulfed in a violent and dangerous blizzard. Workers and students were sent home early as heavy snow and gale force winds battered the state and temperatures dipped to minus 15 Fahrenheit. Many others became stranded for the duration of the storm. Over the next three days, the “Great White Hurricane,” as it would come to be called, pounded the East Coast, from Washington, D.C., to the Canadian border. Connecticut received more than 30 inches of snow in the first 24 hours alone. Hartford, like other cities along the eastern seaboard, lost contact with the outside world as telephone and telegraph lines snapped and trains were halted. Coal, milk, and other essential goods couldn’t be delivered. When the storm finally ended on March 14, many parts of the state had received more than four feet of snow and drifts easily reached a dozen feet or more (New Haven recorded 40-foot-drifts).
Workers were paid $1.75 a day to shovel snow—though many people volunteered their time—as horses and oxen pulled snowplows through huge snowdrifts. Eventually railroads were cleared and commerce resumed. But across the region, more than 400 people died during the storm and damage at the time was estimated to be upwards of $20 million (nearly $650 million today). To this day, the King Blizzard of 1888 remains the worst in Connecticut’s recorded history.
Above: The first train to get through the Connecticut Western Railroad after the blizzard ended.
Below: A team of horses plows snow on Main Street, Hartford. Photos by William H. Lockwood.
