Most of us will never have the
opportunity to travel to Antarctica, although we are seeing more and
more images of it with the urgent message of climate change. I was happy to make the acquaintance--across the blogosphere--of photographer Tatiana Botton (raised in Barcelona, now based in Los Angeles and Maui, with work that has appeared in Vogue and GQ, among other international publications), who traveled to Antarctica on a photographic expedition. Tatiana was kind enough to grant me an exclusive interview about her amazing experience there and to share some images with us here at Joyfully Green.
Tatiana, what
was your personal inspiration for making the trip to Antarctica?
A
few years back, my partner and I were watching the news and saw a boat
with passengers being rescued off the coast of Antarctica by the National
Geographic Expedition boat. Instead of being freaked out by what we saw,
we were actually inspired to go there! Once we had decided to organize
the trip, it is quite a long process, as you are planning a year in
advance. This gave us plenty of time to plan, and for me to make this a
photo expedition.
Can you tell me about the logisitcs
of getting to and staying in Antarctica?
So we planned about a
year in advance and decided to use the National Geographic Expedition
boat. That selection was based on what the boat had to offer--not in
amenities but in scientists on board. We departed out of Santiago de
Chile and took a chartered flight to Ushuaia, Argentina. We were able to
spend the day visiting Ushuaia prior to boarding. Once we boarded, the
journey began. We had to cross the Drake Passage. This is the roughest
sea in the world! It is a body of water located between the Southern tip of South America at Cape Horn and the South Shetland Island of
Antarctica. The passage can take anywhere from 48 hours to over 72 hours, depending on if you get the "Drake Lake" or the "Drake Quake." Well, they said we got the
"Drake Lake" on our way down there, but I can assure you that the next
morning, the dining room was pretty empty! Everyone stayed inside and hoped
for the best, with the help of Dramamine, ginger, or any other natural remedy
you could find. Once we got to the Antarctic Peninsula, things were a lot
calmer. We spent about 12 days total on the boat, including the passage
there and back.
What was the temperature range while
you were there, and what were you told to bring to be ready for it?
The temperatures were very frigid. National Geographic
provides a list of required items to wear and bring for the trip, like
special arctic boots, waterproof pants, under layers, and so on. My partner and I
were some of the few to bring ski goggles--they came very much in handy for
hanging out on the deck of the boat while moving and being hit by a
full snow blizzard!
How close could you get to
the penguins to photograph them?
We
were able to get respectfully close to them. You do not want to disturb
their habits and routine, but you can place yourself close enough to
photograph them and allow them to come to you if they are interested. We
were able to see a variety of different penguins in their natural
habitat. Our trip was in the beginning of the season, so the snow around
the penguins was still very white. We have been told that a later trip
would not be as pleasant--there would be a lot of very fishy, smelly, red
snow around them--as the penguins eat krill and they are not very clean! But our experience was fantastic. I have included here some of the
penguins shots I took where I try to give the penguins some human
personality.
You have an interesting photograph called "Taking Control" in which the
penguins are marching up the hill where humans have set up some sort of
operation. What business is happening at this location?
This is an old Argentinian
abandoned base in Antarctica. As you can see in the image, the Argentinian
Flag is on the left side of the image. This was very interesting to me, as we
are talking about the Antarctic Peninsula, so there is actually soil under
the ice! The coloring for this image is completely different than the
usual Antarctica or blue iceberg images. I was very pleased to see Nature
taking things back. It is a very warm image and the penguins feel right at home.
What sort
of sounds do you hear in Antarctica? The way you have photographed the
icebergs, it seems like it would be either eerily silent or a
mysterious, chilling wind would be howling.
Yes, there is a sound while traveling through Antarctica. First when
you are on the boat, there is for sure the sound of the wind and the
large snowflakes falling. Then there is the sound of the ice when
travelling through passages where the ice is still thick and not melted.
Then, when you do go on land, usually there are penguins, so it can be
quite noisy!
I noticed
that for one of your gallery showings, you donated the proceeds to
"non-profit nature organizations." Which nature organizations do you
personally support and why?
I
think it is important to get involved. Locally, I like to donate proceeds
from sales to Heal the Bay. Cleaning our local ocean is very necessary
and Heal the Bay also provides a good deal of ocean education to local schools. I
am also active in the The Nature Conservancy in trying to protect our
parks. Lastly, the World Wildlife Fund--I have been a supporter
since childhood and I continue to donate to their efforts to protect
endangered animals around the world.
Your icebergs
reminded me of rare jewels. But sometimes they seemed like portraits of
lonely, regal, elderly people with many wrinkles. I can see how you have a
history with portrait photography! What is your own artistic
impression of the icebergs?
This
is an interesting commentary people have been doing with the icebergs.
It has come to my attention and I now call them the "Portraits of
Icebergs." Each one seems to have an identity and people are attracted
to them depending on what they represent: contentment, danger, sexiness,
old age. I was just trying to show what was in front of me and while
processing the work--it took me more than 6 months--they just appeared in
front of me. There is very little retouching in my work and there is
absolutely no cropping. This is how I shot them. I was given the
opportunity to show the work for the first time at a solo show in Santa
Monica, California, and since then, there has been a lot of interest in them.
I loved what you said in your biography of unstable ice sculptures and
moving sand dunes: "They are here now, always changing, like the
continuous passage of time and our human influence on nature." Do you
think you'll ever go back to these places (desert or polar regions) in
the future to see how they have changed with time since you last saw
them? For me, they are magical. This is
what attracted me the most to the trip to Antarctica. I would go again
and will never be able to shoot the same iceberg ever. This is a direct
representation of the passage of time. Same thing with the sand dunes I
shot in the Namibian Desert. These are two places in the world I need to
go back to. Though the Drake Passage to get to Antarctica really makes
be doubt I will do it again!
What's next for you to photograph? Any travel planned?
Well,
I have a few "secret" projects planned! They are secret because I am
not sure when I will be able to do them, but I can assure you there will
be a bit more ice involved in them. I am looking for representation in
New York, and in the meantime, I am busy promoting other artists as I have
created an event: WOMEN MAKE THE WORLD GO ROUND, where we showcase women
artists based in Los Angeles with a fun, multi-art event twice a year. I
am also about to open a small gallery in Paia, Maui, where I spend part
of the year.
Tatiana, I just want to say that I've really enjoyed studying your mesmerizing
photographs--they are so beautiful and evocative. Thank you for the
privilege of interviewing you and sharing your work with
the readers of Joyfully Green!
Please show your appreciation to Tatiana for giving her time so thoughtfully to this exclusive interview--kindly leave a comment for her below, and also share her interview on Facebook and beyond. Also, I'd love to hear from readers with recommendations for other nature photographers and artists to interview for Joyfully Green.
To see more of Tatiana Botton's extraordinary work (available for purchase), please visit www.tatianabotton.com
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you enjoyed reading this post, please subscribe to this blog via RSS reader (bottom of right column) or email (under "Categories").
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(c)
2013 by Joy Sussman/JoyfullyGreen.com. All rights reserved. Text digitally fingerprinted and protected by MyFreeCopyright.com. Photographs within this post are exclusively the property of Tatiana Botton; please contact the photographer at her website above for permission to use or reproduce her work in any way. This site licensed by Creative Commons.
On principle alone, let me say that I have never watched (nor will I ever watch) "Jersey Shore" or "The Real Housewives of New Jersey." I like to think that I have a good sense of humor, but when it comes to New Jersey, I just can't join the pile-up. Even before Joe Piscopo made it a running joke years ago on SNL, New Jersey has been the punchline of countless jokes, and at the risk of sounding overly defensive, I'm here to tell you that after living here for nearly seven years, New Jersey's bad rap is largely undeserved.
I've spent more years of my life in Connecticut, New York (the long-time "enemy" of New Jersey), and Pennsylvania (like any other state, they all have their good and bad points), but as it looks like I'm here to stay, I'm going to defend my adopted home state. Every state has its negative stereotype, and yes, there may be slivers of truth in them. However, here are 10 things about New Jersey to celebrate:
1. Farms like Sun High Orchards. We live within 15 minutes of (at least) five really wonderful farms that spare us the generic blandness of supermarkets.
3. We get all four seasons distinctly, in pretty equal measure. Not too hot in spring, not too cold in fall, and the quiet beauty of snow when it's supposed to snow (for the most part).
6. Meryl
Streep (Summit and Bernardsville), Anne Hathaway (Millburn), and Jack
Nicholson (Neptune City and Spring Lake) all grew up here. Snooki did not.
7. Quaint towns with smart, un-Snooki-ish people, like Princeton, Mendham, and Chester.
8. Summertime means the very fattest blueberries, juiciest peaches, and super-sweet corn, grown at the local farms I mentioned in point #1.
9. Coming across deer, sheep, horses, goats, wild turkeys, pheasants, cows, llamas, and more wildlife than you can shake a stick at is a routine occurrence--as is going to a bustling town like Montclair or Morristown.
10. That's my back yard in the opening shot. Although I loved many things about my 11 years in New York City, having no yard and waking up to barred gates on my windows weren't two of them. So yes, I'm very grateful to have a beautiful, spacious yard with this view.
New Jersey pleasantly surprises me almost every day with its grace and beauty, and on that note, I just joined Pinterest last night, so I can continue to share images of "The Real New Jersey." To join me on Pinterest, click here. If the link doesn't work for you, you can search Pinterest for "JoyfullyGreener." (Joyfully Green was already taken...grrrr...) As a Pinterest newbie, I'm on a steep learning curve, but I hope to add my very favorite nature images there and I hope you'll join me. (And see links below for Facebook and Twitter. I'm all over the place, it seems!)
What do you really love about your home state? Is there something special about it that is not widely known? What about your state's stereotypes--are they true or false? Please share in the comments section. (Especially you, New Jerseyans!)
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(c)
2013 by Joy Sussman/JoyfullyGreen.com. All rights reserved. Photos and
text digitally fingerprinted and protected by MyFreeCopyright.com. Site licensed by Creative Commons.
Last
winter, we couldn't take the cold weather (not that we're faring much better this year!), so we took off to Sanibel and Captiva, two subtropical barrier islands in the Gulf of Mexico. It was a short trip from Fort Myers, off the western coast of Florida. I hadn't been to Sanibel since I was a child and I'm sorry that I waited
so long to return. It's peaceful, pristine and, perhaps best of all for me and the purpose of this post, remarkably green.
On Sanibel and Captiva, the locals take their trash disposal, recycling, and conservation efforts very seriously. It's hard to find any litter at all there. As for conservation, a must-see on Sanibel is the J. N. "Ding" Darling National Wildlife Refuge.
"Ding" Darling had a rather goofy nickname, but in fact he was the man responsible for founding the National Wildlife Federation. Way back in 1938, before anybody was talking about melting icebergs and greenhouse gases, Darling was advocating for the conservation of our natural resources and protection of our wildlife, and famously illustrated a cartoon entitled "How Rich Will We Be When We Have Converted All Our Forests, All Our Soil, All Our Water Resources and Our Minerals Into Cash?" (He wasn't just your average cartoonist--he won two Pulitzer Prizes for editorial cartooning.) After his death in 1962, his followers formed a foundation to continue his legacy, and in 1976, the wildlife refuge named after him was established on Sanibel.
At
the refuge, you can see an impressive variety of migratory birds, mammals, reptiles--perhaps
even an alligator or two. (We didn't see any gators on the day of our
visit, but they're not uncommon.) You also can see the largest
undeveloped mangrove ecosystem in the United States. We learned that
mangroves established themselves on Sanibel long ago, and they
have successfully thwarted many a subtropical storm from washing away
the island. This link details the further ecological importance of mangroves, from providing food and shelter for fish and wildlife, to forming essential nutrients for the marine food chain. As important as they are, their root systems look like wildly tangled messes--or your worst possible "Bad Hair Day."
Here's what most of our days were like on Sanibel: Rise early (but not crazy-early), eat breakfast in the room, head to the hotel pool while we had it all to ourselves, and then as soon as the pool started to get populated, we'd head to one of the many tranquil, uncrowded, unspoiled beaches to sunbathe, swim in the bathtub-warm water, build elaborate sandcastles with moats, and look for shells. Ah yes, the shells...
Sanibel is world-renowned for its shells, and it is truly staggering to see the sheer amount of them that wash ashore with every tide. The shell-collectors of Sanibel are a serious bunch--they're out in droves at the earliest light of dawn, bent over in what is called the "Sanibel Stoop," looking eagerly for their treasures. We visited the Bailey-Matthews Shell Museum (www.shellmuseum.org) early on in our trip, which turned out to be a very smart move indeed--every night, the kids would sort and categorize their daily haul of shells back at the hotel room.
We spent one of our vacation days on Captiva (an easy drive from Sanibel), for more lovely beachgoing. There is a little less to do than on Sanibel, but that is exactly the point of going there. The sunset photo at the start of this post was taken on Captiva.
We thoroughly enjoyed our winter getaway, 100% free of crowds and commercialization. It was the definition of what a vacation should be, and when we returned to the bitter cold up north, we were refreshed, recharged, and ready to face the remainder of the winter, with warm memories of our island escape.
Have you been to Sanibel or Captiva? Have you ever had a "green vacation"? Please share your destinations and experiences in the Comments section.
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(c) 2013 by Joy Sussman/JoyfullyGreen.com. All rights reserved. Text and photographs digitally fingerprinted and protected by MyFreeCopyright.com. Site licensed by Creative Commons.
It was another crisp, clear autumn day--much too pretty to stay inside--so when I picked up the kids from school, we headed straight out on an unplanned trip: Hacklebarney State Park in Chester, New Jersey. It's not far from us, it's free, it's gorgeous, and it's open year- round, so we visit frequently. It's also dog-friendly, so Delilah eagerly came along with us for the ride.
Surprisingly (given the fireworks of color in our own neighborhood this week), the leaves at Hacklebarney are still mostly green. But there were a few golden trees glinting in the sun...
...as well as a smattering of orange and red ones.
Being in full dress-up mode lately (Halloween right around the corner and all), Charlotte made this leaf into a makeshift mask:
Then the kids were off to explore the stream and waterfall, one of their favorite parts of Hacklebarney park. It's incredibly peaceful and meditative (even if you're a normally high-energy eight-year-old boy) to sit beside a stream as it burbles and meanders along through a forest.
It reminded me of a practice I keep coming across in my reading lately--something the Japanese call "Shinrin-yoku" or "forest bathing." It has nothing to do with actually getting wet--it's just about immersing yourself in the peacefulness of a forest, breathing in the scent of trees, as a way to cleanse your mind (and perhaps, as some studies suggest, boost your immune system). Turns out that I've been forest-bathing for over four decades now (see Beyond the Back Yard: The Roots of a Green Life.) It's definitely a practice I want to pass on to my children. Added benefit: It's the kind of "bathtime" they never seem to complain about.
After we'd had our "bath," we headed out of the park, once again seeing these wise words:
On our way home, we stopped at the nearby (and wonderful) Hacklebarney Farm (104 State Park Road in Chester, www.njcidermill.com), for their very own wood-pressed apple cider and homemade cinnamon donuts.
It was charming and cozy (the family of owners is also very friendly and helpful), and because it was late Friday afternoon, right before closing time, there wasn't even a crowd. Sweet!
(c) 2012 by Joy Sussman/JoyfullyGreen.com. All rights reserved. Text and photographs cannot be used without express written permission from the author.
I love visiting beaches in the off-season, after the hordes of tourists are long-gone and you can have the whole wide expanse of sand and surf to yourself. This probably stems from growing up in the (exceedingly beautiful) beach town of East Lyme, Connecticut, (photo above), where summers meant the streets, shops, restaurants, and beaches were filled with out-of-town guests (we called them "summer people"), and fall meant a return to "normal." Life in balance again.
Our children are remarkably peaceful when they're at play on a quiet beach. Recently, we were in Newport, Rhode Island, and they enjoyed exploring the little tidepools among the rocks, sharing their discoveries with each other.
(c) 2012 by Joy Sussman/JoyfullyGreen.com. All rights reserved. Text and photographs cannot be used without express written permission from the author.
Yesterday, it was the perfect September day--not too hot, not too cold--just nice and crisp, like an apple. So we headed to the local orchard after school.
You already know how much I love Sun High Orchards (see this post), so I surprised the kids by picking them up from the schoolbus and heading straight over to the farm. Of course, first, Charlotte needed to put on her pink princess skirt over her school pants. (Lately, she can't stand wearing pants and is all about the dresses and skirts. She's a very girly-girl. It's sweet.) There was something so pleasing and refreshing about being outdoors late on a September afternoon, wandering around leisurely, in search of the perfect apples.
Zachary was particularly proud whenever he found a really good one.
Charlotte needed to show me every single apple before she put it in her bag.
When we had collected our fill, we headed over to the animals' area to say hello.
I had never noticed before how a goat's eyes are like cats' eyes, but horizontal instead.
Once we got home, we realized that we went a bit crazy picking the apples. We really had a lot of them! But they were so pretty, like little sculptures.
Delilah doesn't know quite what to make out of them.
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(c)
2012 by Joy Sussman/JoyfullyGreen.com. All rights reserved. Photos and
text digitally fingerprinted and protected by MyFreeCopyright.com. Site licensed by Creative Commons.
Our extended family just spent two extraordinary, life-changing weeks touring around Israel. Eleven of us--my family of four, my husband's parents, and my husband's sister's family of five--all in a van (luckily, we all like each other!), guided by one of the most knowledgeable and personable tourguides on the planet, Shimon Alexander, and an expert driver with a playful sense of humor named Itamar Bar-Noy, who squeezed through the narrowest of old city streets and maneuvered multiple hairpin turns on mountain roads without incident. I've never been on a vacation where I've learned so much about a different country--the land, the people, the food, and the customs--experiencing it in such depth, from so many different angles. But as this is a green blog, I'm going to narrow the focus to the environmental aspects of Israel.
Israel is a relatively small country (about the size of New Jersey) and it's a hot country (during our two weeks there, there were a few days that sizzled in the low 100's), and those two factors dictate most of their environmental choices. Because land is at a premium, farmers have gotten harvesting down to a science, and it's not unusual for the same plot of land to be used for three or four different crops in one year.
Once they've harvested one crop, it's time to move on to the next planting. And they grow a LOT of food for their country, as importing and exporting with their neighbors isn't easy, given the political climate in the Middle East. During our travels, we saw growing grapes, apples, olives, mangoes, carob, corn, wheat, bananas, dates, figs, peanuts, almonds, prickly pears, and pomegranates. (Plus, rosemary is growing wild all over the place...the earthy scent was wonderful).
Because Israel is a desert nation, they (very wisely) use solar panels. We saw them everywhere we went, from the roofs of little houses to big corporations.
Even in poverty-stricken Bedouin communities, there were solar panels on
the roofs of lean-to tin houses, alongside the prerequisite barrel of water on
the roof.
Despite the extreme heat and the scarcity of rainfall, the country has done an astounding job with agricultural irrigation and water conservation. The Jewish National Fund (JNF) has constructed more than 200 reservoirs in Israel, and they also play a major role in the treatment of greywater for irrigation, which frees up drinking water.
We also saw CFL bulbs everywhere--in hotels, in homes, in caves and tunnels. I can't remember seeing even one incandescent bulb. This exotic and cavernous restaurant in Jaffa used CFL bulbs in their chandeliers:
Israel was the first nation in the world to partner with Better Place (betterplace.com) in building an electric car infrastructure. There are charge spots and battery switch stations located throughout the country for the fully electric, battery-powered cars.
I'm sad to say that it's not all green in Israel. In particular, there is a big problem with litter. We saw it frequently, in the cities and in the countryside. The only place that I remember being totally free of any trace of litter was Yad Vashem, the Holocaust Museum, the grounds of which are respectfully pristine.
That beautiful picture of the grottoes at Rosh Hanikra, at the beginning of the post, has a contrasting view from the same location:
I struggled emotionally for a few days about whether to include photos of the garbage in Israel, because I feel a strong, sentimental attachment to the country and I don't want to negatively color anybody's view of it. But again, this is a green blog, and I feel like it would be dishonest for me to leave out that part of the environmental picture, because it is, indeed, a very visible part.
About a year ago, I was being interviewed by a local Jewish newspaper's reporter about our school's green initiatives, and we were talking about litter when she said, "There's so much litter in Israel!" Having never been there before, I naively replied, "That's a lesson I'm trying to teach my children--if we see litter, we pick it up and look for a place to throw it out." She was quiet for a moment, and now I understand why. If we had tried to pick up all of the litter that we saw in Israel, we would've had very little time for anything else. It's not like driving down the street and seeing a couple of plastic bottles in the gutter. Too often, it's like this:
So, whose responsibility is it to clean up the litter in Israel? The land is sacred to so many people--the Jews, the Christians, the Muslims. Even secular Israelis have a pride in their country that is fierce and determined. And yet, even in the most sacred of spots--litter. Along the Via Dolorosa (the route traveled by Jesus Christ as he carried his cross), we saw plastic bottles and discarded food wrappers in the street as pilgrimmage tours marched on past, literally carrying their own large crosses.
In the same area, at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, where the tomb of Jesus lies, we came across this scene:
Notice the ladder at the second-story window? It's been there since about 1852, because nobody knows who put it there and nobody wants to touch it. Despite the fact that at least six different religious groups share custodial duties for the church (including the Greek Orthodox, the Roman Catholic Church, and the Armenian Apostolic Church), nobody could ever decide whose responsibility it was to take down the ladder. And so it just sits there. Much like the litter scattered about the country, nobody can decide whose fault it is, or whose job it is to clean it up. Perhaps some don't even notice it anymore.
But I don't want to end on that note, because Israel is, first and foremost, a stunningly beautiful and endlessly fascinating country.
It's culturally rich and diverse, from the ultra-Orthodox at the Western Wall...
to the Bedouins and the Israeli soldiers...
to the Muslim women swimming in full garb in the Mediterranean.
It's a small country, but within its borders, you can visit mountains, beaches, bustling modern cities, ancient ruins, deserts, seas, nature reserves, and forests. And as for forests, thanks to the JNF's concerted efforts in forestation, Israel is one of only two countries in the world that started the 21st century with more trees than it had fifty years ago.
In Israel, you can descend into a cave and dig for artifacts from two thousand years ago...
or ascend the mighty Masada.
You can see an animal you've never even heard of (at least I hadn't), which is somehow, inexplicably, the closest relation to an elephant: the rock hyrax.
And I'll spare you the photo of me floating in the Dead Sea, but let me tell you, it was the most relaxed that I have EVER been. (I wish everybody could have the opportunity to float in the Dead Sea, but it's evaporating at an alarming rate--an average of three feet per year--and could essentially vanish within a few decades if it's not somehow replenished.)
Israel is a land of beautiful old views...
...and wonderful new friends, like Shimon Alexander (below), Tourguide Extraordinaire, who told me, "I know my country, I love my country, and I love people, so one day, I decided: This is what I want to do." We've been forever enriched by that decision.
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(c)
2012 by Joy Sussman/JoyfullyGreen.com. All rights reserved. Photos and
text digitally fingerprinted and protected by MyFreeCopyright.com. Site licensed by Creative Commons.
Maybe it's because it's summertime and I want to be outside every chance I get, but lately, I can't stand going to the supermarket. I've gotten my weekly supermarket visits down to a science, where I'm in and out of the store in 20 minutes, tops. I'm practically fleeing from the place. But there's another reason that I'm giving it the slip: I've discovered how infinitely better it is (for our tastebuds, our health, and the planet, of course) to buy all of our produce from local farms instead.
From a green standpoint, "eating locally" is a huge issue. Michael Pollan has explored the topic in his enlightening best-seller, The Omnivore's Dilemma. It's well worth a read if you haven't already picked it up, but one of the main points is this: Think about the time it takes for a piece of fruit to be picked, get loaded onto a truck, potentially travel through several states, and finally wind up in your supermarket, only to sit on the shelf for who-knows-how-long before it's purchased and eaten. How many gallons of gas did it take to get there? How much CO(2) was expelled from the tailpipe? Or did it have to fly around the world, expending jet fuel, to get to your store? (New Zealand apples, I'm looking at you.) How much plastic or styrofoam was manufactured for the packaging?
One of Pollan's other main points in the book is the astounding difference in taste between fresh-picked and store-bought. And that brings us to the astonishingly delicious scent of ripe summer fruit at Sun High Orchards of Randolph, NJ. When I was there this week, snapping these photos, the current owner-operator, Phil Green, told me that his father-in-law's father started the farm in 1945, and they've kept it in the family ever since. Hats off to them!
Instead of a supermarket with its generic atmosphere, white-bright-fluorescents, and too-chilly temperature, a trip to the farm is (quite literally) a breath of fresh air.
Instead of rows upon rows of neon cardboard boxes, plastic containers, and styrofoam trays, the shelves at Sun High look like this:
I felt like I had walked right into the movie, Paper Moon.
Instead of ho-hum fruit packaged in little clear plastic coffins (because as Pollan writes, it's long into the decaying process once it's in the supermarket), everywhere you look, you see glorious still-lifes of gorgeous produce. Just look at these little juicy guys below, all angling for their close-up...
There's something about produce that's not covered in plastic which makes it seem outrageously delicious (and it is). Most of the produce at Sun High is loose, so you can bring your own reusable bag and pack it all in, once it's weighed. Smaller fruits, such as blueberries and strawberries, come in cardboard cartons, and as the new recycling ad for NYC says, "If you can rip it, you can recycle it." Our town has finally started to accept almost all coded plastics for recycling (hallelujah!), but it takes more energy and creates more pollution to melt down plastic and make it into something else, so I'm sticking with the cartons if there's a choice. Plus, if they do wind up astray, they're biodegradable, unlike plastic (see my July entry entitled Road-Testing Reusable Lunch Containers.)
When I was done selecting my fruit, I headed outside to visit these two characters...
Alpaca: "You go, girlfriend!"
Donkey: "Mmmm...dry hay."
Then I headed homeward, happily, to feast!
Almost too pretty to eat. (I said almost.)
I can't give up the supermarket entirely, because Sun High doesn't carry things like milk, eggs, and cereal. But sorry, supermarket: You've lost my business in the produce department. It wasn't even close.
Sun High Orchards is located at 19 Canfield Avenue in Randolph, NJ. Open 7 days a week in summer from 9 am to 5 pm. Phone: 973-584-4734. Bring the kids and let them pick out their own fruits and veggies. Plus, there are plenty of farm animals to visit and feed. One final green note: The produce at Sun High is not organic, but you can use an all-natural spray like Veggie Wash to remove any residue.
Do you have a farm or farmer's market that you frequent? Please share the details in the Comments section below.
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Remember in that old "Seinfeld" episode, when George Costanza and his father kept yelling for "Serenity Now!!!"? It's amazing how many times I think of that episode while I'm trying to come up with new activities for the kids--especially while they're busy practicing their favorite go-to activities: whining and teasing.
We've been experiencing a lot of record-heat days this summer in Northern New Jersey, so what's a cabin-feverish family to do on a Saturday afternoon when the temperature is hovering around the 95-degree mark? Go outside, of course! "Ugh," you say? We had our doubts, too, but found a surprisingly peaceful and cool respite in the form of the Frelinghuysen Arboretum. Located in Morris Plains, NJ, the Arboretum comprises 127 acres of woodlands, meadows, and gardens, with a Colonial Revival mansion at its center.
Thanks to all of the blissfully shaded areas, the kids got a chance to run around the garden paths and burn off some pent-up energy...
They also had time to stop and smell the flowers. There are thousands of them...
Almost all of the trees and plants are labeled, so you know what you're looking at. (See those little black signs in the middleground below? Most of the signs are bigger--don't worry.)
The kids' favorite part of the Arboretum was the Rock Labyrinth. When we read the map before heading off to it, I have to admit that I'd been picturing a maze with Stonehenge-size boulders, but the kids were happy with the labyrinth just the way it is...
While they spent a good half hour chasing each other around the labyrinth, I wandered around the grounds and found this bucolic scene:
The Jane Austen fan in me was picturing Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley coming around the bend on horseback, on their way to visit the Bennet sisters.
I've also become strangely obsessed with studying the bark of trees. I can't believe it took me 'til my forties to really look at all of the colors and textures, the nooks and crannies, in tree bark...
I know, I know...I'm such a nerdy tree-hugger!
Anyway, it was a lovely afternoon.
You can enjoy the Frelinghuysen Arboretum for free, but it's nice if you donate a few dollars at the Visitors' Center. Be generous and consider it a thank-you to the Arboretum for a refreshing interlude on an otherwise sweltering day. "Serenity Now," indeed.
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you enjoyed reading this post, please subscribe to this blog via RSS reader (bottom of right column) or email (under "Categories").
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of the post to get to the main site. Then you will see the comments
section at the end of the post. Thanks for reading Joyfully Green!
(c)
2012 by Joy Sussman/JoyfullyGreen.com. All rights reserved. Photos and
text digitally fingerprinted and protected by MyFreeCopyright.com. Site licensed by Creative Commons.
Alison Inches: I Can Save the Earth!: One Little Monster Learns to Reduce, Reuse, and Recycle (Little Green Books) "One little monster learns to reduce, reuse, and recycle." That's all good, of course, but my own children laugh out loud every time they read how Max the Little Monster (before his attitude adjustment) clogs up the toilet with too much toilet paper, yelling "Hungry Toilet!" Kids...they just love the potty humor. Made from 100% recycled paper.
Julia Rawlinson: Fletcher and the Falling Leaves This book is incredibly sweet. A sensitive, little fox named Fletcher cannot understand what is happening to his beloved tree at the onset of autumn, and he tries everything in his power to keep the leaves on the tree. When he wakes up one winter morning to find his tree covered in dazzlingly beautiful snow crystals, it chokes me up every time. Although it's not about saving the earth, the book is a lovely tribute to nature and its seasons.
Diane Muldrow: We Planted a Tree I love how this relatively new book (published in 2010) is charmingly illustrated in the same style as those Little Golden Books from the 1960's. In simple prose, the book explains what happens when you plant a tree and watch it grow, while enjoying the benefits of fruit, shade, budding flowers, and cleaner air.
Dr. Seuss: The Lorax (Classic Seuss) This book is a classic for a reason. As I was reading it for the first time to my children, I could see the shock and sadness on their faces when the very first Truffula Tree was chopped down. Unlike the progression of The Curious Garden (see below), things just keep getting worse--all in the name of "progress." It ends with a powerful message: "UNLESS someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not." Great for generating conversations with young children about caring for and protecting natural resources. Printed on recycled paper.
Peter Brown: The Curious Garden First, I have to admit it: As a mom, I'm *slightly* bothered that a little boy is walking around a creepy city all by himself, and "stumbles upon a dark stairwell" which he decides to head up. However, this book is simply magical, so I'll chalk it up to "willing suspension of disbelief" and let it go. With each page, as Liam grows from a novice gardener into a Green Thumb Extraordinaire, the dreary city in which everybody stays inside becomes a green utopia that everybody enjoys. Liam helps the whole city to bloom, and changes the mindsets of its citizens, simply by taking the first steps and sticking to his mission--without any preaching whatsoever. My favorite parts are the multiple spreads with no words at all, which depict how the gray, dirty city is growing greener and cleaner with the passage of time, thanks to our hero. Printed on recycled paper.
Lewis Blackwell: The Life & Love of Trees Hands-down, this is my favorite photography book of all time. The collection of photographs, from close-ups of leaves to forest vistas, is simply breath-taking. It sits on my coffee table at home, and whenever I need a breather, it's there for me with its exquisite portraits of trees, accompanied by some poetic food for thought. I do find it odd that this, of all books, wasn't printed on recycled paper, but perhaps the publisher felt the photographic quality would be diminished? In any case, I forgive the transgression, because this book is a heart-breakingly beautiful ode to trees.
Richard Louv: Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children From Nature-Deficit Disorder I feel like I grew up with Richard Louv. His childhood was so similar to mine, with a neighborhood full of children all outside, playing together, and exploring from morning until our parents called us home for dinner (and then back outside again after we ate). Louv makes some very compelling arguments for limiting technology and reintroducing your children to the powerful, healing effects of nature.
Henry D. Thoreau: Walden: A Fully Annotated Edition Like many other Americans, I read this book in high school English class, but it means much more to me now, as an adult. Living in our "More! More! More!" society, it's always a good reminder that you can, indeed, exist quite happily with just the basics. I chose this edition for the interesting annotations, but also because the cover photograph of a small house in the woods is so tranquil, simple, and pretty--it sits on my coffee table to inspire me.
Ed Begley Jr.: Living Like Ed: A Guide to the Eco-Friendly Life Ed Begley, Jr. is a pioneer in the green movement (he's been eco-conscious since 1970), and he's one of my heroes. I can't live exactly like Ed (which I'll detail in another blog post in the future), but I love his approach: "You don't climb Mount Everest in a single day." He groups all of his suggestions into "Easy Changes" (which he calls "the low-hanging fruit"), "Not-So-Big Changes" and "Big Changes" (in which the biggest pay-offs require some up-front investments). You can pick and choose what you want to try. Have I mentioned that Ed is one of my heroes? Printed on 100% post-consumer recycled paper.