The Land We Tend
A Lesson That Sparked a Lifelong Passion
Long before sustainability became a mainstream movement, my visionary sixth-grade teacher introduced our class to the foundational principles of recycling. It was the 1960s, and the San Francisco Bay Area was leading the charge in innovative, community-driven efforts that would eventually shape national environmental policies. Her enthusiasm for stewardship and forward-thinking approach opened my eyes to the delicate balance of nature—and the responsibility we each hold in preserving it. That early influence ignited a lifelong commitment to sustainability, guiding both my personal choices and the eco-conscious philosophy behind my facial spa.
Years later, after relocating to Metro Atlanta, I turned my passion into action. I initiated a monthly neighborhood recycling pickup to support the Firefighters’ Aluminum Cans for Burned Children initiative. My involvement grew, and I became a contributing member of the City of Decatur’s early recycling task force, earning recognition as a “Superstar” for my efforts.
Recycling has always been a priority for me, and witnessing the unique approaches of different communities is inspiring. In Japan, for instance, recycling is deeply ingrained in daily life, with neighborhoods following meticulous collection schedules for specific materials. While we don’t yet have that level of structured convenience here, we do have outstanding alternatives. Sustainability is a journey we take together, with small, everyday actions making a meaningful impact.
One way to make a difference is through CHaRM (Center for Hard to Recycle Materials), a local nonprofit dedicated to keeping hazardous waste and hard-to-recycle items out of landfills and waterways. CHaRM simplifies the recycling process, offering an easy way to dispose of items that might otherwise contribute to environmental harm—from electronics and household goods to hazardous materials and everyday recyclables. With locations in Atlanta and Decatur, it provides a practical, accessible solution for those eager to make a lasting impact.
Taking small steps toward sustainability can be empowering. Whether it’s visiting CHaRM yourself or encouraging friends and family to recycle more, every effort adds up. Together, we can make mindful choices that protect our planet for future generations.
Backyard Birdwatching:
A Daily Ritual of Renewal and Presence
With so much of life happening in front of screens and packed schedules, I’ve found myself craving more time to simply notice what’s around me. Birdwatching in my garden has turned into one of the most peaceful parts of my day—not to identify every bird or keep a checklist, but to just observe. The rustle of wings, a quick dash of color, or the rise of a morning melody helps me slow down and settle in.
It’s surprising how much calm comes from those small moments. They draw me out of my own head and connect me with something steady and natural. No special gear, no set plan—just quiet minutes to look, listen, and be present. Beauty and balance often live in the simplest places, right outside the door. Familiar birds bring a kind of warmth I didn’t expect. There’s comfort in spotting the same cardinal on the fence or hearing sparrows’ soft chatter at the window. It reminds me I’m part of something continuous and alive. And sometimes it’s their personalities—playful, curious, determined—that shift my mood. These gentle interactions don’t just entertain; they nurture emotional balance, often setting the tone for how I move through the day. In fact, birdwatching has become a form of gentle recovery. A few minutes outside—with no phone, no expectations—steadies my breath and quiets my thoughts. Nature asks nothing but offers so much. That subtle reset helps me feel less reactive, more grounded. For me, it’s one of the easiest ways to manage stress.
Of all the birds I’ve watched, the Carolina Wren stands out. These little creatures are full of charm and purpose. One of the most endearing habits? The males build multiple nests, using bits of moss, twigs, and paper scraps and let the female choose the one she wants to raise her young. There’s something touching about that—an instinct to prepare several safe options and let her decide. I’ve seen these wrens nest in planters, porch corners, even coiled garden hoses. They’re resourceful, creative, and committed. Mating for life they stay close to home, often heard before they’re seen, their bold songs echoing through quiet mornings.
Their nesting, singing, and gentle routines mirror what I aim to cultivate in my own life: beauty built from everyday materials, care shown through presence, and small acts that create comfort and continuity. Birdwatching wasn’t something I planned; it simply unfolded and became a steady source of renewal. For anyone feeling overstimulated or stretched thin, I’d suggest just start by noticing. Nature doesn’t rush, compete, or demand—it simply welcomes us in. And sometimes, all it takes is stepping outside, noticing who flies by, and letting that be enough.