Category Archives: Nature

In A Winter Wonderland

In A Winter Wonderland

The winter is here, and there is snow.
I hope for a white Christmas this year.
It’s freezing; the temperature is low.
I want to go outside, but “No, no, no!”
I forgot my jacket, “Oh dear!”
The winter’s here, and there’s snow.
Through the windows I see Christmas trees that glow.
Now is the time of good wishes and cheer.
It’s freezing; the temperature is low.
The winter’s here, and there’s snow.
Sitting inside with hot chocolate, watching a holiday show.
For me, winter is nothing to fear.

By Neila Ebadian, age 11, Washington.

Four Poems by Mayank Yadav

Mother

Mother is the one who cares for me
She keeps me safe, like a big tree.
Her smile is soft, her heart is kind
She always has me on her mind.

SHE teaches me what is good and what’s bad
She is always with me when I’m sad.
God says he can’t be everywhere
So he gave me a mom who always cares and shares
Who helps me grow, layer by layer.

She is important because she loves me everyday
She teaches me what’s right in a simple way.
Sure, She scolds me a little
But she’s always with me when I’m ill.

You are useless if your mom becomes sad because of you
Mom is like a diamond, always cherish and know her value.

By Mayank Yadav, age 12, Jharkhand, India.

Student life

Student life is not easy at all,
Sometimes we rise, sometimes we fall.
We smile outside and try to be strong,
But inside we feel something is wrong.

We study hard day and night,
Still grades decide if we are “right.”
We get tired but don’t give up,
We keep trying and keep growing up.

Some days we feel happy and bright,
Some days we cry alone at night.
YET every day teaches us something new—
How to be brave, and how to push through.

Student life has pain and fear,
But also hope that keeps our heads above water.
One day all our hard work will matter,
And the world will see how far we can soar.

By Mayank Yadav, age 12, Jharkand, India.

A Middle-Class Family

We don’t have gold or cars so wide,
But we have love and joy inside.
Papa works hard from morning till night,
Mummy’s care makes everything right

School bag old, but dreams so high,
Wishing stars in a small sky.
We save, we share, we sometimes wait,
Still smile together, call it fate.

No big house or fancy ride,
But strong hearts walk side by side.
Festivals simple, but full of cheer,
Happiness grows when all are near.

We may not be rich in money or fame,
But middle-class love is never lame!

By Mayank Yadav, age 12, Jharkand, India.

Under the Water

Under the water, deep and wide,
Fish and turtles swim and glide.
Crabs walk slowly on the sand,
Jellyfish move like a magic band.
Octopus hides behind a rock,
Starfish sleeps near a sea-shell clock.
Dolphins jump and play all day,
In the ocean, far away.

Waves above and calm below,
Under the sea, the magic flows.
Seahorses float, so small and sweet,
Tiny shells lie near their feet.
Bright blue fish go zip and zoom,
Dancing gently in ocean’s room.
Come with me, let’s take a ride,
To the sea world, deep inside!

By Mayank Yadav, age 12, Jharkand, India. He lives in the Province of Jharkhand, in an extended family—with his father (Ranjan), mother (Kumari Sangita), older sister (Shreya Ranjan), grandfather (Kedarnath), and grandmother (Bina Devi).

One Earth

One Earth

We have a wonderful Earth
And we should try to preserve it
So more babies can be birthed
And introduced to our Earth
Our wonderful, wonderful, wonderful Earth
We have a beautiful Earth
With large, green grasslands and rainforests
And elegant blue oceans
With those always present sea-green waves
And filled with living beings to support
Our sweet, sweet Earth
There is much knowledge
Science, astronomy, mathematics
And they are just a small part of the knowledge
On our smart, smart Earth

Who knows what we can achieve?
All we know is we can go above and beyond
Who knows what more there is for us to discover?
Who knows how far we can go?
Let us keep on learning and understanding
And discovering new ways
To protect and preserve nature on
Our sweet, wonderful, beautiful Earth
Our dear, kind, gentle Earth
Our amazing, sustaining, ever-providing Earth
Our smart, dazzling, awesome Earth
Our Earth!

By Elodie K. Cotton, grade 7, Connecticut. Elodie is also our student intern.

In Defense of Dirt: Rewilding Our Children

In Defense of Dirt: Rewilding Our Children
Before their Bodies Forget

 From Finnish forest floors to Michigan creek beds, the science is clear:
real dirt is medicine, memory, and the immune system’s original teacher

By Thom Hartmann, author, speaker, activist, and educator

I grew up on the edge of Lansing, Michigan, with a stream just down the road and woods that felt like a secret frontier. We all did: the neighborhood kids, barefoot in the damp grass after rain, boots mucked up with creek-silt, hands scrubbed raw from climbing fallen logs and digging in the undergrowth. Getting in the dirt was part of childhood. We didn’t ask permission from microbes.

So when I read the recent report in The Guardian about Finnish nursery experiments transforming children’s health by simply letting them play in real soil, sand, leaves and forest-floor, I felt the past crash into the present and I knew again that the story of our species and our health lies in that innocent, messy contact.

In Finland, at a daycare center in Lahti (north of Helsinki), the researchers from the Natural Resources Institute of Finland adopted a radical experiment: rip out the asphalt, dig into the soil, roll out a live carpet of forest-floor moss and blueberry bushes, build compost heaps for children to feed, invite the kids to play, dig, muddle, get their hands in it.

The result, in a two-year study of three- to five-year-olds, was striking: children in the “rewilded” yards had fewer disease-causing skin bacteria (like Streptococcus) and showed stronger immune regulation (increased T-regulatory cells) within weeks. Gut microbiomes were healthier, inflammatory-associated Clostridium levels dropped.

This is the antithesis of today’s “modern” societal perspective on childhood and nature.

On the one hand, we have the modern obsession with pristine, sanitized lives: rubber-surfaced playgrounds, plastic mats, antibacterial everything. On the other, there’s the simple fact that our inner biology, our immune systems, our gut and skin microbiomes, were forged in the wild: the wild of forest floors, streams, soils, plants, bugs.

As I argued in my earlier essay “It’s All One Thing – The Story of the Worms” here in Wisdom School, our estrangement from that substrate is the seed of auto-immune disorders, of chronic inflammation, and a body that’s forgotten it’s actually part of nature.

In Michigan I was lucky: the woods and stream were mine for the exploring. I remember fingers crawling over moist logs, the smell of leaves turning, the damp cold run-off water slipping under my boots. I didn’t know at the time that those experiences were more than play: they were calibration.

They were training my immune system, teaching my skin and gut to know what nature looked like and smelled like and felt like. To know that dirt is not an enemy. And those childhood experiences are probably why I’ve never been troubled by autoimmune disorders or asthma.

So let’s call this what it is: a radical restoration. Not of some exotic wilderness, but of our lost contact with the natural microbial terrains that co-evolved with our species. The Finnish results are more than a Kindergarten trend; they’re a signal of what our children—and we all—are missing.

Here are some of the stakes:

  • When kids play in dirt rich with soil microbes, their immune system steps into a healthier balance: fewer disease-causing bacteria on the skin surface, greater regulation of internal immune responses.

  • The “outer layer” of biodiversity—soil, plants, forest floor—directly influences the “inner layer” of biodiversity in our bodies, our skin, gut, and airways. This is co-evolved, not incidental.

  • The modern shift away from exposure—to “sterile” play surfaces, indoor confinement, sanitized surfaces—may appear benign, but it’s been quietly shaping the epidemic rise of allergies, auto-immune disorders, and inflammatory diseases that both disturb the quality of life and can shorten lifespan itself.

  • This is not just personal wellness: it’s ecological and societal. The health of children, the immune burdens we carry, the resilience of future generations: all of this ties back to whether we let the next generation touch the living earth.

  • In the Finnish classroom yard they said: “We’re moving the action from inside to outside. We want to show the children nature so they learn about it.”

That sentence is packed. Show the children nature. Let them learn through contact, through play, through mess. Not as a museum piece, not as a “nature corridor” behind a fence, but as the ground they run on, dig in, climb across, whose bugs and fungus mix with theirs.

So, I want to issue a personal call to you—if you have children, nieces, nephews—or if you’re planning for grandchildren—or if you’re simply human, who used to feel the dirt under your fingernails and the creek cold on your shins—do this: Let the next generation get messy.

Plant a compost heap. Bring real soil into the sandbox. Create a border of moss and stones. Let the rain puddle, let the bugs crawl, let the children burrow. Let the forest floor not be exotic but ordinary.

I remember that stream down the road from the house I grew up in, the woods on the edge of Lansing, the sticky Michigan clay, the little fish, frogs, and crawdads under rocks, the mud mixing into water. I remember coming home with smudged socks, grass stains and a face kissed by sap.

I didn’t know at the time that I was feeding my immune system. I simply knew I was alive and it was a thrill.

We’ve forgotten that aliveness. Our culture has prized immaculateness, separation from the “dirty” wild, the exclusion of microbes like we exclude strangers. Yet the wildness is in us. The soil is in us. We’re made of the same living matrix as the tree roots and the beetles and the moss. Broken contact with that matrix isn’t harmless: it’s a literal loss.

In the wise old words I referenced in “It’s All One Thing”: “When we remove ourselves from that web of life, we do so at our own peril.”

The Finnish story is not just cute or scientific: it’s urgent. Rebuild our contact with the living earth. Let children scoop sand and soil, let them bury their hands, let them build mud-cakes like Aurora in Finland’s day-care. Laugh as they smear soil on their faces. It’s not chaos: it’s calibration.

Yes, modernization has brought us many gifts. Clean water. Sanitation. Vaccines. But modernization taken too far, with too much separation from our biological roots, leaves us with immune systems that misfire, bodies that mistake harmless soil microbes for threats, children who never taste actual dirt. The Finnish experiment is clear: get back to the soil, get back to the forest floor, get back to the messy, ordinary earth.

And the earth—our living earth—benefits too. More forest-floor carpets. More compost heaps. More kids playing outside, fewer rubber mats, fewer sterile boxes. We begin to treat biodiversity as not just glamorous (rainforests, coral reefs) but local (yard patches, old tree stumps, rain puddles). We begin to remember that our health is tied to the health of that biodiversity.

So my invitation to you: On your next weekend, find a patch of ground the kids (or you!) can mess with. Dig into it. Feel the soil. Let a leaf rot into the compost. Let worms do their work. Let the world pull you back. Because we’re not apart from nature: we are nature. And when we pretend otherwise, we hurt ourselves and the world around us.

It’s time to stop treating microbes as abstract threats or invisible villains. They are—and have always been—our companions, our allies, our ancestral family. The Finnish children’s laughter in the sandy forest-floor yard is our ancient laughter too.

Let’s dig in.

—Thom Hartmann, educator and commentator, is the author of many respected books. Reprinted with permission. To receive new Wisdom School posts you can become a free or paid subscriber of this reader-supported digital publication, The Wisdom School: What It Means To Be Human. All Wisdom School articles are free and available to everyone. Copyright by Thom Hartmann, 2025.

The Humane Hoax

The Humane Hoax: Animal Industry’s Labels and Lies

By Hope Bohanec, author and activist, Oregon

As consumers become aware of the animal agriculture industry’s cruelty and environmental impact, clever industry marketers adapt with “humane” labels, small-scale tall tales, and other feel-good falsehoods. The term “humane hoax” is defined as new language and labels in animal product marketing that convey a false narrative of humane treatment and sustainable management of farmed animal operations. The marketing language and euphemistic labels tell a story of a supposed distinction from conventional animal products. But the reality on the ground, in the manure pits, during the mechanical milking, and inside the terrifying slaughterhouse, is fundamentally unchanged, despite promises to consumers of something new. Humanewashing and greenwashing are becoming more prevalent and pervasive than ever.

Also encompassed in the concept of the humane hoax is the new trend of people attempting to “do-it-yourself” with backyard farmed animal raising and slaughtering, generally with good intentions, but all too often, with cruel consequences. It has never been more important to educate people on the truth behind the industry lies, and people are hungry for the truth.

Overview:

In the time since I wrote the first book on the subject of the humane hoax, called The Ultimate Betrayal: Is There Happy Meat?, consumer awareness of the suffering of farmed animals has grown exponentially and so has the “alternative” animal product industry. “Cage-free,” “Certified Humane,” and other comforting labels are no longer elusive—dusty items only seen in the back corners of health food stores. They are now as common and numerous as cattle on a feedlot, spotted in common places like Walmart and your local coffee shop. In 2010, eggs labeled cage-free were a mere four percent of the market; that had risen to sixteen percent by 2017. The industry predicts that to meet consumer demand, cage-free production will be seventy-five percent of the market by 2026.

It is a hopeful sign that consumers are demanding better treatment for animals, but the actual difference in the life and death experience for a cow or a chicken with humane labeling is sadly minimal. I have done extensive research on this issue, interviewed numerous stakeholders, and personally visited multiple animal operations, and concluded that these unregulated labels mean very little, if anything at all, for the animal’s experience. I have examined this particular area of farmed animal advocacy, having written the first, and one of the only books on the topic, and having been professionally involved in the field for over two decades. I found, for example, that comparing hens confined in battery cages to those in cage-free barns bodes only slight improvements and those differences can vary widely from farm to farm.

Animal activists have time and again exposed the horrors of egg-laying hens crammed tightly in battery cages, with only the space comparable to a crowded elevator to live in. In response, the shrewd marketers representing the egg industry have distorted the story, altered the labels, and changed consumers’ conceptions. Instead of rejecting the inherent cruelty of commercial egg production, shoppers have been deceived by the fictitious choice of a seemingly “humane” alternative of “cage-free”—but the reality for the birds, however, is bleak.

The difference in the experience of a bird in a conventionally managed operation versus a cage-free one is negligible. Despite the optimistic label, most chickens in cage-free egg facilities still live in miserable overcrowded conditions in massive windowless buildings. Their eyes and throats burn from the ammonia gas released from their accumulated waste. They never feel the sun on their wings or experience a simple satisfying dust bath. Irrespective of any label, all the chickens still go to a brutal slaughter at a very young age. We must not let the deception of “new” marketing eclipse the fundamental cruelty of animal agriculture. The perception invoked by the “cage-free” label—that the birds are now living a good life—is a decidedly false one, a mirage created by the interaction of euphemisms and consumer hopes in the absence of accurate information.

As animal agribusiness attempts to wash the blood off its hands with a new fabrication of fresh farming methods, consumers, activists, and other caring people must educate themselves about the new narratives that the industry continues to weave. This anthology features a range of knowledgeable authors who are at the forefront of this marketing shift, chronicling every aspect with in-depth analyses and intellectual rigor. Among other topics, the book explores how so-called alternative animal agriculture intersects with feminism, affects the environment, is represented in the media, and impacts human and non-human communities alike.

On Contributors to the Anthology:

This anthology has an impressive list of contributing writers who are a diverse assortment of activists, academics, authors, and campaigners. They range from radical protesters to educating advocates to professional scholars in the academy. Of the seventeen expert contributors, eight are published authors, five leaders of advocacy organizations, eight have Ph.D. degrees, and three have masters. What they all share is a forward-thinking vision and common concerns with animal agriculture’s marketing shift from big to small, from industrial to local.

The Humane Hoax contains essays by noted animal rights and environmentalism figures like Carol Adams, Robert Grillo, Sailesh Rao, Karen Davis, and Christopher “Soul” Eubanks. Some of the contributors have done extensive peer-reviewed research on the subject while others have been working with farmed animal advocacy for decades thinking deeply about this issue. Still others are rescuing farmed animals directly from local and small-scale farms, witnessing first-hand the undeniable suffering that is commonplace in animal farming.

The Humane Hoax: Essays Exposing the Myth of Happy Meat, Humane Dairy, and Ethical Eggs; edited by Hope Bohanec. The book is available as a paperback and also as an e-book from Lantern Publishing & Media; lanternpm.org.

The Silent Conversation Between You and Your Bones

The Silent Conversation Between You and Your Bones

Every Impact Is a Message: Stay Alive, Stay Strong, Stay in Motion

 By Thom Hartmann, Wisdom School

As Louise and I have aged (our 54th wedding anniversary is in two weeks), we’ve noticed that one of the biggest challenges is keeping our posture straight and our bones from getting brittle. There’s science behind this challenge, and it gives us all suggestions for “keeping young.” 

Bone is one of the few tissues in the human body that remains alive and dynamic from birth to death. It’s not the rigid, inert structure most people imagine when they think of skeletons. In fact, it’s constantly growing, dying, dissolving, and rebuilding itself through a delicate dance between two main kinds of cells—osteoblasts and osteoclasts. 

This balance is what keeps us upright, protects our organs, and allows our muscles to move us through life. But as we get older, the harmony between building and breaking begins to shift, and the results can be devastating. Understanding how that process happens—and how we might slow or reverse it—is one of the quiet frontiers of aging science.

Bone is built primarily by osteoblasts, the construction workers of our skeleton. They take raw materials—calcium, phosphate, and collagen—and create new bone matrix. This matrix starts out soft, like scaffolding, then mineralizes into the hard tissue we recognize as bone. Opposing them are osteoclasts, which act more like demolition crews. They dissolve old or damaged bone so it can be replaced. 

In a healthy adult, these two systems are in balance: every bit of bone that’s broken down is replaced by new bone. But that balance depends on a complex interplay of hormones, mechanical stress, and nutrients that becomes harder to maintain with age.

When we’re young, our bodies prioritize growth and repair. Hormones like growth hormone, estrogen, and testosterone all signal bone-building cells to stay active and reproduce. Even the act of moving—walking, climbing stairs, carrying groceries—tells our bones to stay strong. 

Osteoblasts thrive on impact; they literally sense mechanical stress and respond by building more bone where it’s needed. That’s why astronauts lose bone density in zero gravity and bedridden patients lose it quickly in immobilized limbs. Bones are designed for stress. They grow from it, adapt to it, and depend on it.

But aging quietly changes the equation. By the time most people reach their 40s or 50s, osteoblasts start slowing down while osteoclasts keep right on working. Estrogen and testosterone, which protect against bone loss, begin to drop. In women, the sharp decline in estrogen during menopause often leads to an acceleration of bone loss so dramatic it can reach one to two percent per year. 

The result is a net thinning of the bones that can culminate in osteopenia or osteoporosis. What’s more, osteoblasts themselves become less responsive to mechanical stress and less efficient at mineralizing new bone, while their numbers dwindle with each passing decade.

Yet, there’s another layer to this story that is both hopeful and cautionary. Bone cells are not fixed in number; they arise from progenitor cells—stem-like precursors in the bone marrow and periosteum (the thin tissue surrounding bones). These progenitor cells can, under the right conditions, become new osteoblasts. 

Exercise, especially high-impact weight-bearing exercise, stimulates their differentiation. Nutrients like vitamin D, calcium, and magnesium fuel the process. Even exposure to sunlight, through its effect on vitamin D synthesis, plays a critical role in signaling these cells to mature. In a very real sense, every step we take outdoors in the sunshine is a small act of bone regeneration.

On the other hand, disuse and a sedentary lifestyle send the opposite message. When bones aren’t stressed, the progenitor cells shift toward becoming fat cells instead of bone cells, and osteoclasts take over the stage. 

This explains why modern sedentary living, coupled with diets low in essential minerals, has created an epidemic of bone fragility even among people who think of themselves as healthy. 

It also explains why impact—whether from walking, jumping, or resistance training—isn’t just good for muscle tone; it’s a direct message to your bones to stay alive.

There’s a growing body of research exploring how bone regeneration might be enhanced as we age. Some of it focuses on pharmacological ways to stimulate osteoblast activity or block osteoclast overactivity, like the bisphosphonate drugs or parathyroid hormone analogs now used for osteoporosis. Others look at stem cell therapies that could replenish the aging pool of bone-forming cells. 

But many of the most effective tools we already possess are natural. Regular resistance training, adequate protein intake, and maintaining proper levels of vitamin D and K2 can have profound effects on bone density. The simple act of impact—bones striking the ground, muscles tugging on tendons, joints bearing weight—remains the single most powerful way to keep bones young.

The idea that bone “knows” when it’s being used and responds accordingly is one of nature’s most elegant feedback loops. It means that our skeleton is not a fixed thing but a living organ that senses and adapts to our behavior. 

When we stop moving, bones interpret it as a signal that they’re no longer needed and begin to fade away. When we challenge them, they thicken, harden, and renew themselves. Even in old age, this feedback loop can be reawakened, though the gains are slower and more fragile than in youth.

In the larger metaphor of life, bone regeneration is a quiet but powerful reminder of resilience. Every day, millions of microscopic breaks form in our skeleton, and every day they are healed. It’s a never-ending cycle of destruction and renewal that mirrors our emotional and spiritual lives. The same principle applies: stress and impact, handled well, make us stronger. Avoiding stress entirely—physical or emotional—leads to a kind of decay. Growth comes from the right kind of pressure.

So while supplements and science continue to explore the biochemical angles of bone regeneration, the most profound lesson may be a behavioral one. Move every day. Load your bones. Walk, climb, stretch, lift, push. 

Feel the impact of your feet on the ground, because your bones are listening. They respond to every signal of life you send them, even late into old age. They want to grow. They’re built to grow. But they require our participation—the literal weight of our will—to keep doing it. 

In the end, strong bones are not just the foundation of our physical structure but the embodiment of our relationship with gravity, effort, and resilience itself.

—Thom Hartmann, educator and commentator, is the author of many respected books. Reprinted with permission. To receive new posts you can become a free or paid subscriber of this reader-supported digital publication, The Wisdom School: What it Means to be Human, where all articles are free and available to everyone. Copyright: Thom Hartmann, 2025.

 

 

Elegy for the Fragile Universe

Elegy for the Fragile Universe

By William Pan, grade 7, Washington.

How will the world end?
Will it end with alien settlers
from another galaxy?

Or will it be our own
war-torn fault, the world’s
sparkling Hawaiian sunsets

and buzzing Chinese streets
melting and emptying
any number of ways? Now

that Earth has warmed
like sand condensing
into a fragile universe

of glass, we are sturdy
yet fragile. We scowl before
we embrace. We pray

between arguments while saving
the world. Will we have to
flee this green haven? Will we

have to ribbon our faith
into the carbonated air? Or
shall we fit another

planet more to our liking?
Is any of this needed
to save us? Will this stop us

from existing, or can we stop
ourselves? Whether the world dies
or not, we must

cherish what we have—
whether the world succumbs
to bots or we continue

to laugh at movies
and jokes with each day

—William Pan, grade 7, Washington. He writes: “I wrote (this poem) because I realized that we need to unite to stop climate change from ruining our world… I have written many poems and short memoirs that explore culture and family. I am drawn to poetry because I can play with language and build imaginative worlds that enable me to explore things I can’t explore in the real world.” William has recently joined us as one of our student interns.”

The Little Princess and the Colorful Butterflies

The Little Princess and the Colorful Butterflies

By Diponkar Chanda, Ontario, Canada

No one remembered the name of the kingdom anymore, but it did exist, a long ago!

Far, far away, nestled close to a forest, there was a tiny village, and it was the seat of this kingdom. There was a palace as well; but not like the ones in our big cities.

This palace was very different. Its walls were made of straw and clay, it had a thatched roof, and it stood gently beneath the sky, like a well-kept secret.

In this palace lived a little princess with her ancient grandmother.

One sunny morning in spring, when a sweet breeze was blowing, birds were chirping joyfully, and flowers bloomed in every corner of the yard, the little princess woke up.

She rubbed her eyes, looked out the window, and noticed something—their little walls didn’t seem as colorful as the world outside.

The trees wore fresh green dresses. The flowers in the meadows sparkled with red, yellow, pink, and purple. Even the butterflies danced in colors—too bright and too many to name them here!

Pale Swallowtail Butterfly. Photo by Herb Everett, Oregon.

Monarch Butterfly. Photo by Ted Rose, Indiana.

The princess longed to bring those colors into their home, their palace.

And she knew, like everyone else in the kingdom, that the true owners of all the colors were those beautiful butterflies.

So, the little princess wanted to catch one. But she was far too little.

Art by Makayla Liu, age 12, Vancouver, Canada.

No one else was home, so she turned to her granny. Now, her granny was like eighty or a hundred years old, or maybe even more. Nobody really knew how old she was. She was the oldest person in the whole kingdom. And, she was certainly far too old to run after those butterflies!

What could they do?

The old woman thought for a moment. Then she searched the hut carefully—every corner, every pouch, every pot.

Finally, she found something she was searching for, a little fistful of sunflower seeds. She smiled.

Granny stepped outside into the wide, sleepy yard. With her slow, gentle feet, she planted the seeds in tidy rows and began to care for them. She watered them every day, with all the love in her heart.

Days passed. Little by little, green shoots appeared. Then leaves. Then came tall, strong stems.

And then one morning, a thousand sunflowers bloomed across the yard—each one like a small sun, shining with golden joy.

Granny didn’t need to chase butterflies anymore.

The butterflies came to them—fluttering, dancing, and painting the air with their beautiful colors.

And you know what?

They shared their colors generously. And from then, true beauty arouse on the boundless canvas of nature—born from careful sharing.

And the little palace also sparkled with butterfly colors—reds, oranges, blues, and purples that no brush could ever copy.

Not just the tiny palace, but also the little princess herself sparkled with those attractive colors.

Her smile shone with every color of the butterflies.

And from that day on, little princess learned that true beauty grows many-fold when we share it with everyone, with profound care.

Diponkar Chanda is an emerging writer based in greater Toronto area of Canada. Originally from Bangladesh, he writes stories and poetry that bridge cultures, languages, and imagination. English is not his first language, and he brings the rhythm and depth of his native Bangla (also known as the Bengali) language into his storytelling.

Art by Makayla Liu, age 12, Vancouver, Canada. She adds: “I’ve loved drawing since I was a child, and in the future I hope to work in a field related to drawing or character design.”

The 2025 Weather Photographers of the Year

The 2025 Weather Photographers of the Year Winners

The Royal Meteorological Society (of the United Kingdom) has announced the winners of this year’s Standard Chartered Weather Photographer of the Year Competition. In their tenth year of the competition, they received over 4,000 images from both amateur and professional photographers in 84 countries. You can view details by clicking the Winners’ Galleries on Royal Meteorological Society website.

The Main Category
Winner: Geshuang Chen and Shuchang Dong, for their photo: “The Gorgeous Ring” on Lugu Lake, Yunnan Province, P. R. China.

Runner Up:  Jadwiga Piasecka, from the UK, for her photo: “Eunice III,” an image from a sheltered place out of reach of the storm in Newhaven, on the south coast of the U. K., where winds were gusting at over 80 miles per hour. The photographer wrote: “From my vantage point, I watched enormous waves battling against the sea wall, sending dramatic sprays of water high into the air…highlighting just how immense the storm’s fury truly was.”

The Mobile Category
Winner: Kyaw Zay Yar Lin, from Myanmar. Photo: “Fishing in the Raining Season.” The photo captures the urgent feeling of being caught in a sudden downpour. The motion blur of both the fishermen and the rain make the viewer feel part of the action, caught in the sudden intensity of a tropical storm.
Runner Up: Tamás Kusza, from Slovakia, Photo: “Path to the Heart of the Storm”

The Young Category
Winner: Adrian Cruz, from the US, Photo: “Eruption of the Sky,” captured from a passenger plane flying between Washington DC, and Orlando, Florida. The photo reveals a spectacular view of a thunderstorm cloud glowing pink against a deepening blue sky.
Runner up: Ellen Ross, from the US, Photo: “Clear Skies Ahead.”

The Climate Category
New to this year’s competition was the Climate Category, created to underscore the connection between weather patterns and the broader impacts of climate change, illustrating how these global shifts impact businesses, people and communities.
Winner: Jonah Lange, from the US. Photo: “West Texas Special.”
Climate change is amplifying extremes, turning open landscapes into arenas for even more volatile and destructive weather. Drought conditions in West Texas are becoming more frequent and severe, drying out the soil and increasing the availability of loose dust.
Runner Up: Maria del Pilar Trigo Bonnin, of the Philippines, for: “Heading Home.” Typhoon Rai (locally named Odette) tore across Siargao Island, Philippines, in December 2021. Maria took this photo from the back of another motorbike as they made their way through the devastation.

You can visit the Winners’ Galleries on the Royal Meteorological Society’s website.

Taking Care of North Dakota

Taking Care of North Dakota

By Yusuf Dean, 13, North Dakota.

Moving to Harvey, North Dakota felt…different.

I was so used to the bustling streets of Orlando and the nearly constant sound of cars, that in North Dakota everything seemed peaceful and quiet by contrast. Rolling hills for miles around, and only the sound of your car on the highway. Now, Having lived here for almost seven years, I can say that the peaceful and pristine image of North Dakota was nothing but a facade.

The majority of the middle and high school boys here always talk about their big, gas-guzzling trucks, diesel combines, and other farm equipment. They also talk about semis (tractor-trailers) and whether Peterbilt or Volvo is better. My preference for smaller and more fuel-efficient vehicles amuses them.

During recess, a big, loud pickup might rumble by, belching black exhaust, and one of my friends will say, “How’s that smoke treatin’ ya?” It annoys me because, well, they’re just trying to provoke me. Plus, most of the people in my community are totally fine with high fuel emissions and polluting the environment, and they dismiss the fact that these things are contributing to climate change as untrue and silly. I’m pretty good at putting on a neutral mask, but really, when they make comments like this, I’m fuming inside.

One time, my friend Bentley and I were going on a bike ride, so I told him to meet me at my dad’s house. When I met him in our driveway, the garage door was open. Bentley saw my dad’s Mazda CX-90 and said, “That’s a nice looking car!”

“Thanks,” I said.

“Is it an EV?”

“Um…”

“Hybrid?”

“Yeah, it’s a hybrid.”

Bentley rolled his eyes. “Bruh.”

“What?”

“I like it and don’t like it at the same time.”

I instantly knew why. Any car that used any amount of electricity to move was definitely not his type.

“Come on, Bentley,” I said.

“What? It’s a freaking hybrid. No one likes those.”

I clenched my fists. I absolutely hate when someone makes a blanket statement or speaks in absolutes when they’re expressing an opinion that might not be as popular outside of Harvey. “Maybe not anyone here, but I’ve seen countless hybrids and even fully electric cars in places other than NORTH DAKOTA!!!”

In the U.S., the deaths of around 200,000 people each year are linked to poor air quality. If people don’t put in an effort to reduce their carbon footprint, our health and our climate will suffer. Many people in North Dakota think that their gas-guzzling vehicles are better and that EVs are just piles of junk metal with batteries in them that pollute the environment. What they don’t see is that humanity as a whole has to work together to change our transportation system and energy production system; they think that the idea of one’s personal choices helping fight climate change is futile. They are, in part, correct, but not for the reasons they think they are.

The greatest damage being done is not by individuals, but by huge fossil fuel companies, one of them being an oil company based right here in North Dakota. Marathon, the world’s 22nd-largest oil producer (based on 2022 data), is the seventh-largest emitter of greenhouse gas emissions in the oil and gas industry. This means that they are emitting way more greenhouse gases than they should be. Owing to Marathon’s carelessness, Fort Berthold Reservation, right here in North Dakota, has seen several crude oil spills due to broken pipelines that pollute the air and water, and flaming does not completely eliminate the harmful gas emissions produced by the oil.[1] North Dakotans are perfectly capable of showing empathy to their community, so they should not be okay with this.

In fifth grade, Bentley was my best friend. We’d hang out together, go to the pool together, but most importantly, he played a huge role in helping me through my parents’ divorce. He is one of the few kids in my class whose biological parents were separated. He empathized with me and gave me a few tips on what to do in certain situations, like when my parents were fighting, but most of the time, he was just there for me.

Following the pandemic, it was my first year of in-person school since second grade, and I didn’t have any friends. My parents were almost always arguing, and of course, I couldn’t talk to my brother—he was just four! One morning, my dad had shouted at me for forgetting to wash my face, which really hurt my feelings. I knew I’d have to bottle it all up before I got to school because I didn’t want to attract too much attention.

When I got to school, I took a deep breath and went inside to see a large curtain in the corner of the commons area where the seventh-grade boys liked to hang out before class started. I went behind the curtain and there was Bentley; I sat down, put my head in my knees, and started to cry.

“Yusuf, are you okay, bro?” Bentley asked.

“I’m fine.” I said, tears rolling down my face.

“Did your dad say something?”

“Bentley, it’s fine!” I said.

“I’m texting your mom,” he said as he opened his messages app.

I perked up, wiped my face with my sleeve and swiped at his phone, knocking it out of his hand. I put my head in between my knees again and my breath quickened.

He embraced my curled body in a hug, my heartbeat slowed, and the tears on my face began to dry.

We are humans, and we should always help our fellow humans in their time of need. If people here in North Dakota—good people like Bentley—took pride in a cleaner environment and the strength to take on a huge company like Marathon Oil, not only would people on the Fort Berthold Reservation be safer, but we could be proud that North Dakota is a state that takes care of its own.

By Yusuf Dean, age 13, North Dakota. He adds: “I live in the U.S. with my brother and my two Sri Lankan immigrant parents. I don’t speak Sinhalese, but I speak a bit of Spanish as my second language. I value curiosity, especially in children, because it is, in my opinion, the driving force behind learning and ultimately being successful in life. When I moved to North Dakota from Florida seven years ago, I found that while it was very different from the city life I was used to, there were some similarities. My essay is a reflection on one of the sources of tension I’ve encountered in my North Dakota community.”

[1]  Marathon Oil and EPA reach $241 million settlement over Clean Air Act violations in North Dakota | PBS News