Category Archives: Nature

Chambered Nautilus Paintings

Chambered Nautilus Paintings

The Chambered Nautilus Dimensions of Our Lives

By Dennis Rivers, Oregon

“You are not a drop in the ocean. You are the entire ocean in a drop.”
—Rumi.

In the course of my lifetime of stumbling and struggling through meditation, study, prayer and ecological activism, I have become convinced of one thing:  We are part of something much larger than ourselves, a living presence that supports us, constrains us, and calls to us. That Presence provides us with breath, light, food and a million companions, and also yearns to receive back from us something profound —a response, a conversation. I keep on thinking that the something given back out of gratitude must be more that the perpetual wars and oppression that have raged around the world most of my life.

Neils Bohr (Danish Nobel prize-winning physicist and philosopher) once observed that the opposite of an ordinary truth is a falsehood, but the opposite of a great truth is often another great truth. It is a great truth of human life that we each need to develop our abilities as deeply as we possibly can. It is also a great truth of human life that we need to honor and nurture the webs of life, people, lands and seas around us, in widening circles. I am convinced that the more powerful we become with new technologies, the more deeply true both the above truths become. In the dream geometry of the Chambered Nautilus paintings below, I experience a celebration of our infinite interwovenness, a celebration of our complex developmental journeys, and a celebration of the One Life that holds us all.

I am totally convinced that…
The deeper the ugliness we intend
to confront and mend in the world around us,
the deeper the beauty
we need to carry within us.

As you seek to mend
the wounds of this world,
may you bring beautiful new light
into every room your enter!

To download these pdf images, please click on the poster titles below.

Dreams of the Sea #1102

Dream Geometry Study

Dreams of the Sea #4

By Dennis Rivers, created with the assistance of artificial intelligence, Oregon. Dennis is our volunteer webmaster. Dennis created these paintings (with help from AI) to inspire people to see the world around them with new eyes, a world in which greed and war were no longer needed. He feels that these images carry wisdom from Mother Galaxy. He writes, “I love the infinite-spiral-speaking to-us-from-another-dimension feeling that they offer.”

Dennis has offered these images as free posters with inspiring messages, rather than as traditional over-the-couch wall art pieces. He is excited about the Public Domain—Belongs to Everyone—aspect of this project. You may also visit his website, EarthPrayer.net. 

 

The Mangonomy

The Mangonomy: Celebrating the Mango Economy

By Satish Kumar, Editor Emeritus, Resurgence, U.K.

Satish Kumar, originally from India, is an author, editor, educator, and a world traveler. He lives in the United Kingdom. Photo by Daniel Elkan.

The economy of Nature is regenerative, resilient, abundant and cyclical. Nature produces no waste. In a forest there are no waste bins!

Take for example a mango tree and mango fruit. We invest one single seed in the soil, what I call the Earth Bank. Then there is slow but steady growth. That seed collaborates with the Sun, soil and rain, as well as pollinating bees and orchard keepers, and slowly it becomes a beautiful tree.

Within a few years that tree produces hundreds of magnificent mangoes, not just for one year, but year after year for forty to fifty years. What an amazing return! Each mango is delicious, nutritious, nourishing, fragrant, sweet, healthy, and beautiful to look at. The juicy and tasty flesh is packaged in a soft skin that can be composted to feed the soil. No waste, no pollution, and no plastic packaging. A mango tree gives oxygen in the daytime (which we humans need) and absorbs carbon dioxide for its own nourishment. What a great miracle!

The mango tree and the mango fruit are beautiful, useful, and durable. Artists take pleasure in painting them, photographers take photos, and poets are inspired to compose poems about them. 

Each mango has a seed within it. The one seed that we planted a few years ago has now multiplied into hundreds of seeds! Eventually from one original seed we can create a whole new orchard. No scarcity of seeds. No need to buy seeds. This is the ‘mangonomy’ of abundance.

The mango tree teaches us the importance of generosity and equality. A king or a beggar, a saint or a sinner, a priest or a prisoner, a human or an animal, a bird or a wasp—everyone is welcome to enjoy and to be fed by mangoes.

Never will a mango tree ask you, “Have you come with your credit card?” Everyone is welcome to have mangoes. No discrimination, no judgement, and no money is needed as far as the tree itself is concerned.

A mango tree needs no fossil fuels, no electricity, no wind turbines, no solar panels, and no batteries. It only takes passive solar energy, which is in constant supply. A mango orchard requires no factory floors, no concrete construction, and no infrastructure. Mango trees are self-sufficient, self-managed, and self-contained.

A mango tree gives more than mangoes. It provides branches for birds to nest in. It provides cool shade in hot summer for people and animals to rest, and firewood in a cold winter. At the end of its life mango wood is made into objects of daily use. A mango tree comes from the earth and returns to the earth. During its lifetime it benefits other species and does no harm to anyone.

This is a perfect economy. We humans need to be humble and learn from mango trees in particular, and Nature in general. I have chosen the mango tree to illustrate my point. But this is true of all the fruit trees and shrubs, grains and vegetables, herbs and flowers, and Nature in her entirety. 

Can any factory or industrial plant produce something as beautiful and beneficial, as good and harmless, as valuable and pleasing as a mango? Industrialists, business leaders and politicians talk about ‘the economy.’  But hardly anyone knows or understands the true meaning of economy. Economy is made of two Greek words: oikos and nomos. Oikos means ‘home,’ and nomos means ‘management.’ In the wisdom of Greek philosophers, the entire ecosystem is our home, and management of the ecosystem is the true economy.

But our modern economists, industrialists, businesspeople and politicians are not managing ecosystems. Instead, they are managing balance sheets, business plans, profitability, industrial production, and money supply. This is not the true economy. This is the ‘moneynomy:’  the management of money. They appear to treat ecosystems and Nature as a ‘commodity,’ a resource for financial gain, a means to the end of making money. Moneynomy is misnamed as economy, but, if the truth be told, moneynomy is anti-economy!

A PERFECT ECONOMY

Governments around the world agree on one thing:  economic growth! Whether a government is capitalist, socialist or communist, whether it is Hindu, Muslim, Christian, Buddhist or atheist, they all have one common goal, and that is the goal of economic growth. All countries live under the dictatorship of the moneynomy. This is not true growth in terms of a true economy. The growth they seek is growth in moneynomy.

In Nature’s true economy or mangonomy there are two types of growth:  vertical growth and horizontal growth. In vertical growth there is an optimum limit. A mango tree on average will grow to become thirty to fifty feet tall and then stop growing. An animal will grow to a certain limited height and then stop growing. A human being will not generally grow much beyond six feet. This is sustainable vertical growth. Then there is horizontal growth. Here we have much more flexibility. Forests, farms, and mango groves are not so limited in horizontal growth. 

The mangonomy is decentralized and widely distributed. No concentration of millions of mangoes on one tree!

LONG-TERM WELLBEING

So-called economic growth is vertical. The rich get richer and richer. There is no limit. Financial wealth concentrates in fewer and fewer hands. Extremely rich individuals of this world pursue vertical growth. Corporations like Amazon, Google and Apple also have vertical growth. For them enough is never enough.

Five to ten countries out of approximately two hundred have much higher economic growth, even though within these rich countries large numbers of people have a very low income and a low standard of living. Many people live in slums, and many are begging in the streets of rich countries. Such economic growth or money growth is largely vertical, without any benefit to a large number of people, and in the long run economic growth of this type also creates growth in pollution, waste and carbon emissions, which are all harmful to planet Earth. 

If we want the long-term wellbeing of the human race and the health of our precious planet, we need to shift our obsession with money management and focus instead on the proper management of ecosystems. Money should be simply a means to an end, the end being both human and planetary wellbeing. That will be the true economy! And the economy needs to be circular—what comes from the Earth goes back to the Earth. Minimum waste, minimum pollution, and minimum carbon emissions.

We can all learn this from a mango tree. Long live the mangonomy!

By Satish Kumar, Editor Emeritus of Resurgence Magazine based in Devon, United Kingdom. Satish is the author of many books, including Soil, Soul, Society and Radical Love, available from www.resurgence.org/shop

Note: This article was first published in Resurgence & Ecologist Issue 349, March/April 2025. All rights to this article are reserved to The Resurgence Trust and author. To buy a copy of the magazine, read further articles or find out about the Trust, visit: www.resurgence.org

 

Here and There with Every Bear

Here and There with Every Bear

By Sara wael, age 14, Al Ain, U.A.E.

Bears by Daemion Lee, Oregon.

Bears here, bears there,
bears are found everywhere!
Let’s take a trip to meet them all,
Who’s your favorite bear of all?

First, we visit the panda bear,
Found in forests deep and rare.
They love to munch on fresh bamboo,
And nap around the whole day through.
They tumble, roll, and sometimes share,
Pandas are the playful bears!

Ready for more? Let’s move along,
To places chilly, wild, and strong!

Then we go where the weather snows,
And icy wind forever blows.
There we meet the polar bears,
Fishing for food and swimming in pairs.
White and tough with icy stares,
Polars are the coolest bears!

Keep the pace, there’s more to see,
The forest calls to you and me!

Soon we find a grizzly bear, tall,
Roaming the forest, proud and strong
Eating honey with a mighty swish,
Their claws are sharp, their steps are swift.
With watchful eyes and steady care,
Grizzlies are the protective bears!

Quiet now, don’t make a peep,
Moon bears rest where midnight sweeps!

Found at night in forests deep,
Where moonlight glows and shadows sleep.
There we meet the moon bears, shy,
Peeking up at the starry sky.
With quiet steps and gentle glares,
Moon bears are the mysterious bears!

Under stars, our journey’s bright,
Next comes bears with eyes of night!

Found beneath the northern skies,
With beauty bright in golden eyes.
There we meet the black bears, bold,
Clever, curious, and never cold.
With black, brown and soft dark hair,
Black bears are the boldest bears!

Now let’s explore the mountains high,
Where secret bears are passing by!

Hidden in the southern clouds,
In mountains deep, special and proud.
They wander alone in quiet steps,
And eat wild fruits on jungle treks.
They’re quiet, sweet, and very aware,
Andeans are the special bears!

Off we go, you’re almost there,
To meet a bear with shaggy hair.

Seen in grasslands climbing trees,
Their tongues stretch out with skill and ease.
They feast on bugs with great delight,
They sleep by day and wake at night.
They’re gentle, sweet, and beyond compare,
Sloth bears are the caring bears.

Now for last, the smallest one,
Our bear adventure’s almost done!

Finally, we meet the smallest bear,
Cute and sweet, with gentle care.
Found in tropics, bold and bright,
Resting deep through day and night.
With honey dreams and silly stares,
Sun bears are the cutest bears!

Bears here, bears there, bears live everywhere!
Let’s keep them safe with all our care.
From forests deep to mountains high,
They need our help to thrive, not die.
So show some love, be bold, be fair,
Who’s your favorite bear out there?

—Sara Wael, United Arab Emirates. She adds: “My name is Sara, and I’m 14 years old. I live in the U.A.E. in a city called Al Ain. I wrote this poem (which I hope to publish as a book someday) to help spread awareness about endangered bears and to shine a light on bear species that many people don’t know much about. I hope this poem inspires others to learn more about these amazing animals, their habitats, and just how important they are to our world.”

Our Personal Food Choices Affect Our Community

Our Personal Food Choices Affect our Community

By Hope Bohanec, Oregon.

The current tumultuous political climate has left many in our community feeling powerless and vulnerable. Amidst immediate concerns like climate disasters, declining health and well-being, and rampant injustices, we are now confronted with the reality that relying on government or legislation to effect positive change in the near future is likely futile. However, there are choices we can make and daily actions we can take to alleviate suffering, support the planet, and nurture our bodies. Eugene has been a hub for community-led action and we have been at the forefront of embracing vegetarianism, veganism, and eco-conscious lifestyles. It’s vital that we collectively work to amplify this progress on a grassroots level to effect the necessary changes for our survival on planet Earth. Personal choices hold immense power, and one of the most significant choices we can make every day, that impacts numerous aspects of our lives, is the food we choose to buy, cook, share, and eat.

Many people agree that our food system is broken and that it harms workers, animals, and the environment. As more people wake up to animal exploitation, the epidemic of degenerative disease, the climate crisis, and other negative impacts of animal derived foods, veganism offers a solution. At its core, vegan living is an economic boycott of a cruel, unsustainable, and harmful industry. However, vegan philosophy transcends this to also encompass a social justice strategy for a just, global food system as well as a profound appeal for nonviolence and compassion for all animals with whom we share this planet. Vegan living helps to considerably reduce one’s climate footprint, promotes fairness for those lacking access to healthy foods, and can help us potentially avert the next pandemic—just by extending our compassion to all sentient beings. Veganism reminds us just how political food is.

The damage that is being done to our planet is an imminent threat to our collective survival. Scientific research overwhelmingly demonstrates that producing food from animals has a significantly greater environmental impact compared to producing food from plants with equivalent dietary value. These studies consistently show that, regardless of the production method or product label, plant-based foods repeatedly require less water, energy, and fossil fuels and generate substantially fewer greenhouse gas emissions than comparable calories of meat, dairy, and eggs. We are experiencing this damaging effect in Eastern Oregon with nitrate-laden drinking water caused primarily by animal agriculture. Eating plant-based is eating planet-based.

Experts agree that we need both systemic and individual behavior change to support a global transition to plant-based diets to mitigate climate disasters and alleviate numerous other impacts of animal agribusiness. While working to create systemic change is crucial—it’s incredibly challenging and agonizingly slow. Individual actions that support and demand these larger shifts can happen now, today, with your next meal.

Having been vegan for 35 years, I have witnessed the remarkable progress we’ve made in a relatively short period of time. In just a couple of decades, we have seen plant-based milks become common at coffee shops, most every restaurant menu offering vegan options, and countless cruelty-free products in grocery stores. This progress was made because of individuals standing up against injustice and making compassionate choices. Every day, I am inspired to reclaim our agency and harness the collective power of our plates, palates and pockets. Together, we can continue to dismantle oppressive dairy, poultry, and meat production and marketing systems of violence and alleviate immense suffering.

Plant-based is the global future of food, and it starts locally. About 1,500 people came together for the first ever Eugene VeganFest on Sunday, May the 4th. This celebration of compassionate community in Eugene, Oregon featured 45 vendor booths offering a wide variety of non-animal focused offerings like delicious plant-based foods, animal sanctuaries for rescued animals in need, and eco-forward products that help heal our planet. Fifteen speakers gave well-attended presentations on various topics revealing the ethical and environmental reasons to be vegan as well as focusing on the health and nutritional advantages of a plant-based diet. Everyone was welcome—veg-curious, pre-vegans, heck-no-I-could-never-be-vegans, and vegans alike! People came and learned how much power we have to help make our community a more sustainable, healthier, and kinder place for all.

Encouraged by the success of this event, we’re already preparing for the Second Annual Eugene VeganFest on Sunday, May 3rd, 2026.

About the Author:
Hope Bohanec is the organizer of the Eugene VeganFest (www.EugeneVeganFest.org) and the Executive Director of Compassionate Living. (www.compassionate-living.org)

Resources:
https://www.science.org/doi/10.1126/science.aba7357

https://www.newsweek.com/even-one-persons-food-choices-effect-whole-planet-opinion-2030211

https://www.opb.org/article/2025/01/27/oregon-bill-would-ban-new-livestock-farms-in-states-most-polluted-areas/

The Birth of the First Human

The Birth of the First Human

By Diponkar Chanda, originally from Bangladesh, Canada.

“While the story is not based on any specific folktale or myth from Bangladesh, it is inspired by the cultural storytelling style I grew up with—where themes of transformation, nature, and divine connection are often present. It is an original piece, drawn from imagination and shaped by a sense of spiritual curiosity.”

Long, long ago, trees of every kind embraced the soil, animals wandered freely through the wild, countless birds flew across the sky, and endless varieties of fish swam in the oceans. Insects crawled, flies glided—everything was alive and moving.
But one thing was missing.
There were no humans—nowhere in the world.

Yet, there were shadows. Shadows of many shapes, colors, and sizes. Small ones, tall ones, and those in between. They came in uncountable forms—silent, formless, and dreamless. Though they moved, they had no desires. Though they existed, they felt nothing.

But among them was one curious shadow.
He longed for more.

One day, he rose into the sky and reached the gates of heaven. There, he stood before God.
“What is it you seek?” God asked.
“I want to feel the world,” the shadow replied. “I want to be alive.”

God raised a glowing hand.

“I want to see,” said the shadow.
So God gave him eyes.

“I want to hear.”
God gave him ears.

“I want to taste.”
God gave him a tongue.

“I want to smell.”
God gave him a nose.

“I want to touch.”
And so God gave him skin—and with it, arms and legs—so he could walk and hold, run and rest.

In that moment, the shadow became the first human—alive with five senses and the gift of wonder.

With this miraculous transformation, the Earth itself stirred with change.
From that first human, more humans came—walking in sunlight and dreaming under moonlight.
And the world was never the same again.

—Diponkar Chanda is an emerging writer based in Toronto, 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 Bengali into his storytelling. This is his first submission to a North American children’s publication.

Climate Concert

Climate Concert

By Elaine Elizabeth Jinto, age 14, Bengaluru, India.

we had had a scorching summer
and every AC in the house-
hold was on all the time
but it wasn’t hard for us
like it was for the farmers
who longed for rain, for crops
that he had sowed in summer.
at last it was, finally, June
and we gathered on the balcony
hoping to see nature’s finest performance
raindrop musicians, thunder-clapping audience
spotlighted by lightning, the aroma rising
from the loamy soil of Earth.

My little brother was most eager
to see rain falling, to do
what the rest of us have done
to race through the puddles, to
make paper boats and sail them
to run barefoot in the water, that
icy tingle shocking his little legs
to taste those cool, clean drops
and to drink steaming hot chai*
and to eat bhajia** at the end
but it did not rain, like
it was supposed to, and he
grew despondent, sad, waiting for rain
each day, his eyes searching for
those welcome clouds, to bring rain
to this parched, peppery, dry earth.

And finally, it did, though not
at the time dictated by nature
and we did not let him go out
he asked us why, and we
told him about climate change and
fossil fuel, pollution and everything else
that was happening these days to
Nature, and he grew angry, and
blamed the older generation, for
being greedy, plundering loot from nature
leave behind nothing for his generation
and asked us what stories he
would tell his grandchildren. Of technology?

*Chai is Indian spiced tea, made especially by boiling the tea leaves with milk, sugar, and cardamom, etc.
**bhajia is a type of fritter originating in the Indian subcontinent. It is made from spicy hot vegetables, commonly onion, and has several variants.
We often enjoy these during the monsoons.

By Elaine Elizabeth Jinto, age 14, grade 9, Bengaluru, India. She adds: “I am originally from the State of Kerala, but I was born and raised in Bengaluru, Karnataka. I can speak Malayalam, Tamil, Hindi, and Kannada, along with English. I started writing in 3rd grade, beginning with a poem about a playground. I serve as the Editor-in-chief of our school magazine. I understand the impact writing has when it comes to spreading the right messages.
“I love writing and reading about everyday things that I can relate to. I generally do not follow a strict form in my poems, because I get more room for creativity… Through my poems and prose, I like to give voices to those silent and mundane events that play a huge role in our everyday lives.”

Ode to Backyard Gardening

Ode to Backyard Gardening

Lipless mouth of the earth—she has planted her many clocks
The ground is pregnant in too many places
with tiny empresses on her wrist 

Her hands weed out the thyme; time is a spool; an autumn seamstress of patience
A tundra tending architect
Club bouncer of biomes

Find her; search her
thaw her out—
her belly has swollen too big

Her nurturing placenta caskets; pulping over; the collection, 
Of everything inside her, childish and buried;
Asphyxiated paper cut-out dolls
Frosting over

Ask them; flax and psyllium
Aren’t fathers equal to mothers?
As pistil is to stamen
Tell me, Fertilizer and measuring tape of sacrifice

Mother has become a statue and we no longer wait,
Waiting is for summer, when she is an ant mound

And we bring her saffron offerings
And a whistle for her feet

So that she blesses this house that waits for
No one and nothing but garden gnomes and
Wrist watches

Underground, father doesn’t know how we exist
He knows only that we are boundless
Citizens of space debris

Father is our earth monger 
Soil for soul

—Rose Haberer, Canada. She writes: “My name is Rose Haberer. I am sixteen years old from Toronto, Canada. My family has roots in Poland, Lithuania and South Africa. My writing is inspired by feminism and the authors I love such as Kelly Link, Jennifer Egan, Mona Awad, Joan Didion, and Sylvia Plath—along with the women in my life who have led me to write about the struggles and complexities of femininity.

Overwhelmed by thoughts of climate disaster, I often find myself flooded with emotions that I need to excise through artistic expression. In this piece, I reflect on how nature functions within my family, how the ecosystem in my backyard is tended to, and how my family members each have roles within that ecosystem, both functional and emotional. In the piece, I view the members of my family as belonging to the garden, reflecting how we are all children of nature.

Writing transcends the mundane and breaks conformity and it is something that I hope to continue to do for the rest of my life.”

Save Them Bears

Save Them Bears

By Ya-Ting Yu, Taiwan

Black Bear recently moved north for climate change research. During the festive season, Black Bear’s colleague, Polar Bear, invited him to her family dinner. “No Bear should be alone on Christmas Eve,” she said when she heard the un-partnered Black Bear planned to hibernate in his cave. With no excuse to say no, Black Bear obliged.

That evening, Black Bear arrived at Polar Bear’s home with a basket of cloudberries in his paws. He’d agonized over the gift, unsure what to bring. Though he’d seen Polar Bear’s lunch boxes: ringed seals, whale carcasses, geese eggs, he still preferred chestnuts and persimmons. Honey and beetle larvae were rare treats he savoured after long hours of foraging through data at the lab, but to be inclusive, a value Polar Bear emphasized, he chose cloudberries, safe for vegans, vegetarians, and the nut-allergic.

Polar Bear’s family welcomed Black Bear warmly, hugging, kissing and thanking him profusely for the cloudberries. Flustered by the sudden physical contact, Black Bear forced a courteous smile and awkwardly patted Polar Bear’s Mom’s back, relieved when she finally let go of his paw. It was his first time receiving kisses from complete strangers. Where he came from, in the East, Bears rarely even shook paws, sniffing was usually as close as they got.

But their habitat differences didn’t stop there. For an occasion like Christmas Eve, Polar Bear’s family usually indulged in seal and whale fat. Vegetation was more for decoration, except for the hippie Cousin who’d recently turned vegan to combat the melting ice.

Before dinner, the family gathered in prayer positions, bowing their fluffy heads to say grace. Black Bear, unfamiliar with their faith, looked from left to right at the table and hurried to mimic their gestures.

“Amen,” Black Bear echoed, a pace too slow.

“Do Bears in your forest also celebrate Christmas?” Polar Bear’s Mom asked.

Black Bear scratched his ear. “I guess so? But it’s more of a time when Bears hunt for deals—shopping sprees, fancy meals. We don’t get the day off, you see. Lunar New Year, now that’s a feast worth hibernating in Taiwan.”

“Oh, are you from Taiwan?” Polar Bear’s Aunt leaned closer, her snout twitching. “My son volunteered to build homes for the poor children in rural parts of your forest. Right, Cubby? He, sorry—they have an igloo architectural license.”

Mortified, Polar Bear injected, “Auntie, Cousin went to Thailand, not Taiwan.” Her fur bristled as she glanced at Black Bear.

“That’s cool,” Black Bear said. “But igloos? My Sun Bear friend told me they melt once the volunteers take off. At the end, it seems easier for them to sleep in trees.”

“In trees!” Polar Bear’s Aunt gasped. “Son, you must go back and build them un-meltable igloos next time. The poor cubs. Just imagine—they don’t even have blackout curtains!” She sighed sympathetically and turned to Black Bear. “Do you have blackout curtains in Taiwan? Don’t tell me you also sleep in trees.”

“Oh no,“ Black Bear said with an uneasy laugh. ”Mostly caves or tree cavities. The only time I climb trees is when I’m hungry—for honey and bee larvae. Have you tried them?”

“Bee larvae? That sounds disgusting,” Polar Bear’s Cousin said, wrinkling their nose, unfazed by Polar Bear’s death glare across the table. “Thailand fed us Pad Thai and Green Curry every day.”

“Son,” Polar Bear’s Uncle rumbled as he lumbered over with a platter of barbecued seal fat. “Don’t you know Formosan Black Bears are battling Giant Pandas to protect their territory? What propaganda are you watching all day on TikTok? Read the news.”

Polar Bear’s Aunt sniffled. “I heard about that conflict. Is that why you left, Black Bear? It must be so dangerous back home. Don’t worry. Stay here in the Arctic as long as you want. We’ll sponsor you.”

No longer able to tolerate her extended family’s political incorrectness, Polar Bear tried to stir the conversation. “So, Black Bear, how’s your research? Any insights to share?”

“Yes, actually,” Black Bear said. “Before coming here, I thought Taiwan did a terrible job on climate change initiatives. Sure, we mostly rely on fossil fuels, but imagine squeezing Australia’s population into an area the size of Switzerland. Add typhoons and earthquakes to the mix. Our islands need to generate energy for millions and the semiconductor industry, which, by the way,” he added, fixing his gaze on Polar Bear’s Cousin, “powers your AI, EVs, solar panels, and wind turbines. Charity case, eh?”

A beat of silence followed as Polar Bear’s family exchanged looks. The Cousin shifted in their seat, ears flattening. Minutes passed. Polar Bear cleared her throat.

“Did you know Taiwan is smaller than many of our icebergs?” she asked, her voice tentative, like a kind schoolteacher. “Every Bear does what they can with what they have. And really, isn’t that what this is about? Climate change affects us all—even those big-headed humans. Here we are, just bears trying to adapt.”

She surveyed her family, looking each in the eye, and finally at Black Bear. “And if Black Bear can adapt to seal fat and bear kisses, maybe we can try a little harder too.”

For the first time that evening, Black Bear felt the tension in his shoulders ease, melting faster than glaciers. Maybe he didn’t fully belong in the Arctic yet, but any bear could find a caring companion who understood, even in this icy corner of the world. He leaned in to sniff the barbecue seal fat and said, “Hold up. Let me get my soy sauce.”

Story and illustration by Ya-Ting Yu is a Taiwanese writer based in Taipei, with roots stretching to Toronto and Edinburgh. Writing in English as her second language, she weaves themes of identity and belonging, drawing on her background in counseling and psychology to tell the stories of East Asian expatriates and international students.

Save Them Bears was inspired by my own experience as a Taiwanese expat, navigating the nuances of cultural assimilation and identity. I hope to highlight how cultural misunderstandings can be wrapped in well-meaning gestures. By anthropomorphizing the characters, I aim to create a story that is somewhat ‘trigger-free’ yet thought-provoking.

Pamela and the Patient Cactus

Pamela and the Patient Cactus

By Chuck Curatalo, New York.

“I’d better hurry!” said Pamela, dashing down the stairs. Her loose shoes clunketty-clunked down the wooden steps.

“Slow down,” said Mother. “And tie those shoes like a good first grader.”

“But Mom, I just cannot be late for school today. Miss Jones is teaching science. Science is about animals and other things,” she recited before gulping down her milk and dashing out to the bus stop.

“Today we will begin learning about plants,” said Miss Jones as she began the lesson. “Plants are living things—just like you and me. Let’s make a collection of plants for our Show and Tell. Then we can learn how they live and grow.”

“But Miss Jones, how can a plant be like us? It does not have a mouth and a nose.”

Miss Jones laughed. “Be patient. We will soon find out. But for now, be patient.

“Patient?” What does that mean?” wondered Pamela, dashing for her lunch box.

The next day Mr. Smith, the florist, led Pamela and her mother through a long greenhouse filled with plants of all sizes. Suddenly Pamela noticed a strange, funny-looking one with no leaves at all, just a short, fat, and fuzzy-looking stem. Pamela touched it. “Ouch!” she said. “It pinched me.”

“That’s a cactus plant,” said Mr. Smith. “You felt its needles.”

Pamela looked closer. “Why does it have needles?” she asked.

“Why don’t you take it to school and find out?” Mr. Smith answered. “This cactus is called a saguaro (sah-WAH-row). That’s only one of the many amazing things about it. But you must be very patient”—

Sonoran Desert Landscape with a Saguaro, among other Desert Plants. Photo: Arun Toké.

“Oh, Mommy!” interrupted Pamela. “The kids won’t believe needles grow on plants.”

The next morning Pamela placed her cactus on the window ledge next to the bigger plants. “Can you see the needles?” Pamela asked her friend Bobby, holding a magnifying glass close to the plant.

“Wow!” said Bobby. “They look humongous.”

“You can touch them if you want,” said Pamela. “But be careful.”

“Ouch!” said Bobby. 

“I told you to be careful,” Pamela laughed.

Days went by but Pamela’s cactus did not seem to grow—no matter how much she watered it. “Oh, Mommy I’m afraid the boys and girls will start making fun of my little plant,” cried Pamela.

“The saguaro is growing. It’s just taking its time. It is not always in a big hurry like you,” said Mother. “When it does finally grow—something wonderful happens.”

“What is it, Mommy?” asked Pamela.

“Be patient, and you will, see?” she answered.

“Mommy, what does patient mean?”

“It means you must wait a long time for something to happen and you must not complain. The saguaro is waiting patiently for something amazing to happen!”

“O.K. Mommy,” answered Pamela, wiping her tears away.

Days went by and the cactus still did not seem to grow. But Pamela tried to be patient. “Are you growing?” she asked calmly.

One day Miss Jones showed the class a book about cactus plants. “My tiny cactus isn’t even in here,” said Pamela, as Miss Jones flipped the pages.

Then Miss Jones pointed to a giant cactus with huge, thick arms. “Now here’s a picture of what Pamela’s cactus will someday look like”—

Saguaros in the Saguaro National Park, Arizona. Photo: Arun N. Toké

“It looks like a giant fork!” interrupted Bobby.

Everyone laughed, except Pamela. “But Miss Jones, that can’t be a saguaro. It is so big!”

“Yes, it is very big, Pamela. It is 50 feet tall,” explained Miss Jones. She held up a ruler. “It takes 50 of these to reach its top. And it is a saguaro—just like your plant.”

“But why is that saguaro so big?” Pamela asked. “My saguaro has not grown at all. And it does not even have one teeny-tiny arm!”

Miss Jones smiled. “That’s because this 50-ft. saguaro is over 200 years old”—

“Two hundred years?” said Pamela. “Isn’t that a long, long time?”

“Yes, it is,” answered Miss Jones. “Your saguaro is only about six years old.”

“Six years old?” said Pamela. “I’m also six years old.”

Miss Jones smiled again. “Just think, boys and girls, it will take 25 years before Pamela’s saguaro is as tall as she is. But in 200 years it will be taller than our school. And can you believe this plant started from a seed as tiny as a period in this book?”

“A-maz-ing!” said Pamela. “That is why Mommy said the saguaro was patient. It takes time to grow. But when it grows, it grows!

“Indeed, it does, Pamela,” replied Miss Jones. “And it has lovely flowers that grow on the ends of its arms”—

“Miss Jones!” interrupted Bobby. “Can I make a hole in the roof so Pamela’s cactus can get really big?” Everyone had a good laugh.

That night Pamela had a wonderful dream…

While sitting on the window ledge, the cactus began to grow and grow. Before Pamela could count to ten, the cactus was as tall as she. Before she could count to 20, it was peeking through the hole Bobby Briggs had made in the roof. And it kept on growing—up past the big oak tree on the busy school playground.

Then the giant sprouted mighty arms that stretched out and out. They started to bend—straight up to the sky! Pretty flowers with white petals and golden centers began blooming on each tip.

By the time Pamela could count to 30, the giant began shedding its petals. They went dancing and swirling in the air like giant snowflakes. The children ran around and around, trying to catch them.

Not long after her dream ended, Pamela heard Mother’s knock. “Time to get up, Sweetheart.”

“Wow! What a dream!” said Pamela, tossing her covers. She knew it would take a long, long time for her cactus to grow big and strong. “I’ll just have to be patient—like my saguaro!” she decided, taking the time to tie her shoelaces before going down the stairs.

Saguaro along a Hiking Trail in the Superstition Mountains area of Arizona. Photo: Nathan Toké.

By Chuck Curatalo, New York. Mr. Curatalo retired after teaching for 33 years. He instilled an appreciation for other cultures of the world in his elementary grade students. He has been also interested in teaching children about the wonders of the Southwest. He is a collector of Hopi Kachina dolls and has toured many historic pueblos. He is a published author.

The Cliffs of Moher, Ireland

The Cliffs of Moher, Ireland

Text and photos by Roi J. Tamkin, Atlanta, Georgia

I visited the Cliffs of Moher on a recent trip to Ireland. Although the day was windy and chilly, I couldn’t help but marvel at the size of the steep, dark cliffs. I watched in awe as the wild waves of the Galway Bay crash into the tall, rocky walls.

This geological wonder is located in the southwest part of the Burren Region of County Clare. The cliffs stretch for nine miles. They stand 702 feet tall at O’Brien’s Tower and fall to over 200 feet at some points. The town of Doolin is nearby, and visitors can walk to town on a trail at the visitor’s center. You’re bound to see lots of sheep as you walk the trail.

The cliffs are the most visited tourist site in Ireland with 1.5 million tourists a year.

The cliffs were formed 326 million years ago from sediment deposited at the end of a river. Layer upon layer of sediments turned into Namurian shale and sandstone. Now these dark colored cliffs are subject to erosion due to wind and sea. Portions have crumbled into the water creating sea stacks.

The national landmark has been designated an Important Bird Area as those craggy cliffs are home to many species of birds including puffins and razorbills. When I visited, every bird looked like a gull to me. They flew from their homes burrowed into the rock face and headed out to see to find fish to eat.

A popular attraction is O’Brien’s Castle. Built in 1835 by Sir Cornelius O’Brien, people climb the steps for spectacular views of the Aran Islands across the Bay. There is disagreement as to the purpose of the Castle, but it has been a tourist hit right from the beginning.

The best time to visit is early in the morning. The morning hours afford the best view of the islands and surrounding land. I arrived in the afternoon, and even though the sun was high in the sky, it was extremely cold and windy. I only had twenty minutes of clear views of the ocean and the bright green grass atop the cliffs. Before long, the fog rolled in, and I could not see anything more than a foot from my face. Walking along the tops of the cliffs became dangerous, and I had to keep my eyes glued to the person walking in front of me for safety. The fog came in so quickly and so thick that I decided it was time to visit the museum inside the visitor’s center.

There are many different one-of-a-kind geological structures on the island of Ireland. The Cliffs of Moher tell the story of the passage of time. It took millions of years to build up the cliffs, and now erosion is tearing them back down to sediment. A visit to the Cliffs will last in your memory: the contrast of colors between the murky walls and the emerald green grass; the woolly sheep grazing nearby; and the mystery of O’Brien’s Tower all add up to an amazing day by the sea.

Text and photographs by Roi J. Tamkin, a photographer based in Atlanta, Georgia.