With blue skies and wind blowing wisps of black hair into her eyes, her small hands searched the rocky ground for a link to her past: a small, edible root connecting her to both past and future as she assumes her rightful place as a Nez Perce child belonging to the land known as the Wallowa Valley.
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Multiple generations of Nez Perce returned to Oregon’s Wallowa Valley for a special gathering in May 2019. / Photo by Kathleen Ackley
"When my grandmother lived in a nursing home, she told me that her friends were from farms or often talked about being outside. That's when I made it my mission to bring the outdoors in."
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A nursing home resident frames leaves brought in by Leia Lowery during her land trust's program. / Photo by Leia Lowery
Imagine a junkyard. Picture a car crusher in operation for 50 years. Add to that vision 100,000 tons of broken concrete. This isn't a sight that inspires thoughts of conservation, is it?
When I first joined the Conservation Foundation of the Gulf Coast in Florida, I was unsure that an archaeologist-become-environmental educator would be a good fit for a field that seemed filled with highly educated biologists and ecologists.
We are honored to have been chosen by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service's Coastal Program and the Land Trust Alliance as a model for community conservation.
