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.
i
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."
i
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.
