A NAUTICAL HOLIDAY
Lily Farahzad spotted this festive scene at Setauket Harbor Marina on Shore Road on Dec. 2.
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Home Environment & Nature
Photo of the Week
WAITING FOR SUMMER
John Broven of East Setauket snapped this photo at West Meadow Beach on a brisk November 28.
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Nature Matters: Long Island Hollies — Plants of the holiday season
By John L. Turner
Walking out to get the morning paper the other day I noticed a small flock of robins land in a large American Holly growing in a corner of the front yard. They had landed to get their breakfast — an abundance of bright red holly berries scattered in bunches throughout the tree that will fuel them through part of the 40 degree day.
American Holly (Ilex opaca) is the most well-known member of the holly family on Long Island and one of our more distinctive native trees. Its leaves are unique, rigid with spines (to prevent browsing), and their dark green color gives rise to the Latin species name of opaca. Their flowers are whitish-green and are as inconspicuous as the berries are conspicuous. The attractive, tannish smooth-skin bark has distinctive “eyes,” locations where branches once grew. This is the tree — with its attractive contrasting colors of red and green — that’s seasonally associated with our holiday season.
If you pay closer attention, you’ll soon realize that not all American Hollies display bright red berries. Some trees have an abundance of berries while many others have none at all. The former are female trees and the latter male trees. All hollies are dioecious, meaning they have either male or female flowers but not both on the same tree.
This trait is fairly uncommon in the plant world (your garden asparagus is another example); more common are monoecious trees of which oaks, hickories, and maples are a few examples, in which a tree possesses both female and male flowers. And to complicate things a bit further: among plant species such as in the Rose family you have what are known as “perfect” flowers in which male parts (stamens) and female parts (pistils and ovaries) not only occur on the same plant but on the same flower.
American Holly is widely distributed on Long Island and you can see scattered trees in many forest tracts but two places standout if you want to see a forest dominated by hollies: the maritime holly forest situated in the Sunken Forest at Fire Island National Seashore and the forests on the north side of the road in Montauk State Park (quite viewable along the trail that takes you out to the viewing blind overlooking the popular seal haul-out site located in the northwestern corner of the park). In the Sunken Forest, the unique forest that grows between the holly co-dominates the forest with shadbush and sassafras. It is a very rare type of forest known from very few locations, being ranked by the New York Natural Heritage Program as both an S1 and G1 community, in the state and world, respectively. Another fine example of a maritime holly forest is a two hour ride from western Long Island: the holly forests at Sandy Hook, New Jersey.
American Holly has long been prized for its berries and foliage and there are accounts in older botanical books rueing the wanton cutting of holly foliage during the holiday season. One author remarks he was glad that the holly wasn’t often cut down, although its wood is hard and can be easily stained or shellacked, “since the depredations of the Christmas-green pickers take toll enough.”
Inkberry (Ilex glabra), an attractive shrub that grows throughout Long Island, is a member of the holly family; it is especially abundant in low-lying areas in the Pine Barrens such as long streams and pond edges. An extensive stand of Inkberry is found along the Paumanok Path as it passes just north of Owl Pond in the Birch Creek/Owl Pond section of the Pine Barrens located in Southampton.
Inkberry is a classic “coastal plain” species and, not surprisingly, its distribution in New York State is restricted to Long Island. Inkberry prefers sand soils where the water table is shallow, i.e., not far below the surface. It is not typically found growing in standing water but right alongside wet areas where the roots can easily access moisture. The species name refers to the glabrous or very smooth nature of the attractive green foliage of the plant — hairy it is not! The common name refers, of course, to the dark blue berries that stain your fingers an inky-purple if you crush them.
The winterberries from the third group of holly members on Long Island and unlike the prior two groups are not evergreen, dropping their leaves each autumn. But they are holly members, nevertheless, as can be seen by a glance at their bright red berries. Smooth Winterberry (Ilex laevigata) and Common Winterberry (Ilex verticillata) are the two more common species; Mountain Holly (Ilex mucronata) and Mountain Winterberry (Ilex montana) also occur here.
Back to the robins on a late November day: as their feeding demonstrated, while not edible to humans (in fact, they are poisonous to humans and their pets), birds, including the beautiful cedar waxwing, readily eat the brightly advertised holly fruits, especially later in the winter season when other more highly-preferred berries (read: higher fat content) have disappeared. Thus, hollies play a helpful role in keeping nature’s cafeteria open through the tough stretch of late winter through early spring, helping to sustain songbird flocks overwintering on Long Island.
A resident of Setauket, author John Turner is conservation chair of the Four Harbors Audubon Society, author of “Exploring the Other Island: A Seasonal Nature Guide to Long Island” and president of Alula Birding & Natural History Tours.
Living Lightly: Use recycled wrapping paper
A Column Promoting a More Earth-Friendly Lifestyle
By John L. Turner
According to several Internet sources Americans throw away 2.3 million pounds (1,150 tons) of wrapping paper each year, much during the holiday season. This is enough paper to circle our fragile planet 9 times! So, this holiday season, why not give a gift to the Earth by wrapping your presents with wrapping paper made from recycled paper. Better yet, use existing paper such as easily recycled newspaper or place the present in a reusable bag or wrapped in a reusable cloth.
There are a few companies that offer wrapping paper made from recycled materials. Wrappily is one company that offers recycled wrapping paper; it’s made from newspaper. For those of the Jewish faith, Uncommon Goods also offers wrapping paper made from recycled materials; their products contain various Hanukkah designs.
There are a number of options if wrapping cloths, which can be used over and over again, interests you. These cloths, known as furoshiki, are popular in Japan as a means to conceal presents and are growing in popularity here. Many companies offer these products on-line. When thinking about those you love this holiday season, don’t forget Mother Earth!
A resident of Setauket, author John Turner is conservation chair of the Four Harbors Audubon Society, author of “Exploring the Other Island: A Seasonal Nature Guide to Long Island” and president of Alula Birding & Natural History Tours.
Book Review: ‘Alfie & Me: What Owls Know, What Humans Believe’
Reviewed by John L. Turner
Perhaps it’s due to an owl’s forward facing eyes, imparting a humanlike aspect to its face, that is the source of the long-held belief that owls possess great wisdom and intelligence. Actually other birds, most notably members of the crow family like ravens, crow, and blue jays do best in intelligence tests but you wouldn’t know it from the photo of Alfie, a screech owl, that adorns the cover of Carl Safina’s new book Alfie & Me: What Owls Know, What Humans Believe. With an intense stare suggesting human level concentration possessing sickle shaped talons clutching the branch, Alfie is a vibrantly alive bird, an impressive predator that fully “knows” how to be an owl.
The book involves the author raising a young screech owl dealt a terrible hand that would have been a fatal one were it not for the intervention of the author. Along the way Alfie learns to become more independent, finds a mate and raises a family of three.
What becomes immediately clear and what I did not know despite being neighbors and friends of Carl and Patricia, but what I should have known given their abiding and deep interest in the natural world, is just how much time they spent closely watching Alfie reach her potential, blossoming into a fully functioning adult owl, one member of a five member family — all during the COVID pandemic.
They both, but especially Carl, spent what must be hundreds of hours observing Alfie. And as a reader of the book will soon discover, this world enlarges with the appearance of her mate Plus-One and the logical results of Plus-One appearing on the scene — three young baby screech owls. These babies, individually and together, are variously described as: “little spheres of fluffiness,” “a fat ball of a baby,” and a “fluff-jacketed cutie.” The quintet were named “The Hoo,” who together “remained down-jacketed, fluffy, light as the clouds above them.”
In this way the book is a classic story of a scientist delving deeply into the world of a wild animal, along the lines of Douglas Chadwick’s The Wolverine Way, Bernd Heinrich’s Mind of the Raven or Maria Mudd Ruth’s detailed study of the Marbled Murrelet in Rare Bird. There’s exploration and analysis, observation and interpretation, study and understanding, and most importantly the development of a strong relationship.
What’s unique in Alfie & Me is this all takes place in an acre or so around their suburban home, and within that area most within a 50-foot envelope around the house. This story, the development of an intimate “around the house” wild bird-human relationship, ties Alfie & Me with Julie Zickefoose’s Saving Jemima, in which the author spends a good part of a year raising a blue jay to health and independence. There are many delightful parallels between the two books.
Unlike Safina’s earlier books like Song for a Blue Ocean, A Sea in Flames, Voyage of the Turtle, and Eye of the Albatross, Alfie & Me, is more of an extension of, and elaboration upon, some of the concepts advanced in Safina’s three most recent books: The View from Lazy Point, Becoming Wild and Beyond Words: What Animals Think and Feel. These later books explore the intellectual, emotional, and sensory world of animals, their societies and culture, and complexities in the relationship and attitudes of humans with other life forms, specifically, and the natural world generally.
A fundamental aspect of the book is, of course, the interspecies relationship between a few humans and a few owls with colorful side notes on a few dogs and a flock of chickens; an overlapping connection between the one world of the two species, the author aptly emphasizing Alfie being able to place “a wing in ours, I, with a foot in hers.” Or “….the ability to walk the bridge Alfie had opened between their world and ours.”
The Eastern Screech Owl (Megascops asio) is one of two common woodland owls that find breeding habitat here on Long Island. Along with their much larger cousin, and sometimes mortal enemy the Great Horned Owl (Bubo virginianus), Screech Owls are surprisingly common in forests both large and small. Even parcels as small as ten acres are likely to host a breeding pair. Less common woodland owls here include Saw-whet (Aegolius acadicus) and Long-eared Owls (Asio otis) “whoo” are joined by open country visitors during the winter months — Snowy Owls (Bubo scandiacus) and Short-eared Owls (Asio flammeus), coastal and grassland inhabitants respectively.
And unique to the owl species found in eastern North America, screech owls come in two color forms or morphs. Alfie and Plus-One are red or rufous morph individuals which is the more common form on Long Island. Or as Safina notes “a magical russet comet.” The grey form, however, is more common throughout the species range.
Safina is a highly gifted writer, quite adept at turning a phrase and the book is replete with colorful imagery and strong sentences, to wit: “I have always felt that my generation existed in a time spanning the last good years and the beginning of the end of the world,” “The air was stock still. Leafy canopies of maples and the spires of cedars formed a denser darkness against the star-studded vault of space”, and “If they fell to the ground, they’d still climb straight up a trunk, but they were also realizing that crossing distances involved flapping their interesting upper limbs. In a way, they were finding their inner owl.”
This book would be a worthwhile read if all it presented was a highly articulate description of screech owls and their behavior and ecology. But it’s so much more. Alfie provides a feathered springboard for the author to discuss how western thought, espoused by western thought leaders (think Descartes, Bacon, Dawkins, et al.) has led to the dangerous result and our current predicament where so many members of human society are estranged from animals and nature with the resultant deterioration of the global environment. Their “reductionist” thinking of animals as being nothing more than soulless machines incapable of thoughts, emotions, even the ability to feel pain, was all pervasive resulting in the view that humans commanded a lofty and unique perch above lowly forms of life that gave them full dominion over all animals.
In contrast, Safina documents, Eastern and North American Indigenous cultures and religions held views that better harmonized humankind with the animal kingdom and the natural elements of the world. A world with more passion and less consumption. Clearly, the book is an exploration of proffered beliefs, strongly held.
This book also is an exultation of life and living things, a fundamentally and qualitatively unique aspect in this otherwise lifeless universe, a concept that Safina notes and embraces and Alfie illustrates. Life is something worth celebrating, cherishing, and protecting. “The owls gave us the opportunity to pay attention. That was their main gift to us: to be present for a while in the always magical here and now.”
Through Safina’s prose we all can take delight in his decision to intercede and change what was clearly a fatal trajectory for Alfie. We are all the richer for his intervention. Safina ends: “It was amazing how quiet and empty the air could feel once you subtracted owls. But now I knew they were out there, livening up the nights with or without me. Yes, I felt an empty nester. But I’d been dealt a full house, a winning hand.”
Both Carl and Alfie have a lot to say. And we gain pleasure in listening. Alfie & Me is a most important book and a most compelling and worthwhile read — we too have been dealt a winning hand.
SBU chooses Lynch as inaugural director of the Collaborative for the Earth
Heather Lynch is hoping to take a few pages out of the Coke and Pepsi playbook, which is rarely, if ever, used in the fields where she works.
A penguin expert who has traveled more than 9,000 miles to Antarctica to monitor populations of these flightless water foul, Lynch, who is the IACS Endowed Chair of Ecology & Evolution, plans to use her new role as the inaugural director of the Collaborative for the Earth at Stony Brook University to accomplish several tasks, including shaping the way people think about environmental issues like climate change.
“Coke and Pepsi understand the importance of psychological research and persuasion,” Lynch said. “The environmental community has not used any of the tools to get at the hearts and minds” of the public.
Scientists have been trying to reach people in their heads when they also need to “reach them in their hearts,” she added.
Lynch hopes to figure out ways to bring in people who are experts in psychology and persuasion instead of adding another model of climate change consistent with so many others that have made similar predictions.
Lynch, whom a steering committee chose from among several qualified tenured faculty at SBU to take on this new role, will also help organize forums in which researchers and participants worldwide discuss pressing environmental issues.
In the forums, Lynch plans to encourage debate about challenging topics on which researchers disagree, such as the role of nuclear power in achieving net-zero greenhouse gas emissions. She also hopes to address the concept and moral hazard of geoengineering.
In recent years, scientists have debated whether geoengineering, in which scientists use chemical means to cool the atmosphere, could exacerbate the problem or give people false hope that taking steps to reduce emissions or mitigate climate change may not be necessary.
Lynch also suggested other “third-rail topics” as population control may be fodder for future Stony Brook forums.
Scientists “don’t discuss controversial things,” said Lynch. “There tends to be an echo chamber in the scientific community. The forum will help us air these issues.”
To be sure, Lynch believes the issue of climate change and the urgency of the climate crisis is well established. The differences she hopes to discuss relate to various potential solutions.
“I’m hoping to focus on things where we disagree,” she said. “We need to get at the root of that.”
The right candidate
As a candidate, Lynch met numerous criteria for the search committee and for Provost Carl Lejuez, to whom Lynch is reporting in this role.
“Her research is and has been squarely placed to understand climate change and the climate crisis and how we try to move forward toward a healthier planet,” said Lejuez.
Lynch is also a “creative, entrepreneurial thinker” who has an “exciting vision for what the Collaborative can be,” Lejuez said. “She has a real strength in leadership and is very good at bringing people together.”
Lejuez has several goals for the Collaborative in its first year. He would like Lynch to start creating forums that can “live up to the potential of being a leader in creating that academic conference that brings rigor to real-world problems” and is connected to policy, industry and politics and that has clear deliverables.
Additionally, Lejuez would like the Collaborative to move toward an understanding of Stony Brook’s role in the future of climate science, climate justice and sustainability.
New podcasts
Lynch plans to dedicate considerable energy to this effort, cutting back on some of her teaching time. She plans to conduct podcasts with people on campus, speaking with them about their work, what keeps them up at night, what technologies excite them and a host of other topics.
She also hopes to bring in the “brightest lights” to big-stage events at Governors Island and on Long Island.
She is pondering the possibility of creating a competition akin to the entrepreneurial TV show “Shark Tank.” At Stony Brook University, faculty judges could evaluate ideas and advance some of them.
The Shark Tank could give students an opportunity to propose ways to create a greener Stony Brook campus.
As for the psychology and social science of environmental efforts, Lynch plans to work with the Alan Alda Center for Communicating Science to explore ways to understand how people think about these issues.
The evidence and impact of climate change increases the urgency of this work and the potential contribution of the university to debating, addressing and proposing solutions.
Earlier this year, Hurricane Otis intensified within 12 hours from a tropical storm to a deadly Category 5 hurricane, slamming into Mexico.
The potential for future storms with intensification that occurs so rapidly that forecasts might not provide warnings with sufficient time to take emergency measures should ring alarm bells for area residents.
Hurricane Otis, whose intensification was the second-fastest recorded in modern times, “should scare everybody on Long Island,” said Lynch. “People think toddling along with business as usual is an option. That is not an option.”
Photo of the Week
A LOCAL TREASURE
Lisa Mcgrath of Stony Brook took this beautiful photograph of the historic Gamecock Cottage (built in 1876) at West Meadow Beach on October 2nd.
She writes…”While walking on this glorious day at our local beach after so many days of rain, I realized what a constant and beautiful backdrop the cottage is throughout the changing seasons. There were people fishing and enjoying the sunshine as well. It reminded me what a special place we live in.”
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Nature Matters: The Long Island cranberry industry
By John L. Turner
In a few weeks you’ll most likely be sitting down around a table with family members to enjoy an annual Thanksgiving Day meal with all the fixings: turkey, stuffing and gravy, mashed and sweet potatoes, green beans, and cranberries or cranberry sauce. The cranberries and/or sauce probably came from a commercial bog in Wisconsin, Massachusetts, Oregon, or New Jersey, the states where large commercial cranberry bogs exist today.
And here’s a surprise: If you had sat down to this same blessed feast about a century ago, there’s a strong likelihood the cranberries you enjoyed were harvested from a commercial bog situated somewhere on Long Island, probably from one of a dozen or so located in the Pine Barrens. Indeed, a century to a century and a half ago Long Island was the third largest supplier of cranberries to the nation.
Cranberries, being related to blueberries and other heaths, have an affinity to sandy, acid soils so the Long Island Pine Barrens, or more specifically wetlands in the Pine Barrens, provided highly suitable habitat to create bogs and cultivate cranberries.
Most of these commercial bogs were located within the large watershed of the Peconic River, flowing easterly through the Pine Barrens, including three of the river’s four tributaries — the Fox/Sandy Pond area, Swan Pond, and the Swezey’s Pond/Little River draining north from Wildwood Lake — and on the main stem of the river itself just west of where Edwards Avenue crosses over it (just north of Exit 71 of the Long Island Expressway).
Long Island’s first cranberry bog was established on the Brown’s River in Bayport around 1870; today most of it is within the 316-acre San Souci County Park and Camp Edey, a 95-acre owned by the Suffolk County Council of Girl Scouts.
The Woodhull Bog, where Cranberry Bog County Nature Preserve is situated, was perhaps the most commercially successful bog but its success was far from a sure bet when the Woodhull brothers embarked on their effort to convert low-lying swamp habitat to a cranberry bog. Here, they spent four years, beginning in 1885 years, ripping out countless trees and shrubs, damming up the Little River tributary with an earthen dike, placing a several inch blanket of sand on the organic peat of the bog, installing perimeter and internal ditches throughout the bog to ensure rapid water coverage, and, of course, planting thousands of cranberry vines. (With the adoption of the New York State Freshwater Wetlands Act, and local wetland laws, this kind of activity fortunately cannot legally happen now on Long Island).
In 1889 the first harvest was achieved with a whopping 10 bushels provided by the bog. The next year was better with 90 bushels produced and the upward trend continued in 1891 with 500 bushels. In 1892 the vines were three to four years old and had really matured and the tally for the year shows, with 21,100 bushels, going for about $2 a bushel, at market. For many years after that the bog remained profitable and productive. Other bogs like the Brown’s Bog in Calverton and the Davis Bog further west in Manorville were also productive and profitable. No wonder they called it Red Gold!
In the early years cranberries were picked by hand, the hands provided by hundreds of residents who gained supplemental income each autumn harvesting berries. Bog operators used a simple but ingenious strategy to ensure maximum crop harvest among the distracted workers busily chatting and socializing while picking. They laid down parallel rows of string like bowling alleys; each picker had an easier job of making sure all the berries within their “alley” were harvested.
The cranberry scoop was soon invented and provided a more efficient means to harvest berries. The wooden scoop, a popular item in antique stores, had tines like a fork, spaced apart a distance just slightly less than the width of a cranberry. Scoops gave way to mechanized equipment that was more efficient still and once bog owners/operators learned that ripe cranberries float they began to flood the vine-filled bogs and turned to powerful vacuum hoses to suck up the crop. You may have seen Ocean Spray commercials with harvesters up to their chests in a bright red surface of floating berries. Today, a few people can do the job that once required dozens.
Flooding the bogs, also done to prevent a seasonal frost from destroying the crop, and over the winter to protect the vines from freezing temperatures, meant a reliable water supply had to be available and this was the case for every Long Island bog.
For the Woodhull Bog this was the water from Swezey’s Pond, created by the aforementioned earthen berm. For the Davis Bog, water was supplied from Swan Pond. When an operator wished to flood the bogs to protect the berries or vines, or to facilitate autumn harvest, they would remove the wooden boards nestled in the concrete part of the dam next to the water supply source and install the boards at the outlet of the bog. A motor would kick on and spin a driveshaft attached to a large belt connected to a paddlewheel and water would quickly flood the bog. In spring the reverse would occur.
To allow for bees and other pollinators to access the cranberry flowers (the name cranberry is thought to have derived from the name “crane berry”, a reference to how the flowers look similar to the head of a crane) boards would be installed in the slots of the concrete dam next to the water supply and boards removed from the far end of the bog, thereby draining it.
By the 1920’s nearly a dozen bogs were in operation here. But about 15 years later it was down to six, according to a fine article by Tim Huss published in the New York Almanack. Long Island had several problems that made cranberry production less profitable — there were no processing facilities to make value-added products and the costs of labor and land were higher, reflected in higher property taxes, when compared with other more rural areas.
Cranberries, like most agricultural monocultures, are afflicted by pests and such was the case with Long Island’s cranberry bogs. Two notorious pests were (and still are) the cranberry fruit worm and black-headed fireworm which affects both the fruit and leaves. Cranberry producers turned to chemical means in an attempt to control the insects, with amino triazole being the pesticide of choice. This pesticide soon was in the crosshairs of the then Department of Health, Education and Welfare (HEW).
On “Cranberry Black Monday,” November 9, 1959, HEW declared amino triazole a carcinogen (cancer causing). The cranberry market was dealt a severe blow with even Mamie Eisenhower declaring she was foregoing the traditional cranberry sauce at the White House Thanksgiving Dinner in a few weeks, serving apple sauce instead. Untold cartons and cans of cranberries and sauce languished on supermarket and warehouse shelves.
The Davis Bog in Manorville was the only cranberry bog to survive this event. For years they sold their berries to the Great Atlantic & Pacific Tea Company (remember A&P supermarkets around Long Island?), but the bogs south of Swan Pond were harder and harder to maintain and in 1974 this last cranberry bog ceased operation. The Long Island cranberry industry was no more.
If you want to gain some sense of the industry that was once so vital to Long Islanders both as a source of food and employment, a visit to the Suffolk County Cranberry Bog Nature Preserve south of the Suffolk County Center in Riverhead is in order. A small dirt parking lot provides parking and a wide trail leads to Swezey’s Pond which was the water supply source to the Woodhull Bog.
A picturesque trail runs around the pond (I like to walk it in counter-clockwise fashion) and by hiking the trail you’ll see where sand was excavated to make the earthen dike, the dike itself, a few of the perimeter ditches that once lined the edge of the bog, and a concrete pump house near where the stream drains from the pond into the bog. If you visit during the warmer months you should see turtles, numerous birds, dragonflies, and waterlilies. Better yet, go in the colder weather, say the day after Thanksgiving, as a way to burn off the calories from all that turkey, gravy, and cranberry sauce you ingested with relish the day before.
A resident of Setauket, author John Turner is conservation chair of the Four Harbors Audubon Society, author of “Exploring the Other Island: A Seasonal Nature Guide to Long Island” and president of Alula Birding & Natural History Tours.
Inspired by a poem, infused with imagination, Firefly Artist’s newest exhibit takes root
TREES
By Joyce Kilmer
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
By Tara Mae
Art, nurtured and nourished by nature, is a sustenance that sustains the soul. The Firefly Artists’ newest exhibit, I Never Saw a Poem As Lovely As a Tree, is the harvest grown from a sort of artistic cross-pollination featuring works inspired by Joyce Kilmer’s poem “Trees.”
Through painting, sculpture, glasswork, pen and ink drawings, collage, and other mediums, the show, which opened at the Northport gallery on Oct. 18 and runs through Nov. 16, roots itself in the aspect of nature that is its muse. The juried exhibit features the works of approximately 32 visiting artists as well as 20 Firefly members.
The theme serves as a creative catalyst and reverence for the surrounding environment.
“An artist came in with a fire in her eyes about ‘Trees,’ and that became the prompt. It was a fantastic subject for so many folks…We get inspiration from everywhere; we are nothing if not creative,” said Firefly Artists Managing Partner Katheryn Laible.
Inspiration found in nature may actually be planted by memory or emotion. As a course of communication, art transcends both distance and time. Beth Atkinson, a managing partner emeritus, who maintained her Firefly membership when she moved to North Carolina, thought of the poem during a Zoom brainstorming session with her colleagues. Her father, an art teacher and artist in his own right, would recite it when she as a child.
“We have so many fabulous artists on Long Island, and we have quite a few artists who work with landscapes and nature…I started to think about many of our artists at Firefly — almost all of them have pieces that apply,” Atkinson said.
‘Trees’ is a verbal manifestation of the esteem so many local artists have for the natural world; the Firefly Artists put out an open call to any interested participants, and received an enthusiastic response. This resulting effort broadens the scope of the art and is also an opportunity to introduce new creators to the space.
“We like to do juried art exhibitions; they are how we have gotten many new members for our gallery. ‘Trees’ felt universal enough that we would have plenty of interest and be able to choose best pieces for the show,” she added.
Across many different mediums, an artistic arboretum grew from the chosen entries. Though they vary in style and genre, the creative copse they form immerses viewers in verdant vibrancy.
“This is a beautiful exhibition. We are so blessed on Long Island to have such a robust and talented community of artists. Getting to showcase them is a privilege,” Laible said.
By spotlighting the work of nonmembers, the gallery branches out into a larger artistic network and makes inroads establishing lasting relationships; many members began as guests artists.
Current members, six of whom anonymously juried I Never…, did not submit their work for selection, but their art is present elsewhere in the gallery and excavates the essence of the poem.
“Trees are taken for granted,” Firefly member Carol Procopio said. “The tree that inspired my piece sits on my front lawn; I have known it since 1965. Every day when I take my dog out, I look at that tree and it amazes me.”
Instead of poetry in motion, the exhibited pieces employ the studied application of appreciation. Like “Trees,” they require the audience to recognize that beauty, even when familiar, is never banal.
“Living on Long Island, near the water and near one of the cultural centers of the world gives me a huge ‘canvas’ to work with as an artist. There’s nothing like an historic tour of Northport or a stroll through lower Manhattan to fire up the imagination,” Firefly member Ann Fox said.
Love for location, whether present or conjured from remembrance, is a shared attribute of the Firefly artists. The community they foster is not necessarily bound by proximity but rather attributed to shared artistic passion.
Formed in 2011, originally all members lived on Long Island. But, as some of them moved away, they remained connected to the gallery. “Most of Firefly artists stay with us a very long time, even me, who now lives in North Carolina; I just ship my work to Firefly” Atkinson said.
Comprised of current and retired art teachers, art enthusiasts, parents, and grandparents, members belong to the gallery as long as they pay their dues.
Membership fees go to practical matters such as rent — the gallery is located in the historic former residence of The Northport Hardware Company — and philanthropic pursuits such as scholarships. No one associated with the gallery takes a salary. Three managing partners, Laible, Drigo Morin, and Jennifer Lau, oversee and organize operations.
“Firefly is one of those places that has been a savior for many of our artists; they needed a community and we gave them that. I think the best part is that we try to make money, not so much for the gallery but rather for our artists and our local artists,” Atkinson said.
Art, at its core, is an intimate conversation conducted on a communal level. It is a language of emotion and consideration. A project of true passion, the Firefly Artists seeks to plant seeds of understanding in order to cultivate wisdom through wonder. With I Never…, visitors are invited to partake in casual contemplation.
“I love watching people come in and experience the art, especially when they bring their kids in. It really nice way to connect with all different people…” Laible said.
A reception for the exhibit will be held on Saturday, November 4, from 3 to 5 p.m. Located at 90 Main Street, Northport, the gallery is open Monday to Wednesday from 11 a.m. to 6 p.m.; Thursday to Saturday from 11 a.m. to 9 p.m.; and Sunday from 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. Admission is free. For more information, call 631-651-5545 or visit https://thefireflyartists.com.
SBU News: Season of discontent In Long Island’s coastal waters
New 2023 Map Shows Record Number of Harmful Algal Blooms and Dead Zones Across Long Island
Scientists at Stony Brook University have completed their assessment of water quality in Long Island’s surface waters for 2023 and the news was not good –the announcement was made today at a press conference on the shores of Great South Bay. During the months of April through September, every major bay and estuary across Long Island was afflicted by harmful algal blooms (HABs), oxygen-starved, dead zones, and fish and turtles kills. Excessive delivery of nitrogen from onsite wastewater has been cited as the root cause of these disturbing events.
“Some aspects of 2023 were the ‘new normal’ for Long Island, but there were disturbing, unexpected outcomes as well” said Dr. Christopher Gobler, Professor of Stony Brook University. “This was the worse year for harmful algal blooms on Long Island, ever.”
Gobler explained that there was a record-setting five shellfish bed closures in five locations covering thousands of acres across Long Island due to the occurrence of blooms of the saxitoxin-synthesizing alga, Alexandrium. Saxitoxin causes the human health syndrome, paralytic shellfish poisoning. These five closures in April and May were following by an additional closure that began in May and extended into the summer that was caused by a bloom of Dinophysis in Moriches Bay that reached record densities.Dinophysis contains okadaic acid, a gastrointestinal toxin and the 2023 bloom was record-setting.
“While a Dinophysis bloom in the Flanders Bay region in 2011 had been globally deemed the most intense Dinophysis HAB ever recorded at two million cells per liter, the event in Moriches Bay exceeded 100 million cells per liter, and sustained densities in the millions for over a month.”, commented Gobler.
On the heels of these spring events came something new for Long Island, namely a HAB called Pseudo-nitzschia that contains a neurotoxin known as domoic acid that causes amnesic shellfish poisoning. The bloom covered south shore regions from Islip through Quogue across much of Great South Bay, all of Moriches Bay, and western Shinnecock Bay. Beyond detecting tens of millions of cells per liter, this bloom was also producing the toxin domoic acid, representing a new public health threat.
“This algal toxin has never been seen in Long Island waters and has had significant mortality effects on marine mammal on the west coast. Its high density in regions that had been previously flushed by the New Inlet that closed in 2023 suggests that, in addition, to excessive nitrogen loads, poor flushing contributed to this event.”, said Gobler.
And the HABs did not stop there. In mid-July, a rust tide began on the east end of Long Island, starting in Shinnecock Bay and ultimately spreading through all of the Peconic Estuary. Rust tide is caused by the alga, Cochlodinum, that is ichthyotoxic, meaning it can kill fish and has been responsible for fish and shellfish kills on Long Island. The 2023 rust tide was the earliest start ever for a Rust Tide, and this was also the longest lasting rust tide as the event extended into early October. In 2012, the Gobler lab published an article in an international, peer-reviewed journal identifying the ability of excessive nitrogen to intensify these HABs, and in a 2019 publication, they identified the increase in summer water temperatures since the 20th century as a factor allowing these blooms to occur all summer in NY waters.
The HABs also extended inland in 2023 as there were more than were two-dozen lakes and pind that experienced outbreaks of blue-green algal blooms, a serious concern for both human and animal health. The south fork of Long Island was called out for hosting the ‘Dirty Baker’s Dozen’ as 13 water bodies in this region experienced these toxic blooms in 2023. For the past seven years, Suffolk County has had more lakes with blue-green algal blooms than any other of the 64 counties in New York State, a distinction that is likely to be repeated in 2023. Blue-green algae make toxins that can be harmful to humans and animals and have been linked to dog illnesses and dog deaths across the US and on Long Island.
The 2023 water quality impairment map also documented more than 30 distinct low oxygen ‘dead zones’ across the north shore, south shore, and east end of Long Island. All life in the ocean outside of some bacteria require oxygen to persist, a fact motivating the NYS Department of Environmental Conservation to strive for all water bodies at all times to have no less than 3 milligrams of dissolved oxygen. All 30 dead zones failed to meet this standard. While fish kills were not widespread in 2023, a lack of oxygen did contributed fish kills in locations on the south shore.
Over the years, the occurrence of harmful algal blooms and dead zones has contributed to the collapse of critical marine habitats such as seagrass, major fisheries on Long Island such as bay scallops and hard clams, and coastal wetlands that help protect waterfront communities from the damaging impacts of storms. Groups such as The Nature Conservancy have been working for more than a decade to revive and restore these habitats and shellfish but have been challenged by events such as those witnessed during the summer of 2023.
Excessive nitrogen coming from household sewage that seeps into groundwater and ultimately, into bays, harbors, and estuaries or, in some cases, is directly discharged into surface waters, is a root cause of the maladies of 2023. Excessive nitrogen stimulates algal blooms that can, in turn, remove oxygen from bottom waters as they decay. Suffolk County and Nassau County recently completed ‘subwatershed studies’ that identified wastewater as the largest source of nitrogen to surface waters and set goals for reducing nitrogen loading from septic systems as a defense against these impairments.
Despite the gloomy news, there were some signs of hope in the data.
“In Long Island Sound, the western dead zone in 2023 was significantly smaller than it was 20 year ago thanks to sewage treatment plants removing 60% more nitrogen and reducing the flow of nitrogen into the western Sound”, said Gobler. “This proves that reductions in nitrogen loading does improve water quality.”
Counterbalancing this high note was the growth of a second dead zone in central Long Island Sound emanating from Smithtown Bay suggesting this region now needs significant reduction in nitrogen loading.
The report on the summer of 2023 was compiled by the Gobler Laboratory of Stony Brook University that has been monitoring and sampling Long Island’s waters on a weekly basis every summer since 2014. Data was also generated by the Long Island Sound Study which is funded by US Environmental Protection Agency. The data was reported weekly on News 12 and Newsday as part of their weekly Water Quality Index.
The study was supported by the Chicago Community Trust and an anonymous donor.
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