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This is a guest blog by Cathy Holt, a fellow volunteer of mine with a group called Earth Regenerators. Her blog, written in December 2022, is so lovely that I asked her permission to post it here. - Gail Koelln Here in Colombia, I am in the Southern hemisphere, where altitude determines temperature more than the time of year. After an unusually long wet season of almost daily rains, we’re now transitioning into the dry months. Dry season Even during the rainy season, there is not usually enough water to go around. Homes lacking a cistern to hold municipal water to get through the days when no water is released from the aqueducto, have to buy water from a truck. Camila Encinales is part of a watchdog committee, doing veeduria(oversight) of the Mayor’s office and the Council. She told me that four municipalities draw from the same quebrada (stream, smaller than a river). And yet, when a proposal was made for all new construction including hotels to install a water cistern, the mayor simply refused. Speculation: big hotel companies paid him bribes so he wouldn’t require it; this is pretty commonplace. And there are over 200 hotels here, including some big ones on the outskirts of town, that all draw from the same water source. Many have swimming pools, and all do large amounts of laundry. Yet, more hotels keep getting approved and built. I asked Camila what she thought might motivate the mayor to do right by the water; would a petition help…carried to him by the children? She thought it was worth a try. Water consciousness “The state of consciousness in a community is reflected in how they care for their water.” I’ve seen this statement, of indigenous origin, many times. A previous corrupt mayor, who had public funds to pay for sewage treatment, pocketed the money instead, and constructed a “white elephant.” That’s the name for a building with nothing inside, a sham. So the sewage of the pueblo flows untreated into the Barichara River. On the other hand, the much larger city of Bucaramanga uses biogas anaerobic technology to clean up their sewage. Pasos de Agua Last week, Felipe Medina, his wife Alejandra, and a few other parents took a group of 15 children, aged five to eleven, on a four-day walking journey. “Pasos de Agua” (Steps of Water) took them along the Barichara Quebrada, upstream of where the sewage goes in at Salto de Mico, or Monkey Jump. The last two days were a campout at a coffee farm near the stream, culminating in the children’s public report of their dreams for the quebrada and for the future they want to see. I was able to attend thanks to Carlos Gomez, a lover of children and big proponent of clean water, who owns the coffee farm Agua Santa (Sacred Water). He kindly offered a ride to me and Michelle, a young California visitor from a Filipino-Chinese family. While Paúl’s 11-year-old son Alejo solemnly beat a drum, one younger child at a time read from some large posters they had created with adult help. I did my best to video three talks given by three boys and a girl: Dante, Coco, Lorenzo, and Quetzal. Dante, perhaps 8 years old, especially got my attention with his enthusiasm and wildly funny imitations of guitar players! Felipe has such a gentle way with the children. And they were eager to tell adults about how the stream could be protected and improved. Children’s dreams: - Don’t throw garbage in the stream, the woods or the beach. - Create dry toilets. - Make dikes to trap the rubbish in the stream. - Place filters in the stream so that water comes out more pure. - When we see anyone dumping trash into the stream, tell them “No.” - Reduce the sewage going in by directing waste into septic tanks away from the water. - Create a campaign for people to stop using plastics and other products that contaminate the water. Publicize the issue with big posters and on TV. - Talk with the mayor. - Get together each month to keep developing these ideas. - Carry out the ideas. - Keep visiting the water. - Let’s save the stream! Water is what gives us all life. Without water we cannot live! I asked the children how they would prepare for a meeting with the mayor, and there was some conversation about starting a petition to bring along, with the key requests the children had formulated. Then some kids got into the stream for a little swim. Kulchavita leads a ceremony Kulchavita and indigenous wisdom After a simple shared lunch, Kulchavita, a heavy-set man in white robes with long white hair, arrived to do a little ceremony with the children. He is a respected elder who studied with indigenous groups and now teaches the ways of the Kogui and other Amazonian original people. “He holds the power of the rainbow,” Felipe told the youngsters. Kulchavita spoke to the children about how water gives life to all creatures, saying we need to honor and care for it as we would a family member. Each evening for the next four days, he’s holding talks at CoraSoma, attended by my friends Gabriela, Macaya, Carlos, Maritza, and PaúlPart of the ceremony with the children was to take a short length of cotton string, roll it into a ball, hold it to our hearts, and silently send wishes for the stream’s well-being and healing into the string. First the children and then the adults quietly walked the path down the hill and offered the string with blessings into the stream. Afterwards the children formed a circle with Kulchavita, linking arms. To the adults, he said, “We must cleanse ourselves, to cleanse the water.” So many questions came to my mind…would the mayor meet with the children? Would a petition get the attention it deserved? Margarita, who was there with her husband and 8-year-old son Luca, said, “We need to change how we think and talk about the mayor. If we just keep saying he’s corrupt, it’s like a self-fulfilling prophecy. It makes us feel hopeless, like what’s the use? Then we just want to give up.” Margarita’s words got me excited, because previously when we’d talked about such an idea as a children’s water campaign at the mayor’s office, she had always sighed in discouragement, made a face, and told me he was so corrupt that he wouldn’t pay any attention. Now she was changing her perspective, and giving such good advice! Hopeful new beginnings Along came an iridescent blue morpho butterfly, color of sky, symbol of hope, transformation, and new beginnings. There is a legend that when we see this butterfly, our wishes can be granted. Unlike the elusive others I’ve seen, this one stayed around long enough for me to get a photo! At this time of expanded energy for healing and new beginnings, may this be a season of hope and renewal for humanity on this gravely compromised planet. May we all awaken to the sacredness of water, transform our relationship with it, work to clean the water and use it wisely and gratefully, so that the children’s dreams of a future with abundant clean water may be realized. Wishing you a joyous and hopeful Solstice! Barichara, Colombia·Posted Wed, December 21, 2022 on Earth Regenerators Mighty Networks webpage Cathy Holt I'm 76, semi retired, have my Permaculture Design Certificate, passionate about earth regeneration, especially water harvesting, purification and biodigestors!

The parrot pilgrimage starts December 2022 (above and below) In the dim light of winter, and perhaps of this age and my own age, it seems that we have little power or control to effect any lasting change. Even though sometimes I touch on despair about the best future possible for people and parrots, I am also ever more grateful for the power and possibility of life on this planet. I see evidence of beauty and awe-inspiring moments in each person on our conservation teams, in the community members, in our colleagues and partners, in the parrots and wildlife with whom we are blessed to be in solidarity, and those of us at home supporting our teams in the field, especially our donors. We are saving lives and there is hope in all our projects, and a lot of joy as well, despite not knowing the final outcome of our shared work. Happy from the first day until the last Such is the case in Nicaragua. In mid-December we partook in a Parrot Pilgrimage, walking around one of the two volcanoes on Ometepe Island, Maderas. We began each morning with reflections, sharings, and questions to ponder for the day. The questions symbolized how we know not the outcome of the day, the walk, our conservation efforts, or of our lives. But we knew that as we begin each day, we walk with beauty before us, behind us, and all around us. To witness this story for others we carried a variety of signs, such as “Freedom is Beautiful” and “Save the parrots.” We marched with children, elders, nationals, and internationals. As we marched, we saw beautiful birds flying free, chicks in nests, and the people who are working hard to protect them from the intense domestic and international trade in wildlife. With each step we strove to be the change we wish to see in the world by connecting and opening to the reality of the parrot trade. Our physical movement amongst beauty and tragedy bonded us together and grew our awareness and commitment to the parrots, people, and Earth. Every one of us, whether present in Nicaragua or reading this blog, is moving with the world. If we can consider our lives as a pilgrimage - which is a journey where we explore and grow our connection to life and earth - we might just see through to the end our determination to save lives, including our own. By sharing the stories of our lives, we witness to and guard life and become a movement - pilgrims in a new land where none are free until all are free. End of Parrot Pilgrimage December 2022 Join us for this year’s Parrot Pilgrimage, December 2023!

You see it all the time – in fashion magazines, in corporate marketing materials, even on your favorite brand of toothpaste. Someone is always announcing their “new look” to the world. Well, even small nonprofits, such as One Earth Conservation, sometimes feel the need to undergo a makeover. So, a few months ago, our staff agreed it was time to update our logo. Making such a change is not something to be taken lightly. A logo sends a message about who we are, what we are all about, and how we want the world to see us. It is an image that becomes synonymous with an organization and the work it does. It’s important that it be recognizable, but also simple, clear, and beautiful. This is not work for the faint of heart! Therefore, I reached out to my good friend and extremely talented graphic designer, Robin Weisz of Robin Weisz Design. Robin generously agreed to donate her services for our new logo project and we are so very grateful for the time and effort she put into this project. In general, volunteers play an important role in the work we do and we are thankful for all of their efforts (to learn more about how you can help, send us an email at info@oneearthconservation.org). The first step was for us to communicate to Robin what we want to convey through the new logo and what we wanted to change, or keep the same, from the original logo. We knew we wanted to emphasize our work with parrots, our commitment to conservation and protecting the planet, and our solidarity with the local people with whom we partner. Parrots remaining free is so central to our vision, so we decided to keep the image of a wild scarlet macaw in the logo, which is one of the main species we work to protect. To emphasize our work with local people and connection with nature, we wanted to keep an “earthy” look to the typeface and colors as well. Keeping parrots free in the wild and, whenever possible, out of captivity is important for multiple reasons: 1. As long as humans continue to purchase parrots and support the international trade by perpetuating demand, these animals will suffer. More parrots will be bred for lives behind cage bars, illegal poaching and trapping will further threaten already declining populations, and Indigenous and other local cultures and communities will continue to be destroyed. The exploitative and tragic cycle of trapping, selling, suffering, and declining populations will continue. 2. Human communities and ecosystems are also harmed by the wildlife trade, as parrots are seed dispersers and are important to the spiritual and cultural health of human communities. 3. Furthermore, people involved in the wildlife trade (sale, transport, trapping, poaching) are susceptible to injury, disease, and death. Robin presented us with a number of options to choose from and after some back and forth among our staff, we selected the final version. We love the bird flying free, the suggestion of our one Earth (or the sun or moon) behind it, the unique quality of the typeface, and the emphasis on the green, blue, and red colors. All these elements tie together in a clean, clear, and beautiful image that can be used in multiple formats. We bid a fond farewell to our original logo (and send a huge thanks to Debra Neill Mareci, who designed it) and excitedly welcome the new one in the new year. We hope you like it as much as we do and would love to hear your thoughts about what the logo brings to mind for you. To do so, please email us at info@oneearthconservation.org.

Guest Blogger: Dr. Nicole Becich* Adapted from the original publication for the Association of Avian Veterinarians December, 2022. Pictured: Two Javan kingfisher (Halcyon cyanoventris) perched on rotten wood in a bush. By I Wayan Sumatika | Adobe Stock. Poem: "Hope is a Thing with Feathers" by Emily Dickenson Many people have opinions about how effective messages of hope are in the face of all that the world is up against these days. Climate change, consumerism, epidemics and pandemics plague us and the species we care about most - it’s easy to get cynical, burnt out, and discouraged. Great naturalists of our time, such as Jane Goodall, David Attenborough, and Edward O. Wilson have championed the notion that education, great messages of hope, and optimism are crucial in our shared fight to save natural places. Certainly, money, power, and legislation are the true forces of change in many of our modern cultures, but we don’t get people involved in those heavy-lifting activities without lighting their fires from within. I was gifted two books this holiday season, The Book of Hope: A Survival Guide for Trying Times by Douglas Carlton Abrams and Jane Goodall, and An Immense World by Ed Yong - I hope to get to them soon to keep that fire burning for myself. As one of my favorite writers and ecologists Aldo Leopold once wrote- “... I have no hope for conservation born of fear.” And there is, unfortunately, a lot of loss of life, a lot of suffering, and a lot of scary things out there that are easy to fear. I was told by two of my greatest college mentors in my ecology program that to work in conservation, one has to have optimal ignorance (of the battles that we may lose, and the people who work hard against us), and terminal optimism to remain passionate in our efforts to help the world we live in and share. I hope to continue to take those messages to heart. I will leave you with a tale of wonder and myth from birds: have you ever heard the term “Halcyon”? Halcyon as an adjective “denotes a time in the past that was idyllically happy and peaceful” - but it has its roots in Greek mythology. It comes from an old love story between Ceyx, the Morning Star, and Halcyon, daughter of Aeolus, God of the Winds. After the death of Ceyx in the dark of winter, the gods transformed the two lovers into Kingfishers, to nest upon the sea at solstice each year. Sailors often thanked the “Halcyon” birds - which became mythical symbols in themselves - for peaceful waves and a calm, dark Aegean sea seven days before and after solstice, a respite from the typical harsh waters of winter. Halcyon is now an entire genus of kingfishers spread from Africa to Southeast Asia, including the strikingly colorful Javan Kingfisher, Halcyon cyanoventris (pictured above). Many birds have stories like these to capture the imagination and inspire love and action to protect them. We can learn them, tell them, and take heart from the many ways birds ignite the human imagination and spirit. As the South African forest conservationist Baba Dioum stated, “In the end, we will conserve only what we love; we will love only what we understand and we will understand only what we are taught.” Keep teaching those around you to love the world and the birds in it. Messages of hope keep us warm in dark times. *Nicole Becich graduated with a B.A. in Biology in 2013 from Pomona College, and is a 2018 graduate of Tufts Veterinary School. She has had the privilege of working in zoo and wildlife conservation medicine with Bioparque Amaru in Cuenca, Ecuador since 2013, where she works against wildlife trafficking and for Andean Condor conservation efforts. Thanks to her Ecuadorian colleagues she speaks passable Spanish. She currently works as an associate veterinarian at Oasis Veterinary Hospital in Martinez, California, and as a relief veterinarian at the International Bird Rescue Center in Fairfield, CA. Contact: nbecich@gmail.com

Este artículo se publicó originalmente en inglés el 22 de noviembre de 2022. Este tema es de tanta importancia que lo reimprimimos aquí en español, con algunas actualizaciones sobre el trabajo del gobierno de Honduras contra la corrupción y destrucción de La Moskitia. La vista desde Tablitas sobre el bosque de la Moskitia Tablitas tiene un tono de anhelo místico que resonaba en mi corazón desde mis primeros viajes a La Moskitia, Honduras en 2010. Al principio sólo pudimos llegar al noroeste hasta la Torre Montero, pero no pudimos ir más lejos debido a la violencia que se vive en la zona y que para aquel entonces había cobrado muchas vidas de humanas y otras seres. La historia que escuché es que las familias narcotraficantes competidoras estaban en guerra y que el área no era segura para nadie, ni siquiera para los aldeanos que llamaban hogar a la bella sabana de pinos. “Allí se pueden ver grandes guaras verdes”, me dijeron. Anhelaba ver uno, pero cada año me decían: “No es seguro”. Finalmente, hubo un año en el que parecía que podíamos arriesgarnos con el viaje a Tablitas. Pero el día antes de partir, habíamos visto pasar un camión lleno de traficantes armados en el la carretera de Pt. Lempira. Así que decidimos que era mejor esperar hasta otro año cuando finalmente no sólo pudiéramos usar un camión que corría el riesgo de averiarse, sino que también podíamos llevar dos camiones más con nosotros por seguridad. El equipo durante mi primer viaje a Tablitas Entonces un año realmente sucedió. El área se había calmado lo suficiente como para que pudiéramos ir a esta tierra legendaria. Los soldados nos acompañaron para mantenernos a salvo y ellos también fueron capturados por el aura de Tablitas. Los aldeanos nos preguntaron si podían irse, pero los dos camiones pronto se llenaron y dejamos a muchos atrás. Acampamos en un lugar lejos de miradas indiscretas y, durante el día, nos aventuramos a encontrar una densidad relativamente alta de nidos de guacra roja. Una tarde mágica, a la distancia en la luz mortecina, vi mi primer gran guacra verde. Los pueblos locales comenzaron a monitorear y patrullar esta área y en varias ocasiones pude ir con ellos. Estaba extasiada de volver a admirar esta elevación imponente que es Tablitas y que domina el bosque aún intacto. Sin embargo, en los márgenes y en la distancia, se puede ver la usurpación ilegal de tierras royendo uno de los grandes bosques que quedan en América Central. La guara verde Hace solo unas semanas regresé al sitio como parte de nuestro conteo anual de guaras y quedé aún más impresionada y asombrada. Acampamos justo en el camino de tierra y podía contemplar el bosque cubierto de niebla desde mi hamaca. Durante los conteos vimos varios guaras verdes, que ahora están en peligro crítico con un número desconocido de individuos para la región de Honduras. Sospecho que no permanecen muchos, ya que solo hemos contado alrededor de 30-40 en el área grande que estamos monitoreando (2500 kilómetros cuadrados). Una mañana, al ver guaras verdes y rojas acicalándose las plumas juntas en un árbol, sus colores eran un arcoíris posado en él, decidí entonces que aquí es donde me gustaría esparcir mis cenizas. La Rev. Dra. LoraKim Joyner reflexiona sobre si la conservación puede funcionar, especialmente aquí en La Moskitia Hondureña donde los desafíos son grandes. Pero esta es una tierra disputada. No estoy segura de que la conservación pueda funcionar aquí (aunque ya lo es, como muestro en el video de arriba). Los que tienen poder quieren prohibir la entrada a los aldeanos para monitorear y proteger los nidos. Es posible que nunca vuelva a ver Tablitas y las únicas cenizas que podrían esparcirse sean las del viento que sopla sobre los tocones quemados de los árboles talados donde anidan y se alimentan estos guacamayos en peligro de extinción. No tiene que ser así. La tierra y la vida silvestre en toda su belleza podrían ser la recompensa que aquellos en el poder pueden ofrecer a la tierra y a las generaciones venideras. Belleza salvaje casi hasta donde alcanza la vista en Tablitas. La Diócesis Católica en Puerto Lempira, por invitación nuestra, visitó Tablitas hace apenas unas semanas y escribió una proclama. Las palabras del sacerdote llaman a los líderes locales: Pedimos a los líderes indígenas que se preocupan por la creación de esta área protegida, que no piensen en el interés de unos pocos, que desean beneficiarse a corto plazo de los recursos naturales de esa área; que piensen en el bien común del Pueblo Indígena Miskito y de las próximas generaciones de La Moskitia; que sean recordados por los sacrificios que han hecho por la conservación de su territorio y de los recursos naturales que en él existen. La conservación de los bienes que hayan recibido de sus ascendientes debe ser su principal interés, nunca la venta o destrucción de la herencia recibida. Por ello, les instamos encarecidamente a encontrar la fórmula adecuada para la protección eficaz de esta zona. El Ministerio de Tierras y Medio Ambiente de la Iglesia Católica está a su disposición para acompañarlos en este proceso, en lo que esté a nuestro alcance. Le pido a la Moskitia y al mundo, que prestéis atención a estas palabras para que la belleza venza la desigualdad, el despojo y la destrucción. En One Earth Conservation estamos a su servicio para traer prosperidad y justicia a esta tierra, haciendo todo lo posible para vivir bajo la visión de la solidaridad incondicional. Que así sea. LoraKim Joyner Noticias: Tal vez recuperaremos Tablitas algún día. Esta semana el gobierno de Honduras canceló los planes de manejo de tala de las comunidades donde tenemos nuestro proyecto de conservación de guacamayos, incluyendo donde se encuentra Tablistas. Tal vez, solo tal vez, vuelva a ir allí algún día. Los soldados que nos acompañaban se unieron de todo corazón, incluso cosiendo nuestro parche de "Solidaridad Incondicional" en sus uniformes. La devastación de La Moskitia está dañando la vida. Se ha perdido mucho, pero recientemente el gobierno hondureño está ayudando a los indígenas a mantener sus tierras libres y prósperas.

Rangers of Kalebaskreek learning how to count parrots - in the field.... We at One Earth Conservation often summarize our style of conservation as just showing up. We go to areas where there are no or little parrot conservation work being done and we see what is going on with the parrots and the people. We then listen to the people to learn about their needs and the needs of the parrots. If there seems to be something we can all offer each other, One Earth Conservation then slowly grows our conservation program in conjunction with those who live with the parrots. This just showing up is harder than it sounds. First it requires a lot of preparation so that you have the tools to move with fluidity as the needs arises. This includes learning about the cultures and languages of the people; the ecology, behavior, identifying sounds and characteristics of resident parrots; and all you can about yourself so you can be present to the often chaotic and uncertain circumstances of going somewhere you’ve never been before. One has to know and love oneself as much as possible as a means for doing the same for others of all species. It’s a constant learning process and it means showing up, even when it’s hard to do so. It’s a challenge being present, for it means holding tenderly the suffering and tragedy of the people and parrots around you; the destruction of local ecosystems, cultures, and populations; the surprises and confusion of navigating other customs and languages; and of course the ever-present field conditions of insects, weather, and often lack of food, water, and places to sleep. In the farm.... More and more over the years, I have come to trust the process of showing up as a conservation activity because it always seems to work out. By working out I mean that beauty and interconnection prevails to the point that we find a way to care for each other and the earth, often in long-term conservation projects. Perhaps I trust it too much, because even though there is a lot of preparing to do, I don’t overly prepare. I know that no matter what I do in advance things will arise that will throw all plans awry. So why plan too hard for things one cannot foresee? It was with this gestalt that I went to Kalebaskreek, Suriname to do a training in parrot monitoring and conservation, and to set the foundation for a conservation plan for the years to come. I had been to the village twice before (blogs) and we had courted each other to see if a parrot conservation project would be possible. We all agreed it could, though no details had been confirmed or agreed to. So, I showed up with some copies of our data collecting forms, extra binoculars, parrot ID sheets, and, of course, a hammock. Even if the conservation project wouldn’t “take” I know I would sleep well and dry! On the river.... Talking with the Captain (Chief) of the village when we first arrived, on a whim I thought to inquire if there was a projector in the village. I have hours of lectures for training parrot conservationists and such equipment could prove helpful. I almost didn't ask because the community only has electricity supplied by a gas generator for certain hours of the day. Also, I had brought one before to this village and it hadn’t worked, so I didn’t bother bringing one this time. “You wouldn’t have a projector by any chance?” I asked. “I do,” said the Captain, or the equivalent of it because she was speaking a mix of Dutch and Sranan Tongo. “It’s old and I’ve never tried it before,” she continued. Now we just needed electricity, and for the ancient technology to come through for us. Later that first afternoon, when we first met with the 12 gathered potential rangers and community members to kick off the training, I asked, “Does anyone have a generator we can use?” “I do,” said one ranger.” I then asked if anyone had a boat, we could use that would hold 12 rangers to do river counting of parrots, “I do,” said another. We tried out both the projector and the generator, after splicing old electrical cords together, and what do you know…it worked! The community members said they'd like to have both field and classroom training. So just like that we had a schedule of lectures and field excursions, with the result being one of the most fruitful parrot trainings I have ever been a part of. And in the classroom. A key component of our success was Stevo Oldenstam. Only a few weeks earlier I had asked him if he could help me with the training. He had been with me on previous trips, as I don’t speak Dutch or Sranan Tongo, but this time I thought I could go alone and rely on someone in the village who spoke a bit of English to help out with translating. I decided I might need more help, as community life can be complicated. So with little warning, when I asked him if he could come, Stevo said “I will.” I believe it was the capacity of those gathered with the “I do” and “I will” energy that allowed us to accomplish so much with basically so little. This is a low budget project for now, which is how all our projects start, and it depends heavily on the collaboration and ingenuity of those who involved. And, boy, how the people came through! We were able to train each other much more than I thought we could. I learned so much about their work and daily life, for One Earth Conservation needs to know how people live to have conservation integrate with who they are. It was decided that the rangers who fished for a living, would combine their parrot patrols and counts with their river fishing trips. We co-developed a work plan, a conservation plan, a village agreement, and a safety plan – in only three days! The rangers chose a coordinator, a mother of three, who said, “I’ve never had a job before,” as she smiled, which caused my eyes to as well with tears. Now she is communicating with me weekly sending data sheets, photos and videos, and reports on what people are doing. These rangers, and by extension this village, is well on its way, as I have been told, to establishing the first ever species-specific conservation project in Suriname. Graduating class of parrot rangers in November, 2022 I now trust more than ever that one just has to show up in life to see what happens, and then cocreate out of that context. But it does take something else – a perfect desire, or perhaps, an expressed intention. Before the more formal part of the training started, I asked why they were participating in the training. If we could hear each other, perhaps we could make our goals happen. I was surprised by the number of people who said they wanted to see beauty and learn about the wonderful birds around them. They wanted to learn and they wanted to protect. I was surprised because this had been a major hub of parrot trapping only a year ago. The human desire to live and live well, and for others to live and live well, gave us the creative juice to send us on our way. As I write this, I am on my way to One Earth Conservation’s Parrot Pilgrimage in Nicaragua. And according to my growing trust, I will just let things happened. Yes, I have gear, training tools, a schedule, a plan, and, as always, my hammock. But I don’t know really what is going to happen. It depends on who shows up and how we show up. But if we do show up, we can save life, and be saved by life, without knowing what next lies on the road ahead of us. In solidarity on the journey, LoraKim Stevo and I were on our way back to Paramaribo when he slammed on the breaks to rescue this snake that had been slightly injured on the side of the road. He caught the snake and then we released her several miles away in a safer area.

The view from Tablitas overlooking the Moskitia forest Tablitas has a mystical yearning tone that echoed in my heart ever since my first trips to La Moskitia, Honduras in 2010. We were at first only able to get as far northwest as Torre Montero, but could go no further due to the violence in the area that had claimed many lives. The story I heard is that competing drug trafficking families were at war, and the area was not safe for anyone, not even the villagers that called the pine savanna home. “There you can see great green macaws,” I was told. I longed to see one, but each year, I was told, “It’s not safe.” Finally, there was one year when it seemed as if we could risk the trip to Tablitas. But the day before we were due to leave,, we had seen a truck full of armed traffickers pass us on the Pt. Lempira Road. So we decided it was best to wait until another year when we could not only finally use a truck that was not at risk of breaking down, but take two trucks with us for safety. The team during my first trip to Tablitas Then one year it actually happened. The area had calmed down enough that we were able to go this fabled land. Soldiers accompanied us to keep us safe, and they too were captured by the aura of Tablitas. Villagers asked us if they could go but the two trucks soon filled up and we left many behind. We camped in a low spot away from prying eyes and during the day, we ventured out to find a relatively high density of scarlet macaw nests. One magical evening, off in the distance in the fading light, I saw my first great green macaw. The local villages started to monitor and patrol this area and on several occasions I was able to go with them. I was ecstatic to return to take in this towering rise that is Tablitas, and which overlooks still intact forest. However, on the fringes and in the distance one can see the illegal land encroachment nibbling away at one of the great forests left in Central America. Just a few weeks ago I returned to the site as part of our annual macaw count and was even more impressed and in awe. We camped right on the dirt road and I could look out over the misty shrouded forest from my hammock. During the counts we saw several great green macaws, which are now critically endangered with an unknown number of birds still left in Honduras. I suspect there are not than many left, as we have only counted about 30-40 in the large area we are monitoring (2500 square kilometers). Seeing great green and scarlet macaws preening their feathers together in one tree one morning, their colors a rainbow in the tree, I decided then that this is where I’d like to have my ashes spread. Rev. Dr. LoraKim Joyner muses about whether conservation can ever work, especially here in La Moskitia, where the challenges are great. But this is contested land. I am not sure that conservation can work here (although it already is as I muse in the video above). Those with power want to forbid the villagers entry to monitor and protect the nests. I may never see Tablitas again, and the only ashes that might be scattered are those from when the wind blows over the burned-out stumps of felled nesting and foraging trees of these endangered macaws. It doesn’t have to be this way. The land and wildlife in all its beauty could be the reward that those in power can offer the earth and generations to come. Wild beauty nearly as far as one can see in Tablitas The Catholic Diocese in Pt. Lempira, upon our invitation, made a visit to Tablitas just a few weeks ago and wrote a proclamation. The priest’s words call out to the local leaders: We ask the indigenous leaders who are concerned with the creation of this protected area, not to think of the interest of a few, who wish to benefit in the short term from the natural resources of that area; that they think about the common good of the Miskito Indigenous people, and of the next generations of La Moskitia; that they be remembered for the sacrifices they have made for the conservation of their territory and the natural resources that exist in it. Preserving the assets, they have received from their ancestors must be their main interest, never the sale or destruction of the inheritance received. Therefore, we strongly urge you to find the appropriate formula for the effective protection of this area. The Land and Environment Ministry of the Catholic Church is at your disposal to accompany you in this process, in whatever is within our reach. I too ask you of La Moskitia and of this world to heed these words so that beauty may yet conquer inequality, dispossession, and destruction. We at One Earth Conservation are at your service to bring flourishing and justice to this land, doing our best to live under the vision of unconditional solidarity. May it be so. LoraKim Joyner The soldiers who accompanied us joined whole heartedly, even sewing on our "Unconditional Solidarity" patch onto their uniforms

Scarlet macaw nests should be dry like this - a safe haven for vulnerable day-old chicks. It has been a rainy year so far in La Moskitia, Honduras. I heard frequently how the rain never really stopped this year and there wasn’t a clear dry season. The Indigenous people with whom I work are having a hard time harvesting their beans because the fields need to be dry. They are also worried that they can’t burn their fields, which they need to do before they plant rice. The heavy rainfall also has taken an early toll on scarlet macaw chicks who normally experience dry nests when they are small. After each rain we need to check vulnerable nests with chicks, drilling them if needed to allow water to escape. Climate change is causing so much loss and instability. This is a flooded scarlet macaw nest where a chick died The rain did have some advantages because it kept the days and nights cool while I was working there in April 2022. Instead of sweating all night in bed, it was a comfort to snuggle into sheets and even blankets as the moon and stars passed by my window of the Conservation Center. Though not a realistic picture, this is what it feels like to stay at the Conservation Center in Mabita, Honduras The rain caused some unforeseen difficulties, such as higher water levels for water crossings, and rotting bridges. On the way back one night we were coming over the final bridge, which spanned a small creek. About halfway across the truck lurched, and a tremendous noise of splintering wood ensued. The wheels spun upon the slippery bridge (and indeed, upon empty air as they were poking through the holes under the tires). I looked out the front passenger seat so I could exit quickly, now knowing the shape the bridge was in. But there was no bridge to be seen! This meant that the car tires were on the edge of the bridge and it also meant that I was even more highly motivated to get out of the truck as soon as possible. The project truck on a broken bridge “Santiago, we have to get out of the truck,” I said over and over. Not able to get out on my side, I scrambled into the back seat and popped out the other side. Someone remarked that they had never seen me move so quickly and with such agility. One of tree climbers said, “That is what fear will do to you, and it’s a good thing. It’s how I feel when I am up in a tree checking on macaw nests and the wind picks up and I hear the wood telling me urgently, 'get down, get down, move quickly'." We climb the trees and cross bridges that put us at risk, but that is because the parrots and biodiversity in this region is at risk Thank goodness we have never lost a tree climber and we were able to get over the bridge after about an hour of rebuilding it and placing planks under the tires after raising the wheels of the car with a jack. Now whenever we go over a bridge we do all we can to inspect it first, rebuild it before going over, and then affirming that no matter what happens, it happens to us all. Inspecting and repairing a bridge, truly necessary in the heavy rains of 2022 We’ll miss that bridge because it provided a shorter route to leave the village and inspect nests. So now we take the longer and safer way around. This bridge tells me, like the trees tell the climbers, that we should be afraid of the collapse of earth’s systems. The splintering of life is echoing all around, and what is happening now is happening to us all. We must move quickly to save life, as well as plan diligently for the long haul, rethinking and rebuilding how societies in general have functioned. There are no lasting shortcuts in life.

I’ve always been an animal-lover. As a child, I wanted to be a vet. As a young adult, my life was too itinerant for pets, so I made pocket money by petsitting. But it wasn’t until my partner had the kooky idea (at the time!) of becoming a bird guardian in 2016 that I discovered a whole new level of love for animals. It was at that time that we began a lifelong journey of not only caring for feathered friends, but learning about and advocating for them. Six birds and six years later, I’m honored to be part of the One Earth Conservation team. I don’t spend my time in the field though. Instead, I provide communications support in the realm of web development, graphic design, writing, and social media – the same thing I do at my day job. When I’m not doing "comms" work, I spend most of my time caring (and cleaning!) for my flock. I've learned so much about their needs, their behavior, and above all else, why none of them should be in captivity in the first place. Below are their stories as well as some reflections from my journey as a parrot parent. Sam and Floyd Where to begin with these two old men? My partner and I adopted this pair of bonded Amazons in 2018. Floyd is a 49 year old Red-lored Amazon and Sam is a 39 year old Orange-winged Amazon. They’ve been bonded for almost 25 years, and we are their fourth home. They found their way to us via Foster Parrots after their previous owner relinquished them due to declining health. Floyd and Sam were wild-caught. To this day, they are clearly both wild birds. Neither has ever sought or needed much attention from us. But as their residency with us has gone on, that has changed a bit. About a year ago, Floyd – for the first time – bowed his head, asking my partner for some scratches. A few months ago, he climbed up on his shoulder. These little moments bring us joy, but few days go by when I don’t think about their journey to our home – all the pain, fear, and stress they’ve endured from their nest to the U.S., to three different homes, to a sanctuary and finally here. What they’ve endured is simply too much to expect any animal to experience. I’m so grateful they have each other. Of all of our birds, Floyd has the most health problems. Unable to fly, he suffers from atherosclerosis. Sam on the other hand can and does fly. All around our house! But anytime Sam leaves Floyd’s sight, Floyd is overcome with anxiety and frustration, often resorting to biting his own legs. We keep Sam and Floyd in the center of our ground floor, so that even though they don’t always want or need our company, they know that we’re right there, everyday. Dodi Our Citron-crested Cockatoo, Dodi, is a daily reminder of why parrots shouldn’t be kept in captivity. This 19-year-old little lady constantly craves our attention and affection. Not a day goes by without a piercing, blood-curdling scream because we’ve left the room for a second, or because it’s been too long since we’ve pet her. Dodi was brought into this world almost twenty years ago by a breeder who then sold her to a woman who was curious about birds. She was then “swapped” for a Toucan after a few years, and ended up in the home of Jewel, a woman whom she would grow to love and live with for over 12 years. When we met Jewel, her life was undergoing significant changes. Her new fiancé didn’t like Dodi, and she had started her own business as an in-home pet-sitter. Unfortunately, being called away to work outside of the home 40+ hours a week was incompatible with Dodi’s needs. And that’s how we came upon a Reddit post by Jewel, seeking a new home for Dodi. Dodi is a chronic plucker and occasionally a self-mutilator. She won’t hesitate to send us into a panic by proudly ripping out a massive wing feather, her otherwise pristine, white coat soaked in deep red blood. I still wonder how many days she spent locked up in her cage when Jewel, who really loved her deeply, was pulled away to work from 9-5 (plus a commute). I wonder if I could begin to count the number of feathers Dodi ripped out in those days. Spock Spock is a 35 year-old Cherry-headed Conure (a.k.a. Red-masked Parakeet) who also came to us via Foster Parrots. Born to a breeder, he at some point experienced significant trauma, resulting in not one, but two broken legs that never healed. He is unable to walk or perch, but he doesn’t realize that. Given the opportunity, he will fly right to my shoulder as though he can perch right there with ease. He will then hang by his beak on my shirt (or skin!) until I adjust my body so that he can lay – like a floating duck – on my shoulder, chest, or lap. Spock’s health upon arrival at Foster Parrots was precarious. He had a cataract that they feared might portend greater health problems, and they considered making him a permanent resident of the sanctuary. But his deep and intense desire for human companionship won out – he simply wouldn’t be happy there, because he isn’t happy if he isn’t around humans. To this day, years later, if I even place Spock in his cage for a few minutes, he makes his displeasure known – immediately, loudly, and unyieldingly. He does not want to be in his cage. Ever. Spock is a very old man in conure years. We don’t have much time left with him. We’re incredibly grateful and honored that Foster Parrots allowed us the privilege of caring for him in his final, golden years. Kachina Kachina is a spunky 32-year-old Catalina Macaw, who we adopted from a family in Vermont. Their daughter wanted Kachina so much, she exchanged months of labor for a pet store for the privilege of taking her home. They became fast friends, but Kachina didn’t take to anyone else in her home. After a few years, the young girl made plans to move away to college, but couldn’t take Kachina with her. And so began Kachina’s journey to our home, facilitated via Craigslist. Kachina, which means spirit in Pueblo, is the most recent addition to our flock. We often wonder about her overall health and well-being – specifically, does she miss her best friend? Is she better off with us? Her former family loved her dearly – they were so proud of their nutritious, homemade chop recipe, and let her roam around their living room all day every day as she pleased. But they admittedly never once took her to a veterinarian. She slept in a dog crate measuring no more than 4 ft x 3 ft. We struggle to keep Kachina occupied, and she quickly becomes frustrated if she isn’t receiving a wealth of attention. I wish we could let her roam free, but she is so curious, so full of energy that it inevitably leads to her climbing, chewing, or chasing something (or someone!) she shouldn’t. Every day brings new challenges for us, but we realize that Kachina faces challenges we’ll never understand. I will never know how she spent the first 20 years of her life, before being plucked from a pet store. Mango Mango, a Sun Conure (a.k.a. Sun Parakeet), is another little fellow we adopted from a family who could no longer keep him due to changing circumstances. He belonged to a 16-year-old, Lauren, who loved him very dearly, along with his cagemate, a Green-cheeked Conure (a.k.a. Green-cheeked Parakeet) named Kiwi. But her parents had divorced, and, like so many Sun Conures, he was becoming aggressive. Schlepping Mango back and forth between homes was proving unsustainable, and neither of Lauren’s parents cared much for Mango when Lauren wasn’t around. He spent most days in a cage alone. And of course, Lauren knew that someday soon she would be moving away to college. Like Dodi, we found a post about Mango on Reddit, after this young girl made the brave, mature, and highly emotional decision to re-home him. Now 7 years old, he is still a typically feisty Sun Conure, and as such, he presents many challenges. Like Lauren, we struggle with his aggression – he attacks not just his flockmates (his most common victim is sweet Dodi), but also our dogs and cats (yes, we have three of each)! Unfortunately this means that Mango can no longer be out of his cage all day like the other birds in our care. We maintained a peaceful symbiosis for about a year, but by that time, his aggression became too much of a risk to our other pets. We hope that one day we are able to resume his previous routine. Until then, he is out 6-8 hours most days, but he can never be part of the rest of the flock. Instead, my partner and I must spend time with him one-on-one. We’ve also moved his cage so that he is in the center of everything. He may be confined to his cage more than we like, but he’s never alone. Lessons Learned as a Parrot Parent Since adopting our first birds in 2015, parrots have slowly but surely taken over our lives. It’s joyful and it’s frustrating. At times it’s overwhelming. We have learned so much about these animals – chief among those lessons learned is the underlying reality that none of them should be captive in the first place. Every day brings a new reminder of why these animals are still wild at heart, and why their lives are stunted by living in a human home. Dodi’s plucking, Floyd’s atherosclerosis, Mango being cagebound…all are products of life in captivity. Being parrot parents is no longer a simple joy for us. It’s become a calling with a much deeper meaning, providing our lives with purpose and passion. We’ve designed a new life, with our flock at the center of it. We bought a home in a small New England town so they could have space and security. We no longer up and travel to Europe for six weeks on a whim. Every day, we try to do right by them, and we hope more than anything, that for all of them, we are their final, forever home. Still, at times I find myself overcome with anxiety. We are blessed to be young and healthy, but what if we are in some kind of accident, or what if our health fails at the same time? What will happen to our birds then? We are upwardly mobile young professionals now, but what if that changes? An economic depression could turn our lives upside down, like so many others. What if we’re no longer able to work from home? We live in a comfortable, spacious home now, but what if a fire or flood takes that from us? If that nightmare materialized...what if we need temporary housing? Who will take in six parrots? We have taken every precaution possible – savings, flood insurance, pet insurance, a highly specific will, back-up bird food reserves...but in the event of a true disaster or emergency, will any of it matter? What will our birds do when even the most comprehensive arrangements can’t take into account their needs? There’s no easy answer. Hopefully these fears will never become a reality. But what’s scarier, even more overwhelming, is the realization that this is the same fate that basically all birds in captivity are doomed to. Human structures, human constructs, human schedules, human habits are not compatible with the needs of wild animals. Parrots were never meant to be captive. Yet we continue to put them in cages. And they continue to suffer. Even the happiest, healthiest parrots in human homes will never find the same environment they would find on a daily basis in the wild. The fact is that our six parrots are the lucky ones. Countless birds out there will be harmed, failed, and even murdered by humans, in some ways much worse than we can imagine. For every joyful, healthy parrot I see on Instagram, I know there are a dozen more suffering, and even more who never made it past the clutches of a trapper or smuggler. This is why I give my time to One Earth Conservation. It’s why I spend hours every day caring (and cleaning!) for my parrots. This is why I support multiple sanctuaries, like Foster Parrots, Magnolia Exotic Bird Sanctuary, the Rhode Island Parrot Rescue, the Northeast Avian Rescue, the Iowa Parrot Rescue, and Pearl Parrot Rescue – only a few of the inspiring, indomitable organizations out there who pick up the pieces for parrots where humans fail. Because countless parrots need sanctuary. And because this crisis will only get worse as long as humans keep breeding, buying, and selling parrots. If you love parrots and/or want to care for a parrot, I implore you, as would any of the staff at the rescues above, all bursting at the seams with surrenders – #AdoptDontShop! Adopting Dodi, Floyd, Kachina, Mango, Sam, and Spock has been the most fulfilling experience and greatest privilege of my life. There are so many birds out there who need a forever home. And if you can't adopt a parrot, that's okay! Most humans live lives incompatible with the needs of parrots. Please consider supporting your local parrot rescue – they need all the support they can get. From my flocks to yours, Josh Anderson

(Photo by Agnes Coenen) When we first started studying sun parakeets in Guyana we thought it would be a slam dunk - just repeat nest and population monitoring as in every other parrot project I have ever worked in to get the desired results. Wrong! Sun parakeets are very different from macaws or amazon parrots. Every time we think we have figured them out, they throw us a curve ball. So, we needed to see what others had found out. Surely there must be reports of the breeding ecology in the literature. Wrong! No one has studied them in the wild. We were learning that we would need to do a lot of basic science to understand them, which you must do before you can conserve them. Parakeet rangers heading out to a nesting area The parakeet rangers of Karasabai, Guyana then set about not only protecting the endangered parakeet from poaching, but also intense observing and data collection. There previous work will be augmented by a recent Tree Climbing and Parrot Conservation Workshop so they can actually look into active nest or roosting cavities to see what is going on with these birds. (blog). Back of form used to summarize cavity observations There is much work yet to be done in the next several months and I’ll be going back there in November. In the meantime we’d like to share some preliminary findings, which we presented at a recent workshop “Status and Parrot Conservation in the Guianas” held in Georgetown in September, 2022. The Center for the Study of Biological Diversity cosponsored this with us and we had representatives from parrot monitoring and conservation projects from several countries Schedule of Parrot Workshop (contact us if you would like to hear about results presented) We shared with the people present the challenges this species presents that keeps us so far from arriving at clear and simple conclusion on nesting ecology. Here is our list of challenges: 1. The parakeets both nest and roost in the same cavity. Many other parrot species roost in different locations and outside of cavities. This means that when we see parakeets spending the night in a cavity, we don’t know if it’s an active nest with eggs or chicks, or just a roost cavity. Often when parrots spend the night in a cavity, bingo, you have an active nest. 2. They do not always roost in the same cavity in a given week, or year long. We don’t know where they go but suspect that they have several different trees and even areas where they might roost or nest. This makes it difficult to understand their roosting and nesting ecology if they just disappear and go some where else. And when birds do come back we can’t tell if it was the same ones we say before because… 3. The total numbers of birds entering a cavity can change from day to day. Some birds will enter a cavity but decide to spend the night somewhere else. So, the size of the flock in a given cavity is not consistent. 4. Active nests have birds of multiple ages – fledglings, juveniles, eggs, chicks, and more than two adults. So, we don’t know what is going on inside of the cavity as to where the birds are in a cycle of nesting. 5. We don’t know how to age the birds. Younger birds have more green on their back and have duller yellow body feathers that almost appear brown when first fledging. In the wild we don’t know how long it takes them to develop adult plumage which is mostly yellow and orange with some green on the wings (which feathers). We don’t even know what the variation in coloring is in young birds as some may fledge with more or less green on their backs. Photo 6. We have observed multiple adults with nests with chicks or eggs. We have also seen females mating with or being fed by more than one male, and then they all spend the night in the same cavity. We also see juvenile plumaged birds feeding younger birds, being fed by older birds, and mating with older birds. So, we don’t know who are the parents of any other given birds, and if they might breed communally (look up right term). 7. There appears to be no discernable specific breeding period – they may nest year-long. Multiple adults and younger birds in one cavity (photo by Andrew Albert) So far we have recognized 37 cavities (Figure below). We rate them as to how likely they are to be an active nest. If we hear or see chicks, we call it 100% active. If there is repeated breeding behavior, such as entering to feed chicks or the female being left behind for the whole day while the rest of the flock forages, we call it probable. With less evident nesting activity we call it possible. If there is absolutely no indication that any nesting activity is going on, we call it a roost site. All these categories, other than the 100% category are imprecise - that is why we need to climb trees or have some mechanism for taking pictures of videos of the interior of a cavity. In the active cavities we found that the average number of birds spending the night was 4.9 and ranged from 2 - 11 individuals. There were a range of 1-7 adults present and a range of 0 -7 juveniles present. Of the cavities suspected of being a nest we found that there was activity year round, although we had to estimate a 9 week breeding cycle to determine this (see below). The level of our understanding is both exciting, and daunting. There is so much further study that needs to be done. Improving our nest monitoring by being able to climb trees and take pictures of eggs or chicks inside will help, as will the genetic work being undertaken by Robert Spitzer and the parakeet rangers. The Parakeet Rangers showing their power and invitation to join them If you’d like to help us understand these birds, we are soliciting proposals for scientific tourism or serious research studies to help us collect data. Please contact us if you are interested in helping out, for in trying to understand them we come to love them, which will help the whole world cherish and conserve them.

First day of the climbing workshop as Parakeet Rangers shout the Macushi word for Sun Parakeet, "Keseé." Early September days in Karasabai, Guyana can have some rain and some heat, but not too much of either. What was abundant a few weeks ago were those who gathered to conserve the endangered sun parakeet. I journeyed to Karasabai with colleagues from the US Fish and Wildlife Service (USFWS) and the US Forest Service (USFS), which both support the parakeet conservation project. The USFWS offers advice and substantial financial support through the agency's Caribbean Grant Grant Program (supported by USAID). The USFS lent us two experienced tree climbing instructors who work with the Puerto Rican Parrot Recovery Program. Our collaborative work is meant to help recover the sun parakeet, whose numbers in the wild may only be in the hundreds due to trapping for the wildlife trade. It is a steep hill to climb to bring this parakeet back to a sustainable level. If anyone can do this, it will be the local parakeet rangers, and they’ll do it by climbing every parakeet roost and nest cavity that they can. But first they have to safely learn how to do so, and this is where Jessica Ilse and Victor Prado-Marcano of the USFS enter the story. They led a 7-day tree climbing workshop in early September that provided the rangers with the necessary skills that will go a long way towards conserving the parakeet and will help other conservation projects in Guyana as well. Their efforts, along with our supporters and the rangers, means that we can follow every rainbow till we reach our dream – that one day huge flocks of sun parakeets will fly free throughout their once wide range in Southern Guyana. Climb every mountain Search high and low Follow every highway Every path you know ("Climb Every Mountain" from Rogers and Hammerstein's "Sound of Music") Walking back to the Ireng River between Guyana and Brazil after climbing up to a sun parakeet cavity Rangers cross a creek on their way to a sun parakeet active nest cavity Climb every mountain Ford every stream Follow every rainbow 'Till you find your dream Parakeet rangers going home on the Ireng River after climbing up to nest cavities A dream that will need All the love you can give Every day of your life For as long as you live A longtime dream finally came true in September 2022. For the first time, the scientific/conservation community climbed up a tree to a sun parakeet nest cavity (trappers have climbed trees before). Climb every mountain Ford every stream Follow every rainbow 'Till you find your dream A Parakeet Ranger of Karasabai finding her place as a conservationist in her village

A kea in New Zealand, getting ready to take off What if we lived every day experiencing the journey of our lives? What if we always were, and it was just a matter of reframing our daily routines and challenges into a story of epic proportions, and at the same time, accepting how our lives are just an infinitesimally small contribution to the whole? That is the spiritual challenge – to know that what we do matters, and yet it doesn’t. That we are stars and heroes, and yet are at best, very small actors on this planet and in the universe? We at One Earth Conservation are musing a lot about journeys (Nicaragua Parrot Pilgrimage and Suriname Parrot Pilgrimage) and undertaking them because we feel the pull of important urgency to what we do, and yet also tugging at us is the sense of sometimes both helplessness and hopelessness in what befalls our beloved life on this planet. But still, we take one more step, perhaps in a different direction so that we can shake up our own outlook and offer what we can, knowing it could both make all the difference in the world, and yet none at all. How Zen is this? A book about parrots and people in Australasia Our latest different direction is to head halfway around the world and into the southern hemisphere to both Australia and New Zealand. These are the current names of these two land masses but they were known by many names by the original peoples who came here. We go to learn these names, these people, these ecosystems, and the wildlife, especially the parrots, and in turn offer our experiences of parrot conservation and nurturing nature from the Americas. Representing One Earth Conservation in person will be Rev. Dr. LoraKim Joyner, Board President, and Rev. Dr. Meredith Garmon, spouse, and member of the Board. For them this is the trip of a lifetime. For not only is there parrot knowing and healing experiences to exchange, there is the Women’s World Soccer Cup during July and August of 2023! In between any gigs they can get to promote transformative parrot conservation, they will be cheering on the athletes who exhibit the power and beauty of the human form, which was largely hidden away until the evolving liberation of women. So too we will be celebrating the beauty of avian form and contribute to the evolving liberation of birds from cages, from the wildlife trade, and from the demand of consumers that reduce the well-being of all. We each are trapped in a market economy under which we all live and suffer. As birds are freed, so will we be, for none are free until all are free. In short, this is what we are striving to do, or, said another way by Megan Rapinoe, USA soccer star: We wing our way to Australasia aiming to listen and love. If you have any ideas or contacts that might like to engage with One Earth Conservation next summer, please contact us, and even better, if you can arrange some activities (see below for ideas), that would be most appreciated. What We Can Offer: 1. Services or discussions at your spiritual or religious community 2. Book signings/readings (such as from the book Prion that is about Australia, New Zealand, and parrots, as well as other books) 3. Workshops/lectures/courses on topics such as: Transformative Conservation (inner and outer change to cherish and promote the well-being of life on this planet) Non-Violent Communication Human Dimensions of Conservation Parrot Conservation Methodology, including Parrot Conservation Medicine Nurturing Nature with the Five Intelligences Parrots as a Gateway Species 4. Motivational speeches such as Parrot Conservation in the Americas; Nurturing Nature – Yours, Theirs, Ours, the Earths; Reducing the Demand/Stopping the Trade/No Birds in Cages; and Birding for Life 5. Fundraising opportunities for your group, your cause, and One Earth Conservation 6. Birding for Life Walks and Workshops