sustainable play

Stories at the confluence of people, planet and play
sustainable play

sustainable play

Inside Rock

WE WILL HAVE NO GRANITE countertops in our house. What they have to say offends us, in their rectilinear absurdity, their often ugly and artificial colors, and their human-made shine. We like to eat upon stone, but not inside our own house. When I see these stoned counters in other people’s houses, they seem, in their shape and their function, like places of business or places of death. They make me wonder what really counts indoors and outdoors.

Ticktock, The World Clock Never Stops

From such a simple beginning the idea and measurement of time quickly becomes complex and vastly more complicated. Most people assume they are capable of grasping the concepts of a minute, hour, day, week, month, year, decade and even a century, and how their lives are lived and measured in those terms. But a millennium is more difficult and a galactic year (about 230 million terrestrial years) is beyond imagining…

Riding into the Heart of Patagonia In TK, Nancy Pfeiffer, a TKTK, saddled a horse for the first time in her life. Why? TKTK She and Nimbus journeyed some TK miles along the spine of the arid plains of Southern Chile in search of the last best geography in the Americas.

A calafate seed was growing inside me. The idea was simple: Return to Coyhaique, buy a horse, and head south. The reality was a bit more complicated. Secretly, I doubted my ability, as well as my sanity. Why is it that I insist on doing things that other people never even think about?

Snowmaking in the Time of Drought

THAT THE SIERRA might not be so very nevada one day might have been inconceivable to the Spaniards who named the range, or to members of the Donner Party who struggled through house-high drifts, or to those World War II-era entrepreneurs who built ski lifts reaching to the tops of Mammoth Mountain, Tahoe’s Slide Mountain, Mount Lincoln, Heavenly Peak, and Squaw Peak. But Sierran snow seems to have become more fickle. Although there have been the hallelujah winters