The Second Baby Boom: What to Do if You Find a Baby Squirrel Late summer through early fall isn’t just back-to-school season—it’s back-to-the-nest season for gray squirrels. Yup, these acrobatic little nut hoarders often have a second litter this time of year. Their nests, called dreys, are round bundles of leaves about the size of a basketball, tucked high in the branches. But storms, tree trimming, and construction work can sometimes turn those treetop nurseries into eviction zones. And when that happens, you might just find yourself face-to-face with a tiny, closed-eyed, nearly naked squirrel baby. Henry (left) and Harry (right), at about 3 weeks old. Here’s what to do—and what not to do—if that happens. 1. Check Before You Chop If you can delay major tree work until after baby season, do it. (Timing varies by region, so it’s best to do an internet search to find out when baby season is in your area). But if pruning or removal is a must, always look for nests first. Dreys can be surprisingly camouflaged, so scan carefully for those leafy basketball shapes before you fire up the chainsaw. 2. Give Mom a Chance If a nest falls but the babies seem uninjured, resist the urge to scoop them up right away. Squirrel moms are dedicated (and surprisingly efficient) parents. Mom may move her young to a backup nest within hours—if they’re warm, safe, and undisturbed. (Yup, most squirrel mamas create backup nests just in case, ‘cause they are smart like that.) 3. Step In if They’re Cold or Injured If the babies are clearly hurt, cold, or crying nonstop, it’s time for human intervention—but not DIY squirrel parenting. Place them in a shallow box lined with a soft cloth (no terrycloth or loose threads that could tangle tiny toes) and keep them warm. Then immediately contact a licensed wildlife rehabilitator in your area. You can usually find one through your state’s Department of Natural Resources or local wildlife rescue organizations. (This is a good number to find ahead of when you may need it and store it in your mobile phone for easy and quick reference.) 4. Keep Pets and People Away—Always Even the gentlest pets or kids can accidentally injure or stress out baby wildlife. If you’re holding a rescued squirrel for a rehabber, keep it in a quiet room away from cats, dogs, and curious kids. Baby squirrels are so cute, and it will be tempting to cuddle them and watch them, but the stress from that can lead to their deaths. Take a few photos (rehabbers will often ask for these to assess next steps) and you’ll be able to share those pictures to your heart's content. 5. Remember: Raising Them Yourself Isn’t an Option Squirrel care requires specialized diets, medical attention, and release plans you simply can’t replicate at home. Inexperienced care often leads to illness, injury, or an animal that can’t survive in the wild. The most loving thing you can do is connect them with the professionals. And, if you are in a position to do so, offer a financial contribution to the rehab organization to help with the care. Many rehabs are volunteer-run non-profits with (very) tight budgets. Any donation you can provide will be appreciated. If a monetary donation isn’t in the cards, you may have supplies on hand that can be useful for essential care. Think: soft baby blankets or burp cloths, fleece fabric, locking totes (which rehabbers can drill air holes into), small animal carriers, and even dog crates or bird cages, which are essential to help baby squirrels learn to be outdoors (safely) with room to learn climbing and leaping skills. Our trees are more than just shade providers—they’re nurseries for the next generation of wildlife. A little awareness and a pause before you prune can mean the difference between a squirrel growing up wild and free… or not at all.

Don’t Let Our Parks Become History: How to Fight for the Places You Love If you’ve ever watched a sunrise from a park overlook, dipped your toes in a wild river, or heard the hush of a forest settle in at dusk, you know these places aren’t just “nice to have.” They’re need to have. And right now, they’re in trouble. We could lose more than 350 national parks — yes, hundreds — if proposed budget cuts go through.  The funding that keeps trails maintained, rangers employed, and history preserved is on the chopping block. Which means gates locked, programs canceled, and heritage sites left to crumble. The short version? This isn’t the time to just “hope for the best.” It’s the time to call, write, and make some noise. Why This Matters (Even if You Haven’t Been to Every Park… Yet) Every park has a story — and those stories belong to all of us. They’re the battlegrounds and birthplaces, the homelands and havens, the landscapes that shaped our history and still shape our sense of place. But here’s the thing: without adequate funding and staffing, these places can’t stay open or protected. Imagine Yellowstone without rangers to keep visitors safe from wildlife encounters (and vice versa). Picture the Statue of Liberty’s torch going dark because there’s no one to keep the lights on. Not dramatic — just the reality of severe budget cuts. The Call to Action: Literally Your voice matters more than you think. When Congress hears from actual constituents (not just lobbyists), it makes a difference. Here’s how to turn your love of parks into real action: 1. Call Your Representatives Use the “Find Your Representative” tool at www.house.gov and the Senate contact list at www.senate.gov . Pick up the phone and say: “I’m calling to urge you to oppose any budget cuts to the National Park System. Every park matters, and we need to protect them for future generations.” 2. Show Up at Local Events Join advocacy gatherings, park cleanups, or rallies near you. Search “Park Protectors events” or visit www.npca.org  for opportunities. 3. Spread the Word Post about why you care. Tag friends who love the outdoors. Share photos of your favorite park visits with a note about what’s at stake. Park Protector Toolkit The folks at the National Parks Conservation Association have resources to make this easy — talking points, fact sheets, and even sample social posts you can copy and paste. Grab them here  and keep them handy. Field tip:  Advocacy doesn’t have to be loud or political in the traditional sense. It can be as simple as telling your neighbor, “Hey, did you hear they might close our park?” and then pointing them toward ways to help. Let’s Protect These Places Together Our parks are more than pretty postcards — they’re living classrooms, sacred spaces, and wild sanctuaries. If we don’t speak up now, we risk losing them in ways that can’t be undone. So let’s rally. Let’s flood the phone lines. Let’s make sure every representative knows: Every park matters. Every story counts. And every site deserves protection.

Our favorite Beagle Scout, Snoopy, is celebrating his 75th birthday this month! (That’s 525 in Dog Years!) On August 10, our favorite beagle is the big 7-5 — and honestly, he’s wearing it better than most humans. In true Snoopy style, he’s celebrating outside with his Beagle Scouts. Image: Apple TV – used with permission If you’ve been following Snoopy’s adventures for decades (or just discovered him through the Camp Snoopy series on Apple TV+ ), you know the Beagle Scouts aren’t just about earning badges — they’re about protecting the outdoors, working together, and sneaking in some fun along the way. These pint-sized conservationists were ahead of their time, teaching Leave No Trace values long before it was trendy. Beagle Scouts: Still Leading the Pack The Beagle Scouts celebrated their 50th anniversary in 2024— talk about a double milestone. In Camp Snoopy , Snoopy, Woodstock, and their troop earn badges for things like canoeing, foraging (for trash, not snacks… mostly), and building marshmallow towers. They remind us that exploring outside is way more fun when you’re learning new skills and leaving the place better than you found it. Image: Apple TV – used with permission Join the Troop (No Beagle Required) You don’t have to be a cartoon dog to join the fun. Apple TV+ has a free Camp Snoopy Activity Pack  you can use at camp, in the backyard, or anywhere you feel like channeling your inner Beagle Scout. It’s full of hands-on, conservation-minded activities — from making a “kind deeds” jar to crafting a cardboard canoe regatta. So, here’s to Snoopy: 75 years young, forever ready for adventure, and still proving that life’s better when you’ve got friends, fresh air, and maybe a marshmallow or two.

The Cradle of Forestry in America: Where Forest Science Meets Mountain Air Sponsored by FIND Outdoors , a brand we genuinely love and trust. If you’ve never heard of the Cradle of Forestry in America, here’s the short pitch: it’s a forest school turned hands-on museum, tucked into a gorgeous pocket of Pisgah National Forest called Pink Beds Valley. It’s educational, it’s beautiful, it’s surprisingly fun for kids, and it played a big role in shaping modern U.S. forestry practices. Why It’s Called Pink Beds The name “Pink Beds” comes from early settlers who were wowed by the springtime bloom of pink wildflowers—especially mountain laurel and rhododendron—that blanketed the valley floor. The open, meadow-like setting reminded them of, well, flower beds. These days, the pink isn’t quite as profuse, but you’ll still catch splashes of it in spring and early summer. What’s Actually Here The Forest Discovery Center Part play space, part history lesson: Start here—you can’t miss the big, welcoming building with a surprisingly engaging museum. You can “fly” a helicopter through a simulated forest fire, then crawl into a replica forest floor to meet bugs, roots, and critters up close. It’s built for kids, but adults will totally dig it too. Don’t skip the short film First in Forestry—it’s a quick, entertaining intro to how this place came to be, centered around a guy named Carl Schenck and the early days of forestry education. The storytelling is solid. Just… keep in mind it’s very much a European-American narrative, with zero mention of Indigenous land stewardship that predates it by centuries. The Biltmore Campus Trail This mellow, mostly shaded, one-mile loop takes you past historic cabins and classrooms from the old Biltmore Forest School—America’s first school for professional foresters. Interpretive signs and audio make it easy to imagine what student life looked like in the early 1900s. It’s paved, stroller- and wheelchair-friendly, and a lovely walk even on a hot summer day. The Forest Festival Trail If you want a little more solitude and tree time, this 1.3-mile trail showcases early logging gear, steam-powered machinery, and a climbable 1914 logging train. It’s a quieter walk with some great educational stops along the way. A Quick Forestry Primer The Cradle of Forestry marks the beginning of modern, professional forestry in the U.S.—meaning science-based forest management practices, often modeled after 19th-century European systems. That’s what was taught at the Biltmore Forest School, founded by German forester Carl Schenck in 1898 on George Vanderbilt’s sprawling estate. This approach introduced ideas like sustained yield, selective cutting, and forest regeneration—methods still used by land managers and agencies today. Of course, forests were being wisely managed long before that. For thousands of years, Indigenous communities—including the Cherokee in this region—practiced sophisticated forest stewardship for generations, using methods like controlled burns, selective harvesting, and food forest cultivation (basically, growing layered ecosystems of edible and useful plants long before “permaculture” was a thing). These just weren’t considered “official” science by European standards. So, while this site is often called “the birthplace of forestry,” it’s more accurate to say it’s the birthplace of institutional, Western-style forestry in the U.S. That distinction matters. Worth a Visit? Absolutely. The Cradle of Forestry is a smart, scenic, and totally family-friendly way to connect with forest history. It’s got: Hands-on exhibits that make forest science actually fun Gorgeous, shaded trails perfect for all ages and abilities A peek into conservation history that shaped how public lands are managed today But it’s also worth visiting with a critical lens—appreciating what’s there, while also noticing what’s missing. This content is sponsored by FIND Outdoors . Field Trip always tests products and places before recommending them to our readers. We genuinely love and trust the brands you find featured on our platform.

The Mosquito Bucket Challenge: A Smarter Way to Fight the Bite Ditch the fog. Keep the pollinators. Let’s be honest—mosquito fogging is like using a flamethrower to kill a fly. Sure, it knocks out a few mosquitoes… but it also wipes out bees, butterflies, birds, and pretty much anything else with wings. Enter the Mosquito Bucket Challenge , a gloriously low-tech, pollinator-safe alternative that’s catching on across the country. I first heard about it through Homegrown National Park  (big thanks to them for making this easy to replicate), and now I’m seeing these clever buckets pop up in backyards, at trailheads, and in my social media feeds with a message: there’s a better way. What Is a Mosquito Bucket? It’s exactly what it sounds like: a 5-gallon bucket turned mosquito trap. You fill it with water, a bit of leaf litter or alfalfa pellets (to mimic the standing water mosquitoes love), and add a Bacillus thuringiensis israelensis (Bti) dunk—a naturally derived larvicide that only targets mosquito larvae. Bti is easily found at most hardware or garden stores. No fog, no poisons, no damage to the rest of your backyard ecosystem. Just mosquito control that works, quietly and effectively. Why Buckets Beat Foggers Fogging is a blunt instrument. It temporarily knocks down adult mosquitoes—but it also kills pollinators, beneficial insects, and the birds that feed on them. And mosquitoes? They bounce back. Often stronger. Buckets interrupt the life cycle where it starts: in standing water. They’re cheaper, safer, and smarter—and you don’t need a hazmat suit or a pesticide permit to use one. Let Your Bucket Start the Conversation Want to spread the word without preaching? Homegrown National Park just launched two great resources: The Official Mosquito Bucket Sticker It features a QR code that links directly to the setup guide. Stick it on your bucket, and it becomes an educational tool for anyone walking by. Available as: • A free print-at-home version • A weatherproof 8” x 8” vinyl sticker New One-Page Handout Perfect for community events, garden clubs, or that curious neighbor who always stops to ask questions. The handout  explains the what, why, and how in one easy-to-read sheet. Field Tip: If you don't already have a bucket on hand, you don't need to purchase one. Check out the FAQs at Homegrown National Park  for ideas on where to get free buckets (and save them from a landfill). Little Buckets, Big Ripple You don’t need to be an expert or an activist to make an impact. Just set out a bucket. Every bucket is a quiet win for biodiversity—and a small step toward smarter, more sustainable neighborhoods. Stick a QR code on it. Snap a pic. Share it. And the next time someone brings up fogging, you’ve got a better idea ready to go.

Sexy, Nerdy, Birdy: Why Bird Watching Is Your Next Cool Hobby Sponsored by brands we genuinely love and trust: NOCS Provisions, Haikubox, and Maven. A few years ago, on Mother’s Day, we were on our way to brunch—me, my mom, my husband, and a couple of our kids—when we spotted a small pile of fluff on the ground. A baby bird. And then another. And then two more. Their nest had been destroyed, and, featherless,  they were far too young to fly. We stood there, watching—and worrying. Usually, I’m a “let nature be” kind of gal, but I knew we wouldn’t enjoy brunch knowing those helpless babies were out there with little chance of survival. My husband, Liam—now affectionately known in our family as “St. Francis” (as in the patron saint of animals and all things wild)—sprang into action. I called the South Carolina wildlife hotline to ensure we were helping rather than harming. They were incredible (they even requested photos to assess the situation) and confirmed what we suspected: the babies needed to return to a nest to survive. So Liam got to work. He repurposed a natural basket, added some materials from the forest, climbed up and rigged the new nest into the tree the babies were under, and then—here’s the part that still gets me—gently cradled the chicks into it. (By far the sexiest thing I have ever seen.) We waited, breath held, until the parents returned and began feeding the babies again. We went back week after week to observe “our" babies and their bio parents. It was the best Mother’s Day gift—for me and for the mama bird. And it was also the beginning of something. Not long after that, my St. Francis got into bird-watching in a serious way. And while I still haven’t memorized a single bird call, I’ve learned that bird watching is officially cool—and yes, dare I say, kind of hot. Birding: Not Just for the Birds (or the Boomers) The stereotype of birders as grandpas in socks and sandals doesn’t really hold up anymore. These days, if you show up at a community bird walk or local Audubon meetup, you’ll find all kinds of people—Gen Z, millennials, parents with strollers, twenty-somethings with tattoos and field guides. Birding has quietly become a young person’s sport, and the appeal makes total sense. It’s low-cost. It’s low-pressure. It’s hyperlocal and wildly portable. You can bird watch on a cross-country road trip or from your apartment window. All you really need is a good pair of binoculars, a curiosity about what’s flapping around you, and a little time. Why Bird Watching is a Win (Even if You Don’t Know a Finch from a Flycatcher) It’s a mindfulness practice in disguise.  Birding forces you to slow down, breathe deeper, and look closely. You’ll find yourself standing still in a park for ten minutes because you thought you heard a blue jay—and honestly, when was the last time you just stood still for ten minutes? It’s cheaper than therapy.  Free apps like Merlin Bird ID and eBird do most of the heavy lifting. The only real investment? Binoculars. (More on that in a second.) It’s social… if you want it to be.  Local parks, public lands, and eco-minded community groups often host free intro-to-birding walks—especially during spring migration season. Not a people person? Take an online class or pick up a beginner birding book. It helps you notice things.  Not just birds, but weather patterns, trees, bugs, the shape of the clouds. Birding teaches you to be present, and there’s nothing square about that. What You Really Need to Start Birding Not much! But here’s the breakdown: Liam with the NOCS Provisions Zero Tube Monocular Binoculars or a monocular are your best investment. You want something light, water-resistant, durable, and easy on the eyes (literally and aesthetically). My husband’s a big fan of   NOCS Provisions  for their rugged designs, No-Matter-What Lifetime Warranty, and dreamy natural colors. The   Zero Tube monocular  is perfect for any nature enthusiast and casual birders. It’s waterproof, fog proof, and lightweight but not flimsy. Their   REI-exclusive collaboration with Bird Collective  introduces binoculars that are rubber-armored, built for the elements, and seriously so good-looking that you'll want to show them off around your neck (the strap alone is such a fun pattern). And psst… we’ve got a giveaway for those very binoculars, so keep your eyes peeled for that. Me with the NOCS Provisions X Bird Collective Collab Binoculars For those who want to level up,   Maven’s C.1 binoculars  are seriously top-shelf. They’re made to last a lifetime, with crystal-clear optics and a sleek, no-fuss build that feels like luxury. If you’ve got a budding obsession—or just want gear that grows with you—these are worth the splurge. Maven   is known for their award-winning optics, and since they are only sold directly, there’s no retail markup (which you find with many other high-performance binoculars). Liam with Maven C.1 Binoculars Apps are your new birdwatching besties. Merlin Bird ID  is free and helps you ID birds by sound or sight, and eBird , also free, lets you log sightings and contribute to citizen science. Both are intuitive, fun, and neither will make you feel like you’re cramming for a test. Want to know what birds are hanging around your backyard—even when you’re not looking? Enter the Haikubox . It’s a smart, always-on bird listener that uses AI to detect and alert you to birds by sound. Ours lives on our screened porch near the feeders. The alerts you can set are customizable. We get alerts when new or rare species arrive, and it even tracks patterns over time—like a birdwatching buddy that never sleeps. If you’re trying to ID your mystery morning songster or want to learn which rare migrants are stopping by, Haikubox   is pure gold. Haikubox hangs on our screened porch and alerts us to birds nearby that we want to observe A small notebook (optional). Old-school, yes. But jotting down your first osprey sighting or that weird cardinal-squirrel standoff you saw? Kind of magical. A good spot. Whether it’s a national wildlife refuge, a city park, or your own front porch, birds are everywhere. My Husband, Liam, Field Trip’s Resident Birder I still don’t know all the bird names, but my husband does. He can ID a goldfinch by its song and spot a hawk while driving (safely, I swear). He saved those baby mockingbirds, and ever since, he’s been bringing sexy back to bird watching—at least for me. He’s the kind of guy who packs a monocular on our way to the grocery store “just in case,” and who lights up at the sound of a warbler. He shares fun facts about birds he’s learned with anyone who will listen (you’ve been warned). And there’s something undeniably attractive about someone who’s both obsessed with birds and deeply invested in their place in the ecosystem. So we’ve got a deal:  he spots the birds, I bring the camera, and we wander into the woods together—both of us a little more tuned into the world around us. If you spot a sexy guy in the woods pointing excitedly at a tree and whispering, “Blue-gray gnatcatcher!!”… that’s probably Liam. But hands off—he’s taken. Go find your own breathtaking bird nerd. They’re out there, binoculars and all. This content is sponsored by the brands featured here. Field Trip always tests products before recommending them to our readers. We genuinely love and trust the brands you find featured on our platform.

Ancient Field Science: How the Egyptians Studied Seasons, Stars, and Species They didn’t call it field science. But that’s what it was. Ancient Egypt gets a lot of credit for its pyramids, pharaohs, and very dramatic eye makeup — but honestly? I think their most impressive legacy might be their observation skills. Because underneath the gold and grandeur, this was a civilization that watched. They tracked bird migrations. They timed agriculture to moon phases and river floods. They mapped stars with shocking precision. They created calendars that weren’t just practical — they were poetic. And it hit me, somewhere in the King Tut Immersive Experience: We are not the first to try and read the land. But we might be the first to forget how. A River, a Calendar, a Way of Life The entire Egyptian worldview revolved around the Nile River’s annual flooding. The inundation brought rich silt, allowing crops to grow in what would otherwise be a desert. So being able to predict that flood? Kind of important. Enter: celestial tracking. The flooding of the Nile closely followed the rising of Sirius (the star) in the eastern sky. Egyptians used this star as a seasonal marker — a signal to start preparing for the agricultural season. This helped form the basis of their 365-day calendar — one of the first in the world. (Our modern calendar? It owes a lot to theirs.) But this wasn’t just about farming. It was about understanding their place in the cosmos. The seasons weren’t just months on a chart — they were gods, stories, movements. They meant something. What Else Did They Track? Turns out, ancient Egyptians were pretty dialed in to the natural world. Some examples: Migratory birds — used for food, omens, and inspiration for gods (like Bennu, a phoenix-like heron associated with rebirth). Animal breeding seasons — especially for sacred species like ibises and crocodiles. Plant cycles — certain flowers and herbs (like blue lotus or papyrus) had seasonal, medicinal, and spiritual roles. Moon phases and star patterns — used to guide everything from planting to funerary rituals. This wasn’t a hobby. It was survival — and spirituality. Why It Still Matters We love to think tech has all the answers. But the Egyptians were solving problems with the ultimate analog tools: time, attention, and tradition. We’re only just now swinging back around to the idea that seasonal knowledge matters — especially in the face of climate change. But we’ve got a long way to go. Ancient Egypt might be just the reminder we need. Field Tip: Become Your Own Ancient Naturalist Try this for a month: Track the first and last light of your day. Watch what birds are around — and which disappear. Note which wildflowers bloom, and when. Look for the moon. Every night. Seriously.

Tomb Raiders vs. Caretakers: Who Gets to Protect the Past? I wanted to be an archaeologist. Like, badly. As a kid, I was fascinated by ruins, mummies, artifacts — the whole dusty, mysterious puzzle of the past. My favorite college class? Anthropology. Total nerd alert. When I was little, I told my mom I wanted to be buried when I died so that people could dig me up one day and learn about our culture from my burial. (I’ve since changed my mind. Cremation for me, thanks.) My grandparents had visited Egypt and filled their home with relics and replicas that fueled my obsession — miniature pyramids, papyrus scrolls, and little carved scarabs that I would sneak off the shelf and pretend were ancient treasures. And when Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark hit theaters in 1981, I was only five, but my aunt and uncle took me anyway. My mom thought I was too young — and to be fair, melting Nazi faces probably was a little intense for kindergarten. But I was hooked. Adventures! Treasures! Tombs! But now, decades later, wandering through the King Tut Immersive Experience , I see things a little differently. Because for all the gold and glory, there’s a complicated question buried underneath it all: Who gets to protect the past — and who gets to profit from it? A Short, Messy History of Tomb Raiding Let’s start with the facts: Tomb raiding wasn’t some modern scandal — it started while the paint was still drying. Ancient Egyptians looted each other’s tombs for wealth, power, and even political sabotage. When Howard Carter discovered Tutankhamun’s tomb in 1922, it was one of the few that hadn’t been (completely) ransacked. But Carter’s excavation methods were… let’s just say aggressively colonial. Thousands of Tut’s treasures were boxed up and shipped to Europe. Some made their way back to Egypt. Many didn’t. That kind of extraction wasn’t just about preserving history — it was about control. About deciding who gets to tell the story, and who doesn’t. Sound Familiar? Conservation Has the Same Issues Just like archaeology, modern conservation has had a bumpy ethical track record. Swap sarcophagi for national parks, and you’ll find the same core tensions: “Protecting” land by removing the people who’ve lived there for centuries. Conservation programs that ignore Indigenous knowledge systems. Eco-tourism that treats wild places like playgrounds instead of sacred ground. Natural history museums filled with animal specimens taken without consent or context. The big question is the same: Who gets to decide what’s worth saving — and how? Toward Repatriation and Shared Stewardship Thankfully, both fields are evolving: Museums are increasingly returning artifacts to their countries of origin. Archaeologists are working alongside local and Indigenous communities to study — and protect — sites more collaboratively. Conservation efforts are shifting from fortress-style “no humans allowed” models to co-management practices rooted in community wisdom. Because preserving something is only part of the story. Honoring it — and who it belongs to — is the real goal. What to Look for at the Tut Exhibit If you visit the King Tut Immersive Experience, here’s your ethical side-quest: Read the room: Who’s telling the story? Who’s missing from the narrative? Look at the objects: Do they feel like museum pieces, or sacred remnants? Consider place: The original items were buried in the desert to stay buried. What does it mean that we’ve moved them into exhibits and replicated them for gift shops? It’s not about shame. It’s about curiosity — the kind that digs deeper than gold and glory. Whether you’re in a museum, a forest, or a faraway archaeological site: Who originally lived here? Who is protecting it now? Who profits from it being “preserved”? Who’s missing from this story? Because the past isn’t dead, it’s just waiting for us to ask the right questions.

Lost in the Stars: Escaping the Glow to Find the Best Night Skies Where to go when the city lights are killing your constellation game. Ever stood outside squinting at the sky and thought, “Is that a star or a plane or… nope, just a cell tower?” Light pollution is the real party crasher of the cosmos. But the good news? You don’t have to go full astronaut to find a better view of the galaxy. You just need to get lost in the right direction. Dark sky tourism is booming—for good reason. The chance to stargaze under a truly dark sky isn’t just rare, it’s straight-up magical. Milky Way? Meteor showers? Saturn’s rings in real-time? Here’s how (and where) to chase the cosmos. What’s the Big Deal with Dark Skies? Thanks to artificial light, more than 80% of Americans can’t see the Milky Way from where they live. That’s a bummer—not just for stargazing, but for wildlife, ecosystems, and even our sleep. Dark Sky places , designated by organizations like DarkSky International , are natural refuges from the glare. They’re some of the last spots on Earth where the stars still show off—and they’re worth the trek. Where to Wander: Top Spots to See the Night Sky 1. Great Basin National Park, Nevada Remote, rugged, and wildly underrated. Great Basin is an official Dark Sky Park where you can stargaze at 7,000+ feet—and maybe even hear owls while you’re at it. 2. Cherry Springs State Park, Pennsylvania East Coasters, rejoice. This is one of the best stargazing spots east of the Mississippi . They even have astro-friendly campsites and regular public programs. 3. Big Bend National Park, Texas Big stars, big skies, no big cities nearby. Big Bend has some of the darkest skies in the Lower 48. Catch a ranger-led night hike or just spread a blanket and look up. 4. Cosmic Campground, New Mexico Not just a cool name—it’s the first International Dark Sky Sanctuary in North America . No lights for miles. Just you, your headlamp (on red mode), and the galaxy. 5. Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness, Minnesota A true paddler’s paradise with pristine skies. Plus, if you time it right, you might catch the northern lights. Field Tip: Stargazing Smarts • Red light only:  Use a red flashlight to preserve your night vision (and your neighbors’). • Ditch the phone:  Or at least the screen glow. Apps like Sky Guide or Stellarium are great—just dim the brightness. • Layer up: Even in summer, nights in remote spots can get chilly. • Pack a blanket or camp chair: Neck cramps are not a vibe. • Stay late or overnight: The later it gets, the better the show. The author of this post is a DarkSky advocate. This story is part of The 89 Percent Project, an initiative of the global journalism collaboration Covering Climate Now.

Click Me, Capitalism: A Confession from Prime Days I’ll go first: I broke my Amazon boycott. Yup, Prime Days are here. The siren song of deals so good, they practically cart themselves. And here I am, watching The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel “reruns” on a free Prime trial I swore I wouldn’t activate, and one-clicking a birthday gift I didn’t plan ahead for. And it’s forty percent off. Can you blame me? I mean, maybe you can. But also…  maybe don’t ? The Road to Good Intentions Is Paved with Deals I’ve had an on-again, off-again relationship with Amazon for years. I want to do better. I support my local outdoor gear shop, the independent bookstore, that little handmade gift place with the overpriced candles. But life’s complicated. We are a one-vehicle household, I work from home, and often a week (sometimes two) can go by where I don’t drive anything except the electric golf cart or my bike. Errands? Groceries? The Post Office? My husband takes care of all of those on his way home from work (thanks, babe). Sometimes there are things that I want to choose for myself. And, the reality is, since I left my corporate gig, money is tighter. Sometimes 40% off or two-day shipping saves my butt (or at least I justify the slip by believing so). I’m trying to be mindful of my money in a wildly unpredictable economy where a grocery run feels like a splurge. I’m not proud of it—but I’m also not alone. (Right?!) Why We Click I’ve spent my whole career in the marketing world in one way or another. I know the science behind why we click. It’s not just convenience. Or speed. It’s the dopamine rush of a “deal.” The not-so-subtle language of “only 3 left” and “today only” and “people like you also bought…” It’s psychological warfare — masquerading as retail. And when your brain is already juggling work deadlines, school schedules, rising costs, and the guilt of trying to be a conscious consumer, the idea of researching alternatives can sometimes feel… exhausting. But here’s the kicker: buying from Amazon doesn’t make you a bad person. It makes you human in a broken system. So… Do We Get a Pass? I think the answer is yes. And no. Yes, if you’re living paycheck to paycheck and that Prime Day deal means you can finally afford the school backpack, the pantry staples, the rain jacket your kid needs before camp—then by all means, take it. There’s no guilt in survival. Yes, if you’re doing your best most of the time, and this one purchase helps you stress less, move faster, feel a little more prepared. We all need that sometimes. But no, if we stop asking the hard questions. If we stop looking for better ways. If we let the comfort of convenience keep us from at least trying to shift our habits. Better-Than-Nothing Moves If you’re going to buy during Prime Days or from other big box stores when they are having deals (online or otherwise), here are a few small ways to do it better: Check the brand’s own website first. Many companies match deals on their own sites—and your purchase goes more directly to the source. Choose longer shipping windows. Fewer trucks, fewer emissions. Worth the extra couple of days. Batch your orders. One box instead of three. Less packaging waste. Bonus points for avoiding those maddening plastic air pillows. Go guilty with a friend. If your neighbor or your sister is buying at the same time, combine your purchases to help reduce shipping costs (for you and the planet). Use Amazon Smile alternatives. Smile may be gone, but browser plug-ins like DoneGood  or apps like GoodBuy  can help redirect your dollars to values-aligned shops when you’re not in a rush. Support locals when you can. Even if it’s not every time. That boutique will still cheer for your occasional visit. For small businesses, every sale really does make a difference. Final Thought: Hold the Guilt, Keep the Questions I don’t think shame is the answer. But neither is apathy. So maybe we don’t need to beat ourselves up every time we click “add to cart”—but we do need to stay curious, stay honest, and keep pushing for better options, more transparency, and a system that doesn’t make it so hard to shop with our values.

Storms and Scapegoats: Did Cloud Seeding Drown Texas? No, a tech bro didn’t summon the flood. But climate change might’ve. When disaster hits, it’s human nature to search for a cause—something we can point to and say, “There. That’s the problem.” But when it comes to the deadly floods in Texas, the real problem isn’t a young tech founder or a weather plane—it’s climate change. And it’s been coming for a long time. Still, conspiracy theories are quick to rise when emotions are high and answers feel unsatisfying. Lately, a new scapegoat has emerged: cloud seeding. Let’s break down why cloud seeding didn’t cause the Texas floods—and why believing it did is more dangerous than it seems. What the Heck Is Cloud Seeding? Yeah, I had never heard of it either. According to the U.S. National Science Foundation (NSF), cloud seeding is a form of weather modification, not weather creation. In simple terms, it involves spraying particles—usually silver iodide or calcium chloride—into existing clouds to encourage rain or snow to form. These particles act as nuclei that water vapor can condense around, sometimes boosting precipitation by 5 to 15% under ideal conditions. But here’s the catch: it only works when moisture is already in the atmosphere. No clouds? No seeding. No storm system? No dice. “Cloud seeding does not create clouds. It can only enhance existing precipitation,” says a representative from NSF’s National Center for Atmospheric Research (NCAR). It’s been used since the 1940s to enhance snowfall in ski resorts, reduce hail damage on farms, or attempt to wring a little more rain out of drought-stricken skies. It is not capable of generating multi-day, multi-county weather systems. It’s a nudge, not a lever. Does that mean there are no ethical, political, or environmental concerns regarding cloud seeding? No. But that is a story for another time. So What Actually Happened in Texas? Central and southeastern Texas has experienced catastrophic flooding. Rain totals in some areas topped 15 inches, overwhelming rivers, roads, and entire towns. People have been displaced, homes have been lost, and communities are left underwater. People have died. Two days prior to the storms, a small startup called Rainmaker reportedly conducted a brief cloud seeding operation—about 20 minutes—over Karnes County, Texas. One small-scale weather enhancement flight in one location. This was enough for conspiracy theories to explode online: accusations of “weather tampering,” “geoengineering,” and “climate manipulation” began trending across social platforms. That single flight got blamed for flooding across hundreds of miles. The Science Doesn’t Back It Up Here’s why the cloud seeding conspiracy doesn’t hold water: Scale matters: Cloud seeding is highly localized and works on a very small scale—one part of one cloud, not entire states. It doesn’t create storms: There were already massive storm systems forming across Texas due to atmospheric conditions well beyond anyone’s control. There’s no scientific evidence linking that flight to any increased rainfall in the days that followed. Even in ideal conditions, cloud seeding often fails to yield measurable results, which is why its effectiveness remains debated among meteorologists and researchers. Why the Real Danger Is Misdirection Cloud seeding is not a dangerous conspiracy—it’s a modest weather management tool. But hyping it up as the cause of major disasters is both scientifically wrong and dangerously distracting. Why? Because it pulls our focus away from the real, evidence-backed culprit: climate change. The Earth is getting warmer. Warmer air holds more moisture. That means when storms form, they can dump significantly more rain than they did in decades past. This is especially true in the Gulf South, where warming oceans and intense heat waves are supercharging the storm systems that move inland. When we blame floods on shadowy weather experiments instead of fossil fuels, outdated infrastructure, and decades of deregulation, we let the true drivers off the hook. Field Tip:  If you hear someone blaming cloud seeding for natural disasters, ask them for peer-reviewed science, not screenshots. And remind them: just because something sounds shady doesn’t make it the reason communities flooded. We don’t fix the climate crisis by chasing shadows. We fix it by facing facts. This story is part of The 89 Percent Project, an initiative of the global journalism collaboration Covering Climate Now.

Your Field Trip Just Got a Dress Code Field Trip Outfitters shop is open! Remember when you said, “Hey, I’d totally rock a Field Trip tee”? We heard you—and then went full gear-nerd.   Why You’ll Love Our Merch Sustainability built in. 100% cotton tees, recycled-bottle sweatshirts, and eco-ink prints, all produced through Bonfire’s low-waste model. Head-to-toe options. Tees and muscle tanks, cozy crews, sling bags, camp-ready mugs, printed hats, and more to come. Planet first—literally. Field Trip is a proud 1% for the Planet member, so at least 1% of profits from every Outfitters  purchase support conservation organizations. (Bonfire handles the printing; we handle the giving.)   Thanks for taking Field Trip from screen to IRL—and for giving your closet a little conservation cred while you’re at it. You look good in sustainability.   See you outside (we’ll be the ones in matching tees), The Field Trip Crew