When I visited the Lebanon Solid Waste and Recycling Facility (also known as The Landfill) last week, this is what I saw: Fresh snow and a sparkling blue sky. The air smelled clean and the earth seemed to breath. The steam had just settled on the freshly turned compost piles and tracks from the machines that accomplished that task seemed like snakes in the snow. For almost a year, I've been documenting the Landfill and have not been surprised by the tons of waste dumped onto the ground, creating a mountain where there had once been a valley. I have been in awe, however, at the raw beauty of this rugged piece of earth in our midst and the artful way the crew at the landfill sculpts our garbage every day. I love how landfills contain the waste from our lives, no matter who we are or where we come from. Beneath the skillful manipulation of soil and wood chips mixed with our garbage, lies all of us, mixed and mingled together. The universality of this reality humbles and invites pause. This discarded organic tomato soup carton could be mine. And how strange to see one of the organic produce bags from the Co-op stuck in the mud. As a photographer, I love the yellow against the dark earth and the way the sun makes the plastic shine. As a naturalist, I am saddened. Will one of the crows or other birds that visits this open land be poisoned by the plastic? A few minutes later, when the sun went behind a cloud, it was not the play of light, but the play of textures and tones that caught my eye, and the way the color of the ground shifted from raw black soil to brown shredded bark to a layer of plastic and then on to the snow-covered hillside. And here was this massive vehicle whose sole job is to smash it all up, but which, in the process, creates these elegant circles in the soil. To manage our waste, the landfill crew harnesses a complex mix of engineering, biology, chemistry and art. It's all about containment - How to safely entomb our garbage so that it stays where we put it, does not leach toxic runoff or become a landslide, or explode from noxious gases. When at The Landfill this past week I thought about our current struggles with the Covid-19 pandemic. Just as our waste is mixed and mingled so too are we all in this complex crisis together. Our challenge though, is that as a society, we don't have the tools we need or the necessary systems in place to manage a crisis of this magnitude. For me, it's not hard to manage what I know or to plan for things I understand. Like in this discarded tax preparation worksheet from 1992, I can do whatever calculations I must. But when confronted with variables I do not understand that are beyond my control, I become a bit befuddled. While at The Landfill last week, though, the manager indicated that they were receiving 35% less waste than just two weeks before. He suggested that it's like everyone & everything is taking a deep breath and a giant pause. Maybe, I thought, that is what the earth and each one of us needs right now...as long as we care for each other along the way...because we are most definitely in this together... ...pausing
at the landfill or at home, or wherever we may be right now. Welcome to the first day of Spring. We woke to a light dusting of snow and are a bit disappointed by yet another cloudy day. But it is, after all, March in New Hampshire and we are experiencing a global pandemic. So the fact that The Green is empty and stores are closed is real. So too is compost. The narcissus may be done, but they are still making lemon curd at Umpleby's and we are still eating bananas. In the midst of disappointed teenagers at home, I return, as always, to the colors, shapes & textures of my compost pile. My gratitude for this pile is deep. Year after year it transforms waste into nourishment for gardens while at the same time inviting me to be patient, get my hands dirty, and remember that sometimes life is really messy. As if by magic, though, creativity emerges over and over again out of the apparent mess. It should be no surprise to you, then, that I have more photographs of coffee filters. Who knows how long the supply will last, but they are such a simple way for me to connect with my sister, Sarah Swett, who keeps making things out of these funny pieces of paper. And in the process, I pay closer attention to what was once just another part of the waste I collected each week from Umpleby's Bakery & Cafe in Hanover, NH. Coffee filters, it turns out are beautiful. For me, It's so much more than textures & subtle muted tones. It's all about how these filters seemed to talk to me earlier today, and made me laugh as I folded them & prepared to mail them to my sister in Idaho. It all seemed so funny, how I packaged them up, but am waiting two weeks to send them, for fear I might have The Virus and might unknowingly mail it to my sister whose husband has cancer and definitely can't get this thing. So once again my compost and all its associated projects invite patience and humor. This really is all quite messy... ...and beautiful, because even though we may be thousands of miles apart, we are together, exploring these funny pieces of paper and wondering what will emerge from it all. So after I finish this blog post, I will go upstairs to cut our daily grapefruit - one for each member of the family every day for as long as supplies last. During times of stress and uncertainty, I like routines. I like this habit of culling & cleaning coffee filters to send to my sister. I like making something healthy for our family on a regular basis. And I like making sure we laugh about the fact it's a Thursday & my kids are eating breakfast at 2 pm just when I'm having my mid afternoon snack. It's all part of a new routine and I'm OK with all of that... ...because it is March and even though it seems dark and gray and lonely to be stuck at home, I know that the bulbs will emerge from the frozen earth & spring will come, because that's nature's routine, and I'm good with that. PS
It is still Women's History Month...so let's support each other as much as we can from afar. For inspiration of all kinds, check out my friend Jennifer Jewell's Podcast Cultivating Place - - The January episodes were all about the therapeutic and spiritual capacities of our gardens - in all their forms. We need that now, more than ever. |
Lyn Swett Miller
reframing the narrative, one day, one image at a time Let's ReFrame: By Degrees
A place where photographer Lyn Swett Miller considers wonder, joy and transformation in a complex world. Archive
September 2021
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