Sprouting Intentions for 2026
- Brooke Orr
- 3 hours ago
- 4 min read
Beth: I’ve never been a New Year’s Resolution follower as it often results in unrealistic expectations for change. Rather, here at the Lower Shore Land Trust I hope to broaden my skills and learn more from the land surrounding us. Being better able to understand the ways nutrients impact soils, taking time to sharpen my lens, observing the close up path of certain insects or turtles and learning the names of butterflies, these are goals I have for the coming year. And, being able to identify in the field at least 2 new birds without counting on Jared Parks giving the answers!
Brooke: This year, I want to listen to my body more.
In the busyness of life, I often anticipate what my body needs - three meals, water, sleep, etc. I move through my days assuming consistency, even though I know that isn’t how living things work.
I see this most clearly in the plants I care for in my apartment. Daily, I check their soil. I notice which leaves are drooping and which ones are stretching toward the light. Their needs shift, and I adjust to ensure they’re happy.
Like those plants sitting on my windowsills, our bodies respond to the conditions around them. Of course, I need to eat, drink, and sleep to survive. But I’m learning there’s value in pausing long enough to notice what my body wants: what it’s craving, how much rest it’s asking for, when it needs stillness instead of pushing through.
It feels strange that this kind of attention isn’t more instinctive, like it should happen without effort. Yet the more I talk with people around me, the more I realize many of us are trying to relearn the same skill.
So this year, I’m choosing to check in daily. To listen. And to care for my body with the same patience I try to give my plants.
Jared: I don’t usually make New Year’s resolutions, but when I do, I tend to lean towards moderation. In my experience, I find absolutes to be absolutely worthless. If I am going to make a meaningful change, I know that I need to take a measured instead of an all-or-nothing approach. The latter tends to lead to a quick failure… the former, potential success. I am not sure what I will ultimately decide on December 31, but I can assure you that it won’t be particularly profound.
Lauren: I have a tradition every year with my best friends where we write our new year’s resolutions together and then record them to watch the next year. These resolutions are more than just goals; they are a vision for what I can become in the upcoming year. Last year, I decided to represent this by creating a word map, with one word in the middle that encompasses all the branches. If I were to choose a word of focus for the next year at LSLT, it would be Discover.
Learning about LSLT’s past 35 years, I can see how this team has developed this land trust and how it has flourished into what it is today. I'm excited to discover more about what we do and how I can best propel our mission. I hope to grow my “discover-er’s” skills: the quick senses to take notice of the nature around me, the imagination to see the future of landscape conservation, and the creativity to problem-solve my way to that future.
Margot: I love my office window. Every day, it gives me the gift of a close-up view of our beautiful Pocomoke River. I’ve lived in Snow Hill for 30 years, and this river has been my companion, my therapist, my muse, my walking buddy. It seems like a paradox to say that a dynamic, ever-changing and unpredictable body of water could provide grounding. But somehow, this is the very thing about it that calms me. I’ve sought its quiet wisdom over the years when dealing with grief, loss, anxiety and overwhelm. I’ve experienced my life’s most precious moments raising my children near its magic. I’ve walked along its banks, stopping to soak in the view, to feel its pulse: some days still and smooth as glass, others turbulent and seemingly fighting itself in all directions, but knowing exactly what it’s doing. Some days, its volume expands and threatens to encroach the land, others, it retreats quietly to rest below the line markings. But it has a constancy, and I know no matter what is happening in my life, it remains my faithful and steady anchor. It ‘rights’ me. So, although the calendar is changing, and we mark one year ending and another beginning, I resolve to continue listening to the wisdom of this wise and timeless waterway, the Pocomoke River.
Matt: As we turn the page on another year, I’ve been thinking about what a “resolution” means in the context of land conservation. Our work is, by definition, long-term. We protect land not for a season or a funding cycle, but for generations. Still, the start of a new year offers a moment to pause, take stock, and recommit.
My New Year’s resolution as Executive Director of the Lower Shore Land Trust is simple in concept but ambitious in practice: to slow down just enough to listen more deeply to our landowners, partners, staff, and to the land itself, while continuing to move our mission forward with clarity and care. I’m also committing to celebrate our collective wins more often, both large and small. From new easements and flourishing meadows to successful community events and quiet stewardship visits, these moments matter. They remind us that conservation is not abstract; it is lived, local, and built together.
