Eye on the Rainforest

Elementor #17455

Beyond the Razor Grass — Part Two

A forest revealed!

The first Global Works team had broken through the barrier. They reopened the way into a part of the forest that had been inaccessible since Hurricane Maria and helped us rediscover trees planted many years ago. But reaching the planted trees was only the beginning. A second Global Works team—25 teenagers accompanied by staff members Lauren, Sam, and Darielys—arrived on 11th July ready to continue the work. Led in the forest by 3t Vakil and Jon Warwick, the group moved beyond the newly opened access route and deeper into the area where mahogany, ausubo, and Blue Mahoe trees had been planted.

Scleria secans is a large, scrambling sedge native to tropical America. Unlike a true grass, it belongs to the sedge family, Cyperaceae. Its triangular stems and long leaves have razor-sharp, saw-like margins capable of cutting exposed skin—hence the fitting name “razor grass.”Scleria is a genus of approximately 200 flowering plant species, commonly known as nutrushes. They are found mainly throughout the tropics, although some species extend into temperate regions. The genus name comes from the Greek word for “hardness,” referring to the plants’ characteristically tough seeds.

This time, we were no longer simply trying to find a way through. The goal was to begin clearing the razor grass from around the planted trees themselves, opening enough space to see the forest properly, assess the trees, and move safely through the area.The razor grass had occupied every available opening created by Hurricane Maria. Its long, sharp leaves tangled together with vines and other vigorous vegetation, concealing the ground and obscuring even substantial trees. Clearing it required patience and close teamwork. The teenagers worked steadily with gloves, loppers, and pruning shears, cutting carefully and passing the vegetation away from the trees.

Little by little, the character of the place began to change. Individual tree trunks emerged from the tangled growth. Space opened between them. The steep contours of the hillside became visible again. We could finally look across an entire section of the planted forest rather than catching only brief glimpses through a wall of razor grass.

Our neighbor Mike Alvarez joined the team once again, as did local teenager Rio Collazo, who returned to lend her energy and enthusiasm to the day’s work. Monique Nieves was once again our chef, keeping the entire team well fed and restoring everyone’s energy after hours of demanding work in the forest. Her delicious food and generous care are always an essential part of these long volunteer days.

By the end of the day, a whole area was clear. For the first time in years, we could stand back and see the forest.The difference was remarkable. Mahoganies, Ausubos, and Blue Mahoe trees now stood visibly among the naturally regenerating forest. Some had grown tall and straight; others had adapted to storms, competition, and changing light. Around them were ferns, mosses, fungi, young native trees, and the remains of fallen trunks slowly returning to the soil.The work did more than make the area look clearer.

Removing the dense grass and vines gave us access to inspect the planted trees, monitor their condition, and identify where future stewardship will be needed. It also reopened space for the forest canopy to continue closing over the site. As shade increases, the sun-loving razor grass should gradually lose some of its advantage.

There was something deeply satisfying about seeing this progression across two Global Works teams. The first group made the breakthrough and brought us back to the trees. The second carried the work forward, expanding the opening until a hidden plantation became a visible forest once again.The teenagers may have arrived seeing a hillside covered in difficult vegetation.

By the end of the day, they could see the result of their collective effort: a real and dramatic transformation.This is how long-term forest stewardship happens. One tree is planted. Years pass. Storms intervene. Trails disappear. Then many hands return—cutting, clearing, observing, and caring—and another chapter in the life of the forest begins.The razor grass had hidden this place for years. Now, at last, we can see the forest beyond it.

By the end of the day, they could see the result of their collective effort: a real and dramatic transformation.This is how long-term forest stewardship happens. One tree is planted. Years pass. Storms intervene. Trails disappear. Then many hands return—cutting, clearing, observing, and caring—and another chapter in the life of the forest begins.The razor grass had hidden this place for years. Now, at last, we can see the forest beyond it.

Photos by Mike Alvarez and 3t Vakil, 11 July 2026

by thrity July 4, 2026

Globalworks Teen Team: Beyond the razor grass! 29th June 2026

Beyond the Razor grass: a reunion in the rainforest

There are places in the forest that become almost mythical. You know they are there. You remember planting the trees, carrying saplings carefully on slopes, and imagining what the forest might look like years into the future. But then time, storms, and circumstance create barriers, and those places slip beyond reach.

One such place exists at Las Casas de la Selva. Following Hurricane Maria, the forest changed dramatically. Vast areas lost much of their canopy, and suddenly sunlight poured onto the forest floor. Nature, of course, does not leave empty spaces unoccupied for long. A profusion of sun-loving plants surged upward, among them one of our most formidable adversaries: razor grass.

Razor grass (Scleria secans), is aptly named. Its leaves are sharp enough to cut exposed skin, and it forms dense, tangled masses that can become nearly impenetrable. Along with other vigorous grasses and vines, it quickly reclaimed the disturbed areas of the forest. Trails vanished. Landmarks disappeared. Slopes we had once visited regularly became hidden behind walls of green.

One of these lost places was a hillside which had been planted with Ausubo, Mahogany and Blue Mahoe back in the late 80s and where, in my era, we had planted trees in the growing forest in 2000, 2001, 2007, 2008, and 2009. On those steep slopes, we had planted more mahoganies, more ausubos, and mahoe trees, believing that one day they would become part of the next generation of forest. And after Hurricane Maria in 2017, we simply could not get back in. Years passed.

The trees continued growing somewhere beyond the razor grass. We wondered about them often. Had they survived? Had they been overtaken by vines? Had landslides damaged the site? Were there still trees standing where we had once planted saplings no taller than us? This summer, we finally had the opportunity to find out.

Twenty teenagers and three staff arrived at Las Casas as part of a Global Works group. From the beginning, the young people threw themselves wholeheartedly into the task. Armed with gloves, loppers, and pruning shears, as well as plenty of enthusiasm, they set about reopening the spaces between trees, access to the forgotten slope. Progress was slow. Every metre had to be earned.

Several groups before this team had also put in hard labor to enable us to get in further down slope. Razor grass resisted every advance, its long floating tendrils looking innocently like grass, dense growth grabbing at clothes like angry velcro. Yet the group remained cheerful, determined, and remarkably hard-working. Gradually, a path began to emerge. Then came one of those magical moments.

The forest opened, and suddenly, there they were. Trees. Not saplings. TREES! Mahoganies reaching skyward; Ausubos establishing themselves confidently on the slope; Blue Mahoe trees thriving in the recovering forest.

Some were far larger than any of us had imagined. They had not simply survived. They had grown. They had persisted through hurricanes, torrential rains, and years of neglect and isolation. For 3t, it was an especially emotional moment.

To stand among these planted trees was deeply moving. There was an almost childlike joy in rediscovering them.
"They made it!"

Sunlight filtered through recovering canopies. Mosses, fungi, and tall ferns carpeted fallen logs. Young trees occupied gaps left by the hurricane. Birds moved through the branches overhead. Everywhere there were signs of renewal and resilience. It was also a powerful reminder of one of the fundamental lessons of forestry and restoration work: trees operate on timescales far longer than our own immediate concerns.

When we planted these seedlings in 2000, 2001, 2007, 2008, and 2009, we were making a commitment to a future we could barely imagine. Hurricanes came and altered our plans. Trails disappeared. Life changed. Yet the trees kept growing.

Forestry teaches patience, and it rewards you with moments like this.

For the teenagers, the experience became much more than a day of clearing vegetation. They were not simply cutting a path. They were reconnecting us with a piece of our own history. They helped reveal nearly twenty years of forest growth and allowed us to witness the remarkable resilience of both planted trees and the ecosystems that surround them. The work was also a beautiful example of collaboration.

Monique Nieves kept everyone well fed with a delicious meal that restored energy after long hours in the field. 3t and Jon Warwick led the work crews with enthusiasm and determination, guiding the students through challenging terrain and sharing stories of the forest's history. Rio Collazo, age 15, volunteered with the group and helped in all areas. Mike Alvarez, a neighbor, recently back on the island after a lifetime away, joined the activity, to see what we get up to here in the mountains!

The Global Works staff, Lauren, Nahely, and Darielys, were wonderful partners, supporting the group and helping create an atmosphere of curiosity, teamwork, and adventure. By the end of the day, we had reopened access to a place we thought might remain hidden indefinitely. More importantly, we had rediscovered something precious.

Learn more about how to participate in a Teenage Globalworks adventure, see link below.

Conservation work often unfolds quietly. The victories are rarely dramatic. They come in seedlings taking root, forests slowly recovering, and young people choosing to spend their day cutting through razor grass so that others can reconnect with trees planted long ago.

Photos by Mike Alvarez & 3t Vakil, 29 June 2026

It was heartwarming to welcome back Darielys Dijol Mercedes.

In 2023, she first came to Las Casas de la Selva as a 17-year-old participant with a Global Works group, experiencing the rainforest and conservation work firsthand.

Just three years later, she returned in a very different role, as a Global Works facilitator, helping lead and inspire a new generation of teenagers.

Watching young people grow into leaders who then guide others through these same experiences is one of the greatest rewards of educational and conservation work.

We were delighted to have local teenager Rio Collazo, age 15, join the Global Works group as a volunteer.

Rio has been eager to become involved at Las Casas de la Selva and embraced the opportunity with enthusiasm. She was helpful in every area, lending a hand wherever it was needed; sensitive to group dynamics whilst out in the field, and an invaluable member of the team.

It was wonderful to see her positive energy, willingness to work with others, and genuine interest in the forest and its conservation. Photo of Rio with her father, Angel, a neighbor and very good friend of the project.

Learn more about how to get on a Puerto Rico teenage Globalworks adventure: https://www.globalworkstravel.com/

Uncategorized

by thrity June 19, 2026

Planting the Future: 4 Decades of Forest Stewardship in Patillas, PR.

A New Generation of Mahogany
These Swietenia × aubrevilleana (hybrid mahogany) seedlings are only about one month old, but they represent decades of commitment to sustainable forestry and rainforest stewardship at Las Casas de la Selva in Patillas, Puerto Rico.

Every seedling in our nursery carries forward a vision that began more than forty years ago: demonstrating that valuable tropical hardwoods can be cultivated within a living rainforest while protecting biodiversity, watersheds, and ecological integrity.

The Las Casas Sustainable Forestry Project

When the first mahogany seedlings were planted at Las Casas in the 1980s, the goal was not simply to grow timber. The project sought to explore whether tropical forestry could be integrated into a functioning rainforest ecosystem.

Over the years, more than 40,000 trees were planted across the mountainsides of Las Casas de la Selva. These plantings occurred alongside the protection of hundreds of acres of native forest, creating a landscape where conservation, research, education, and sustainable forestry could coexist.

The work attracted researchers, students, volunteers, and forestry professionals from around the world, contributing to a growing understanding of tropical forest restoration and management.

Four Decades of Growth

Today, those early plantings have matured into a thriving forest. The trees have endured hurricanes, landslides, droughts, and decades of natural succession. They have become part of the broader rainforest ecosystem, providing habitat, stabilizing soils, and contributing to the recovery of degraded lands.

The young seedlings shown here represent the next generation of that effort. Their future stretches far beyond the nursery beds where they are growing today.

From Forest Stewardship to Puerto Rico Hardwoods

The experience gained through more than four decades of forest stewardship at Las Casas eventually led to the creation of Puerto Rico Hardwoods.

What began as an effort to understand, restore, and responsibly manage tropical forests evolved into a commitment to ensuring that locally grown and salvaged wood could be used productively. Puerto Rico Hardwoods was founded on the belief that wood is a valuable renewable resource and that recovering and utilizing local timber can support both environmental stewardship and economic resilience.

The knowledge gained in the forest continues to guide the work done in the woodyard.

An Act of Optimism

Forestry is an act of optimism.

The person who plants a tree may never sit beneath its shade or see it reach maturity. A mahogany planted today may take decades before it reaches its full potential. Yet each seed planted is a vote of confidence in the future.

At Las Casas de la Selva, we continue that work—one seed, one seedling, and one forest at a time.

Las Casas de la Selva, Patillas, Puerto Rico
Growing trees for future generations since 1983.
3t Vakil, June 2026

School Groups Service work Shoulder to Shoulder

by thrity June 18, 2026

Shoulder-to-Shoulder: Clearing the way for tomorrow’s forest, 14 & 18 June 2026

Shoulder-to-Shoulder: Young hands preparing tomorrow’s forest

This June, Las Casas de la Selva had the pleasure of welcoming not one but two remarkable groups through the Shoulder-to-Shoulder (SStS) program. One group was made up of students from Thayer Academy, Braintree, Massachusetts, and their staff, Sarah, Matt, and Leanna, and the second brought together high school students from across the United States, with staff Cassandra, Jim, and Ben. Though they came from different schools, backgrounds, and communities, they shared something important: a willingness to work hard, learn deeply, and contribute to something larger than themselves.

Their task was not glamorous; they took on a most important and physically demanding job in rainforest restoration—clearing hillsides of fern and razor grass in preparation for future tree planting.

Anyone who has worked in a tropical mountain forest knows that preparing a site for planting is often harder than the planting itself. Steep slopes, dense vegetation, and the relentless growth of tropical plants like razor grass require determination and teamwork. Yet these students embraced the challenge. Armed with loppers, hand tools, gloves, and a great deal of enthusiasm, they cleared pathways and planting areas that will soon become home to new trees.

The work was led by Jon Warwick, who guided the crews with patience, good humor, and an eye for both safety and purpose. Under his leadership, the students learned that restoration is not simply about planting trees. It is about understanding landscapes, working as a team, and recognizing that meaningful environmental stewardship often begins with tasks that demand persistence and care.

Every branch cut and every patch of hillside cleared represented an act of preparation for something that may take decades to fully reveal itself. Forest restoration is an exercise in optimism. The people who prepare the ground may never sit beneath the full canopy of the trees they make possible. Yet they work anyway; their efforts are an investment in the future.

At Las Casas de la Selva, we often say that forests are built by many hands over many years. The rainforest surrounding us today bears the marks of countless volunteers, researchers, students, and staff who have contributed their labor since the project began more than four decades ago. Trails, nurseries, drainage systems, restoration sites, and young forests all exist because people chose to invest their time and energy in a place they may only know briefly.

The students of Shoulder-to-Shoulder became part of that continuing story.

Their visit also reflected the larger mission of Shoulder-to-Shoulder itself. Founded in 2007 in response to a simple but profound question—“What can we do?”—the organization was created to provide students with opportunities to explore real-world challenges and discover meaningful ways to engage with them. What began with one school, thirty students, and three nonprofit partners has grown into a global network that now spans four continents, twelve program sites, and numerous partner schools and organizations.

At the heart of Shoulder-to-Shoulder is a belief that the world’s challenges require ethical leadership. The organization seeks to inspire and support generations of leaders who understand that progress cannot be measured solely by economic growth, but must also account for social responsibility and environmental stewardship. Ethical leadership asks people to work collaboratively, think critically, and act with an awareness of how their decisions affect communities and ecosystems.

These values were visible throughout the students’ time at Las Casas.

Rainforest restoration is, by its very nature, an ethical act. It requires people to consider timescales beyond their own lives and to make choices that benefit future generations. It asks participants to appreciate the intricate relationships between forests, watersheds, biodiversity, and human well-being. Most importantly, it reminds us that meaningful environmental work is rarely accomplished alone.

Shoulder-to-Shoulder’s model recognizes this reality. By bringing together schools, nonprofits, businesses, and philanthropists, the organization creates opportunities for collaboration across sectors that might not otherwise meet. It demonstrates that complex global problems require partnerships and shared responsibility.

For many of the students, this experience was also a lesson in the value of physical work. Clearing vegetation on steep rainforest slopes under tropical conditions demands endurance and resilience. The labor encourages teamwork and reveals something that is increasingly difficult to experience in modern life: the satisfaction of accomplishing something tangible with one’s own hands.

At the end of each day, tired but smiling students returned from the hillsides knowing they had made a real contribution. The cleared areas awaiting planting are visible evidence of their efforts, but perhaps the greater result is less tangible. Experiences like these often plant seeds of another kind.

A student who has spent a day clearing a hillside for future forest restoration may never again think of trees as abstract environmental symbols. Forests become places that require care, patience, and human commitment. Conservation becomes something one participates in rather than merely discusses.

And, of course, no day of hard work in the rainforest would have been complete without good food. While Jon led the crews in the field, 3t made sure everyone returned to delicious home-cooked lunches, and a talk after lunch about the project. Sharing meals together is another important part of the experience—a time to rest, laugh, reflect on the day’s work, and build friendships across schools and communities. Sometimes moments around a table often become some of the most enduring memories of service experiences. They remind us that community is built not only through shared labor but also through shared meals, conversations, and moments of appreciation.

As we look at the cleared hillsides and anticipate the upcoming tree planting, we are grateful to both Shoulder-to-Shoulder groups for their energy, curiosity, and willingness to contribute. The trees that will one day grow there will stand as living reminders that restoration begins with preparation and that meaningful change often starts with people who are willing to ask a simple question:

What can we do?

This year, the answer was clear. They came to a rainforest in Puerto Rico, picked up tools, worked together on steep hillsides, shared meals, and helped prepare the ground for a forest that future generations will inherit. That is ethical leadership in action.

Thanks to Bill Cotter, Director of International Programs SStS, for bringing these teams to us.

Uncategorized

by thrity June 17, 2026

The slender giants of Las Casas de la Selva, June 2026

Swietenia × aubrevilleana

Swietenia × aubrevilleana is a remarkable hybrid mahogany, combining the qualities of small-leaf mahogany (Swietenia mahagoni) and big-leaf mahogany (Swietenia macrophylla). Line-planted within growing secondary forest at Las Casas de la Selva, Patillas, during the mid-1980s, many of these trees have now reached over three decades of growth, forming tall, straight trunks that rise elegantly through the rainforest canopy.

This hybrid was selected for its excellent timber potential, combining the superior form and vigor of its parent species with an ability to thrive under the challenging conditions of Puerto Rico’s steep mountain terrain. Today, 36-year-old specimens stand as living evidence that sustainable tropical forestry can coexist with biodiversity conservation. Surrounded by recovering rainforest, these slender giants demonstrate how carefully planned enrichment planting can produce valuable hardwood while maintaining the ecological integrity of the forest.

The story of these trees also helped inspire the creation of Puerto Rico Hardwoods (PRH). Long before PRH began recovering and milling urban and storm-felled timber, its founders gained firsthand experience in forestry, forest management, and wood utilization through the Las Casas de la Selva Sustainable Forestry Project in Patillas. The lessons learned among these growing mahoganies—about stewardship, long-term thinking, and the value of wood as a renewable resource—continue to shape PRH’s work today. (https://www.facebook.com/prhardwoods/)

Artist Residency Arts Events

by thrity June 7, 2026

Where storytelling meets the forest: Gregg Dugan, writer-in-residence, March/April 2026

Where storytelling meets the forest: Gregg Dugan, writer-in-residence, March/April 2026

Art, science, and the watershed: forests, friendships, and futures.

Some relationships are measured not in months or years, but in landscapes.

Las Casas de la Selva has always been shaped by long-term commitments: trees planted decades ago that now tower above the forest canopy, research projects unfolding across generations, and friendships that continue to evolve alongside the land itself.

Among those enduring relationships is that between Gregg Dugan and Thrity (3T) Vakil. Their shared history stretches back decades through expeditions, storytelling, conservation work, filmmaking, construction, work with teenagers, and creative collaboration. Gregg is not simply a visitor to Las Casas; he is part of its story.

An early member of the Institute of Ecotechnics, Dugan served as the lead builder of El Teatro in the early 2000s and the open-air gathering space that has become one of the cultural hearts of Las Casas de la Selva. Built through the efforts of teen volunteers, local materials, ingenuity, and persistence, El Teatro has hosted students, researchers, artists, volunteers, musicians, performances, discussions, and countless moments of community life. Like the forest itself, it has weathered storms, adapted, and endured.

But Dugan’s connection to the land goes much deeper than construction.

Over the years, he spent extended periods living in a tent in Icaco Valley, immersed in the rhythms of the rainforest and documenting the landscape through video, writing, and observation. Much of that material now serves as an invaluable archive, capturing earlier stages of the forest’s development and preserving moments that have become increasingly important as the project matures. Footage shot more than twenty years ago shows young plantations, newly planted cacao seedlings, volunteer activities, and landscapes that have since transformed dramatically.

Today, those archives provide living evidence of ecological change. Trees that appeared as saplings in early recordings now rise high above the valley floor. Trails have shifted, forests have matured, and entire chapters of Las Casas history remain preserved through Dugan’s lens.

During a return visit in 2026, 3T and Dugan revisited some of the cacao plantings in Icaco Valley and found trees that had grown to maturity and were producing fruit. Many of these were among the cacao trees that Dugan himself planted more than twenty years earlier. A small number of pods were harvested for propagation, creating a tangible link between past efforts and future plantings, carrying forward a vision that continues to evolve.

For more than twenty years, 3T has continued planting trees across the property, including tropical timber species, native trees, and endangered Puerto Rican plants as part of ongoing restoration and conservation programs. Cacao has become another important thread in that long story. Following Hurricane Maria in 2017, a new cacao orchard was established around the Las Casas homestead, complementing the earlier valley plantings and expanding the vision for regenerative agroforestry on the property.

Today, cacao is once again becoming an important focus at Las Casas. Seedlings propagated from the Icaco trees are growing, new plantings are being established, older trees are being maintained, and harvests are collected for both use and future propagation. The long-term goal is both practical and symbolic: to become producers of cacao while demonstrating another example of regenerative land use within a working rainforest landscape.

The story of Las Casas has always been one of planting for futures that may not arrive for decades. Forestry teaches patience. Cacao teaches patience. Friendships do too. Today, more than twenty years after helping build El Teatro, Dugan’s connection to the project continues in a new form.

What began as a physical structure in the rainforest is evolving into a broader collaborative vision. Together, Gregg and 3T are developing El Teatro: A Series of Events, an ongoing exploration that moves fluidly between ideas, remote conversations, writings, videos, artistic projects, scientific inquiry, and public engagement. The project embraces the idea that meaningful work often happens between disciplines, where storytelling meets ecology, art meets technology, and friendship becomes a catalyst for new possibilities.

Gregg Dugan/Writer in Residence:

“3T, project manager of eyeontherainforest.org, gave me a fancy title: ‘Writer-in-Residence’. ‘Do something on TikTok,’ she suggested—each posting just a minute or less. The other end of the spectrum from Two Birds Productions.

So, a TikTok series. I’d never even seen a TikTok. Twenty episodes or so, I’m thinking. Shot in the Patillas District of Puerto Rico. Celebrating the rainforest and the Las Casas de la Selva sustainable forestry project.

3T helps me set up a TikTok account. During my six-week stay, the number of postings grows to 80. It’s a TikTok thing, 3T tells me, all about workflow—just post it and move on.

To the drone thing, say, the tech is there, or close enough, to survey the watershed remotely. What a storyline. The watershed. A long-term proposition. And finally, the Coda and a last-gasp effort at clearing the decks—decks built by, for, and with Puerto Rican hardwoods.

Move on; that’s the TikTok way. And more—more of everything, including Two Birds. Is this really what the world needs?

Be a producer, not a consumer, 3T and Andrés say.

Two Birds uses the rainforest and Las Casas de la Selva as set and setting for a TikTok series of 80 postings – a celebration.

And it’s not the first time—2Birds and Las Casas and 3T go way back, with Icaco Valley footage already decades old, hardwood trees now 100 feet tall, cacao… living proof.

Special thanks to my collaborator, facilitator, and friend, 3T Vakil—project manager, artist, and the biggest inspiration of them all.”

There is a certain symmetry in this evolution.

Two decades ago Dugan helped build a gathering place within the rainforest. Today, through El Teatro, Eye on the Rainforest, and ongoing collaborations with Las Casas, he is keen to help 3t build new spaces for connection—digital, creative, scientific, and educational.

The tools have changed. Timber, nails, and hand tools have given way to cameras, editing software, social media platforms, drones, and remote sensing technologies. Yet the purpose remains remarkably similar: bringing people together around the living story of the forest.

That story is now entering a new chapter.

Conversations that begin as videos, essays, or online exchanges increasingly lead toward practical conservation initiatives. Among the most exciting is the growing effort to employ drone and LiDAR technology to better understand the Las Casas landscape. What once required weeks of fieldwork can now be complemented by detailed aerial mapping, watershed analysis, terrain modeling, biomass estimation, and forest monitoring.

For Dugan and 3T, this emerging work feels like a natural continuation of decades spent observing the land from the ground. The questions remain much the same: How is the forest changing? What stories does the landscape tell? How can we understand it more deeply? The methods evolve, but the curiosity endures.

At Las Casas, science, art, storytelling, forestry, and friendship have never existed in separate worlds. They are part of the same ecosystem.

And like the forest itself, they continue to grow.

Dugan – Writer in Residence, March 2026

Visit us in Puerto Rico, get involved! – volunteer! join in! www.eyeontherainforest.org

Two Birds Productions/Human Race: www.2birdshrs.com

School Groups

by thrity May 27, 2026

Houghton University Explores the Ethnobotanical Trail, May 2026

Houghton University returns to Eye on the Rainforest

We were delighted to welcome students and faculty from Houghton University back to Las Casas de la Selva for another visit, led by John M. Rowley, Ph.D., Professor of Chemistry and Director of Science Honors. Having visited us previously, it was a pleasure to continue building this relationship through another day of learning in the rainforest.

The group explored our Ethnobotanical Trail with Erid Román, a young botanist and member of the Eye on the Rainforest Botanical Team. Along the trail, Erid introduced the students to the remarkable diversity of Puerto Rico’s native and endemic flora, sharing how plants have been used traditionally while explaining their ecological roles within the forest.

The walk also provided an opportunity to learn about the history of Las Casas de la Selva—how former agricultural land has been transformed through more than four decades of rainforest restoration, sustainable forestry, scientific research, and environmental education. Along the way, students practiced identifying tree species and gained a deeper appreciation for the complexity of tropical forest ecosystems.

After the hike, everyone returned to the homestead to enjoy a nutritious home-cooked lunch prepared by 3T, providing time to reflect on the morning’s discoveries and continue conversations about conservation, ecology, and the importance of protecting Puerto Rico’s forests.

Visits like these demonstrate the value of experiential learning. By combining science, history, and hands-on exploration, students leave with a richer understanding of tropical forests and the people working to conserve them for future generations.

We thank Dr. Rowley and Houghton University for returning to Eye on the Rainforest, and we look forward to welcoming them back again.

Artist Residency

by thrity May 25, 2026

La Sangre Se Llama: Mercury’s Residency at Las Casas de la Selva, March/April 2026

La Sangre Se Llama: Mercury’s Residency at Las Casas de la Selva, March/April 2026

Mercury spent March and April 2026 in residence at Las Casas de la Selva, Patillas, Puerto Rico, living and working within the rainforest landscape of southeastern Puerto Rico. A second-generation Boricua artist and activist based in Hartford, Connecticut, Mercury works across disciplines with a focus on site-specific installation, using available materials and responding directly to place, memory, language, and the conditions of the present moment. Their practice is deeply connected to questions of Bori identity, diaspora, and belonging. Alongside their artistic work, Mercury is actively engaged in housing justice and community-based responses to gentrification, bringing together activism and creative practice in ways that feel immediate and lived rather than theoretical.

For the past four years, Mercury has spent winters at Las Casas de la Selva, gradually building a relationship with the land through conservation work, forestry activities, and art-making shaped by the surrounding environment. Their time here reflects an ongoing process of reconnection to Puerto Rico as part of the diaspora experience, a relationship that is neither fixed nor simple, but constantly unfolding.

Mercury wrote:

“My mom used to always say, “la sangre se llama” – I believe that. Boricuas navigate identity in a way that not many can understand. There isn’t a single quality we can hold up and say, “Here! This is what makes me Puerto Rican.” We straddle all the demographics. Hell, even the land itself is having an identity crisis between sovereignty and statehood. Like electrons that exist in multiple places at once, my people embody contradiction.

Yet the blood still calls. There’s a whisper in our DNA that stubbornly reminds us where home is. I like to imagine there’s a homing beacon buried deep under the Atlantic in what is called the “Puerto Rico Trench” and the coqui’s are like bluetooth speakers for that message. As a child of the Diaspora I am at the cutting edge of identity. What I am feels like a moving target… and I’m ok with that now. What they say on the island, “lo inventa” ?

“The fact that I
am writing to you
in English
already falsifies what I
wanted to tell you.
My subject:
how to explain to you that I
don’t belong to English
though I belong nowhere else”
― Gustavo Perez Firmat, Bilingual Blues: Poems, 1981-1994”

Those reflections resonate strongly within Las Casas itself, a place that has always existed between categories. Forest and laboratory. Homestead and research site. Art space and working forestry project. Puerto Rico itself often occupies this same in-between terrain, and Mercury’s work moves fluidly through those tensions rather than attempting to resolve them.

At a time when the world feels increasingly fractured, we are reminded why places like Las Casas de la Selva matter, and we are very glad to welcome Mercury into residence with us.

Residency here is not about retreat in the conventional sense. It is about immersion. Living inside a forest that is constantly in motion. Growth, decay, regeneration, pressure, release. The rainforest does not offer stillness so much as it offers continuity, and in that continuity there is space to think, to feel, and to respond. In moments of global unrest, the role of the artist becomes sharper. Not to explain the world, but to witness it, to translate it, and sometimes to sit with what cannot be resolved.

Having Mercury here brought another layer of observation into the work of Las Casas, where science, forestry, conservation, and lived experience are already in dialogue. Their presence mattered not as an addition, but as part of an ongoing process. The forest holds many forms of intelligence. Artistic practice is one of them.

Throughout the residency, Mercury created works that communicated through material, placement, gesture, and atmosphere. Using found objects, reclaimed materials, text, and interventions within the environment itself, the pieces carried the same qualities present in their writing: movement between worlds, layered identities, uncertainty, humor, tension, and an ongoing search for orientation. The works did not attempt to dominate the landscape. Instead, they entered into conversation with it.

Some pieces felt provisional, almost like signals or transmissions left briefly within the forest. Others carried the feeling of maps without fixed destinations, reflecting Mercury’s continuing exploration of diaspora identity and the unstable, shifting experience of belonging. Across the work there remained a sensitivity to communication itself: how people call to one another across distance, language, memory, geography, and history.

Mercury’s installations during the residency moved through the landscape like signals, mutations, or living interruptions within the rainforest itself. The works carried the same tension present in their writing: between diaspora and homeland, decay and emergence, ruin and adaptation. Found industrial materials, abandoned objects, vegetation, color, and gesture became part of an evolving language that felt both playful and deeply charged.

One of the most striking interventions transformed the burned shell of an abandoned vehicle into what appeared almost like an organism erupting outward into the roadside environment. Long tendrils and root-like forms exploded from the vehicle in electric reds, pinks, violets, and blues, blurring distinctions between machine, plant, nervous system, and coral reef. The piece felt simultaneously wounded and alive, as if the forest itself had begun reclaiming industrial debris through a strange new biology. Mercury’s work often communicates this sense of unstable identity, where categories collapse and hybrid forms emerge from contradiction.

Beside the winding mountain roads leading to Las Casas de la Selva, the sculpture altered the experience of the landscape itself. It interrupted expectation. Drivers and walkers encountered something that felt part science fiction, part rainforest growth, part psychic eruption. In many ways, the work echoed Mercury’s own reflections on Boricua identity existing across multiple realities at once, “like electrons that exist in multiple places at once.”

Another intervention used a discarded section of roadside guardrail, isolated against the dense vegetation. The object became strangely vulnerable once removed from its original function. Painted in warm gradients that shifted between industrial warning colors and tropical sunset tones, the piece quietly transformed infrastructure into something almost bodily. Mercury’s installations repeatedly ask how human systems sit inside the forest and how those systems change once nature begins absorbing them back into its own rhythms.

A further work placed a mattress-like form within a rushing stream, surrounded by dark purple organic structures that resembled petals, sea life, or protective membranes. The image carried a dreamlike ambiguity. Shelter floating inside instability. Domesticity displaced into rainforest water systems. Rest made impossible yet still attempted. Mercury’s work communicates through this kind of unresolved symbolism, allowing emotional and ecological readings to exist simultaneously.

Across all of the installations there is an ongoing sensitivity to communication itself. Tendrils become antennae. Roots resemble wiring. Streams feel like information systems. Objects seem to transmit signals rather than fixed meanings. The works never fully settle into certainty, and that openness is part of their power.

At Las Casas, Mercury was not only an artist in residence but also an active and valued member of the working community. Alongside developing installations and ideas, they became an ace volunteer, contributing directly to ongoing forestry work, conservation projects, maintenance, and daily crew activities. Mercury also worked closely with visiting teen groups, helping guide young people through the realities of living and working within the rainforest environment. Their presence moved easily between art-making, physical labor, conversation, mentorship, and shared communal work, reflecting the spirit of Las Casas itself, where creative practice and practical work are inseparable.

What emerged during the residency was not simply a body of artworks, but a deeper integration into the ongoing life of the forest project. Mercury’s installations did not stand apart from Las Casas. They grew out of it, responding to its roads, streams, debris, histories, labor, contradictions, and living systems. In that sense, the work became another way of listening to the forest and translating what it means to belong, partially, provisionally, and honestly, to a place.

At La Quna, Caguas, Arts Space and Coffee Bar

Mercury is now developing a broader vision for a reciprocal residency exchange connecting diasporic artists from cities across the United States with Caribbean-based creatives. It is an idea rooted not simply in travel, but in exchange, relationship, and mutual recognition. Their work continues to move between place, identity, and possibility, extending even toward imagined futures and outer space, while remaining grounded in the realities of land, culture, and community.

We look forward to seeing what emerges next from Mercury’s evolving practice and from the continuing dialogue between art, forest, and identity at Las Casas de la Selva.

You can follow Mercury’s work at:
@mercury___________________ yrucrem.com

Photos by 3t Vakil and Mercury, 2026

Globalworks Teams Rare trees Volunteer Groups Volunteers

by thrity April 27, 2026

Cathedral School, California, with Global Works, 16-18th April 2026

Cathedral School students Planting Pisonia horneae in the Sierra de Cayey 16-18 April 2026

In April we welcomed 14 year old students from Cathedral School, San Francisco, CA, brought to us by Global Works.

Founded in the mid-1950s, Cathedral School for Boys was built on the idea that strong academics should be matched by equally strong character. The school emphasizes intellectual rigor alongside values of community, integrity, and service, with a clear belief that what students do with their learning matters as much as the learning itself. On the first afternoon of arrival, despite the rain, we went out to clear an area that had broken bamboo that was leaning on one of the trails.

The next day, 17th April 2026, we planted 8 Pisonia horneae saplings in the Eye on the Rainforest landscape here in the Sierra de Cayey. These trees were grown from seeds collected by botanist Steve Maldonado from wild individuals in the karst area of Aguadilla, Punta Borinquen in 2021. Now they are back in the ground where they belong. 3t was ecstatic as she, Jon Warwick, and multi-media artist and writer-in-residence Gregg Dugan, led a team to plant these saplings into the forest.

The Caribbean is one of the most biologically rich regions in the world. Even now, new plant species are still being described. Puerto Rico, despite being one of the best-studied islands in the region, continues to reveal species that went unrecognized for decades. Pisonia horneae is one of those. For years, specimens of this tree were misidentified, lumped under other species, or left unresolved. Botanists working through old collections, field observations, and living material eventually realized they were looking at something distinct. It was formally described in 2017 and named after Frances Horne, an illustrator who spent 45 years documenting the plants of Puerto Rico, much of her work never fully acknowledged. https://www.sciencedirect.com/org/science/article/pii/S1314201117000716

The tree itself belongs to the genus Pisonia, often called “birdcatcher trees.” The name comes from their seeds, which are coated in sticky glands. In some species, these can cling to birds and use them for dispersal. This is not a tree you notice easily. It does not dominate. It appears in small numbers, often as single individuals or small clusters, usually in recovering forest. You find it on slopes, ravines, and rocky ground, places where forest has been disturbed and is rebuilding. It sits in that middle layer of the forest. Not canopy, not understory, just part of the structure.

Four year old sapling of *Pisonea horneae*

Right now, it is considered imperiled. There may be as few as 1 to 250 individuals remaining. Across Puerto Rico, it is scattered and fragmented. In the north, there are a few places where it is more common. Outside of that, especially in the east, it becomes extremely rare. In some historical locations, it is no longer found. There have been a few individuals recorded in the Sierra de Cayey. That is why planting here matters.

By the end of the morning, 8 young trees were in the ground. This is what restoration looks like. Not large numbers. Not quick results. Just the steady return of species that should already be here. Puerto Rico now has six known species of Pisonia. This is one of the rare ones. Watching these teens plant the saplings was a joy! Now we watch them grow…the teens as well as the trees!

Chef Monique Nieves provided delicious meals throughout, and Dugan was extra help in the kitchen.

Gregg Dugan, who helped build the RV Heraclitus and was Captain of the ship for several years had the students enthralled with stories of sea adventures on one evening. Dugan is writer-in-residence at Las Casas de la Selva for two months, March and April 2026.
See Dugan’s website: https://www.2birdshrs.com/

L-R: Gregg Dugan, Randall Vargas Guido, 3t Vakil, Luke Southall, Caitlyn Toropova, Chris Corrigan, Monique Nieves

Cathedral School, California, school staff: Chris Corrigan and Caitlyn Toropova.
Chris has been bringing teen school groups to Eye on The Rainforest for over a decade now.
Brought to us by Global Works – International Community Service with leaders Randall Vargus Guido and Luke Southall. Thank you all.

See more images: https://photos.app.goo.gl/ZN8pWenzRwG3x6XW6
Photos by 3t Vakil, Chris Corrigan, Gregg Dugan, and Caitlyn Toropova.

School Groups Service work Volunteer Groups

by thrity April 21, 2026

Charles H. Barrows STEM Academy: 13-14 April 2026

Charles H. Barrows STEM Academy: 13-14 April 2026

We had a large enthusiastic group with us from Charles H. Barrows STEM Academy, 21 students and 16 staff and parents for an afternoon of service and an overnight stay. They came ready to work, and that matters here. We split into three mixed teams of students and adults and moved straight onto the land.

Team Caoba, led by 3t. On the slopes, teams prepared land for tree planting. This is careful work. Clearing just enough. Opening space without destabilizing the hillside. Understanding how water moves, how roots will hold, and where the next generation of trees can take hold.

Team Ausubo, led by Jon. On a steeper section, steps were built into the slope. Physical, repetitive, and precise. Each step placed to hold, to last, and to make the trail usable over time.

Team Tabonuco, led by Mercury. On the ethnobotanical trail, another group focused on drainage. In the rainforest, water defines everything. If it is not guided, it erodes. If it is managed, it supports the system. Students worked to open channels, move debris, and keep the trail intact.

Everyone had to pay attention. The slopes don’t allow shortcuts, you have to read the ground, watch your footing, and work together. Their STEM focus showed up in the right way, not as something separate but embedded in the work. Water flow, soil stability, structure, all of it right there in front of them. At the same time, their 3 R’s were clear. Respect for the place and each other, responsibility for the job in hand, and reflection in the moments when they stopped and looked at what they had actually done.

At Las Casas, this kind of work has lasting impact. The trail holds its shape and allows walkers to traverse the forest safely; the water moves as it should, and the land is set for the next phase of planting.

They were here a short time, but they left work behind that will keep doing its job.

Thank you to Chef Monique Nieves for the food that kept everyone going through the day, and for taking a group out on a night walk. Thanks as well to Jon Warwick, and Mercury, artist in residence, for working alongside 3t on crew leadership, and to Gregg Dugan, writer in residence, for his work in the kitchen, and on the grounds, and thoughtful input throughout.

Appreciation to Nicole, Kim, and Nick for their steady leadership with the group, and to School Tours of America, together with Bernardo Benetti, for continuing to bring groups that show up ready to engage and do the work.

Photos by 3t Vakil, Nicole Bay, & Jon Warwick

April 2026

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