Many of us living in Maine are familiar with the heaviness of spirit that is colloquially known as “the winter blues.” For some, these seasonal shifts in mood begin to creep in as early as September or October – when day length first begins to ebb in our Northern Hemisphere – and don’t fully lift until the light has returned in earnest in April or May.

Why are we talking about Indigenous Food Sovereignty so much this month at the Blue Hill Co-op?  Firstly, because the story of the first Thanksgiving perpetuates an inaccurate and harmful

Autumn is such a poignant time of year, as the vibrant life energy of summer begins to fade into the darker and more contemplative cool-weather seasons. For many, autumn evokes a feeling of grief and foreboding and is barely more than a signifier of the long and imminent winter beginning to close in. Fall happens to be my favorite season for a number of reasons. I do begin to grieve the warmth and vibrancy of summer as it slips away, but am also made all the more conscious of its value and the ephemeral beauty of the natural world around us by its dramatic retreat.

Summer in Maine has arrived in all her glory. On the heels of a mild winter (thanks in part to the El Niño weather phenomena) climate experts predict that the country has begun to transition into a different weather phenomena: La Niña. Typically, when these two weather phenomena begin a transition from one to another, it can put an entire region into a holding pattern of atmospheric conditions. Unfortunately for Mainers, this holding pattern means an unusually humid, hot summer, with temperatures predicted to stay between 60-80% higher than average and precipitation expected to be between 40-50% higher. In the words of the Farmers’ Almanac, we’re in for a “sultry and soggy” one. In an effort to stay safe and comfortable while also prioritizing energy efficiency, we’ve put together some useful tips for making the most of the (practically tropical) cards we’ve been dealt this year.