Latest news with #abundance

Wall Street Journal
5 days ago
- General
- Wall Street Journal
Can the ‘Abundance Agenda' Save the Democrats?
SAN FRANCISCO—A raging political fad has taken over the Democratic Party, coalescing politicians, activists and rank-and-file partisans around an unlikely message: The government is broken. The party's postelection angst has found an unexpected life raft in the idea of 'abundance,' catalyzed by the recent publication of a book by that name that argues that regulatory obstacles and an obsession with procedure have caused liberal governance to fail to deliver on its promises.


New York Times
21-05-2025
- General
- New York Times
The Next ‘Big Idea' in Ecological Landscapes: Abundance
As we evolve our gardens to be more ecologically focused, let's set an intention of abundance — as in brimming with color and texture, yes, but also brimming with life. Compared to more traditional, formal landscapes, such native-plant-forward designs are often labeled looser, naturalistic or wildish, all perfectly accurate descriptors. But the word 'abundance' really gets at both the visual and functional aspects these plantings embody, and having it in mind as a goal can clarify plant choices and placements, said Kelly D. Norris, a Des Moines-based ecological landscape designer. 'It's a big idea and it's a very generous idea to bring to a place,' said Mr. Norris, founder of The Public Horticulture Company and author of 'Your Natural Garden: A Practical Guide for Caring for an Ecologically Vibrant Home Garden.' A key element of the thinking that manifests abundance, he said, is that, 'At least once in each season there's got to be something that just is kind of charismatically everywhere.' It's not just the wow factor he seeks, though. Each season's headliner plants must be chosen for factors in addition to good looks, such as their roles as floral resources or host plants. Looking abundant isn't enough; a design must provide an abundance of diversity-supporting services, too. As attention-commanding as they are, the headliners don't act alone. Even the stunning natural phenomenon of a desert superbloom isn't a monoculture, Mr. Norris points out, though it may read as such in its big moment. 'Nobody's first reaction would be, 'Oh, there's just too much diversity here. I can't make sense of it,'' he said. 'They would say, 'Wow, look at that field of California poppies.'' Look closer, though, he added, 'When you're actually out walking in it, you're suddenly aware that there is an immense amount of diversity kind of lurking beneath the overt face of the poppies.' Interested in adopting the abundance mantra? I asked Mr. Norris for some guidance for getting started. Our conversation was edited for length and clarity. Where should I begin in developing my plant palette? We think about the landscape in three layers, as a kind of prototype for just about any ecological system: matrix, structure and vignettes. It's not foolproof, but it's certainly a great schematic beginning for many different kinds of archetypes. We often address structure first, which is just understanding what the canopy looks like if there is a canopy, and if there's not a canopy, is there a shrub layer, or coarse-textured, tall perennials? What's the scaffold to hold the rest of it together? We want to think about the matrix layer, too, which is often very foundational and very functional — the green mulch. Before we even start thinking about any kind of floral aesthetic, the first topics of consideration are really structure and matrix. When we get to the question of things starting to look really lovely and being resourceful, then we're into that vignette section. And the very first thing we want to start thinking about is what anchors each of our seasons, what we call the vignette anchors. Which plants make the best vignette anchors? Everything can't be everywhere all at once in a system that you design. But certainly nature shows us that there's kind of a Pareto Principle out there, an 80/20 rule. There's a small number of players doing a vast amount of the work. A few years ago I was asked to give a lecture, and I came up with the title 'Embracing Generalists,' because I think there's a case to be made for species that are kind of everywhere — for instance, black-eyed Susan, or Rudbeckia hirta, which is a useful annual or biennial that colors up young plantings and keeps them vibrant while slower things establish. Maybe 10, 15 percent — who knows what the exact number is — of the whole North American flora would fit that generalist profile. But a great place to start is to give credit to what's everywhere already as a way to start building a foundation for a planting. We do so much work in the Midwest, if we ignored Penstemon digitalis in our spring palette we would just be missing spring. It is a charismatic defining species of spring, and its floral phenology here in the Upper Midwest is timed almost perfectly with the arrival of ruby-throated hummingbirds. I suppose the list could go on: There's Liatris, the blazing stars, in the summer, asters in the fall — like our Symphyotrichum oblongifolium, aromatic asters that feature in our work. So it's not always as if the question is, 'Where's our aster for fall? Where's our Rudbeckia for summer?' because it's not a generic formula. But there are things that we go back to frequently because of their value in being abundant players. The regional lists of pollinator-friendly plants on the Xerces Society website may help get people started identifying such key players. Charismatic species often capture our attention as much as they whet pollinator appetites. Lavish use of these generalists doesn't just add colorful eye appeal for us and avoid the pitfall of too many different 'onesies' in a design. Big numbers also serve to shout, 'Hey, I'm over here. Come get me,' directing pollinators to abundant resources. How does color figure into your design process? I almost never think about color until 11:59. I want the landscape to work first. The color aspect is choosing which sprinkles go on the sugar cookies at Christmas time; that's a final detail to me. But what ends up happening, of course, is that when you start thinking about the associations of plants in place, there are these kind of inherent phenomena of color combinations that can be associated with particular places. You couldn't create a garden in a prairie context without gold and yellow in August and September; it wouldn't be possible. A lot of native gardens we see on social media are still fairly traditional in the way they use species more singularly than abundantly. Sometimes there's something I've heard called native-plant tokenism. It's like, 'Oh, look, I have my native plants in this corner.' I just always want to push people to understand plants more. You may already have a lot of species diversity, but the next task is just adding more plants. It's about picking a couple of abundant players and turning up the volume, which not only turns up the abundance of that species, it amplifies the resources that are available within the network of pollinators that are using that and five and 10 other things at the same time. This is an example of emergence in complex systems theory. More is more, but it's not simply linear. It's compounding. You start to increase the patch of Rudbeckia in your front yard from three to 15 plants, but the effects of that are not just fivefold. It's much more complex, and so there's an amplification of both the aesthetic and the floral resource. I would love for there to be more abundant elements in more gardens, whether that just means one or a few species, because it would produce some pretty dramatic results for the average gardener to readily observe.
Yahoo
09-05-2025
- Lifestyle
- Yahoo
For a better smoothie, turn on the oven
I'm in a season of life where I no longer make health resolutions focused on subtraction. No more cutting carbs, no more vilifying sugar. Instead, I'm leaning toward abundance: more vegetables, more water, more sleep, more walking just to feel the air on my face. More of the things that make my body feel like it's on my side. But abundance, I've learned, requires planning. These days, my refrigerator resembles a kind of produce altar: deli tubs filled with chopped vegetables for dipping, and trays of roasted eggplant, red pepper and onion — silky with olive oil, oregano and salt — ready to be layered onto sandwiches or folded into scrambled eggs. Fruit, though, remained a blind spot. I'm not someone who eats an apple on the way out the door. Bananas are often left to languish in tote bags; berries go soft in their cartons. So I began roasting it. On Sunday afternoons, I scatter halved strawberries or blueberries across a parchment-lined baking sheet, drizzle them with honey or maple syrup, and roast them until their edges bubble and the whole kitchen smells like jam. Stored in small containers, they're ideal spooned over yogurt or swirled into oatmeal. And then, one morning, I added a scoop to a smoothie — and something shifted. It began with peaches. Early ones: still slightly firm, with just enough fragrance to hint at what they might become. I halved them, added a splash of vanilla, a drizzle of honey, a pinch of sea salt, and roasted them until their edges browned and the juices pooled in syrupy puddles. The next day, I blended a few roasted halves with frozen banana, coconut milk and more cinnamon than seemed strictly necessary. The result didn't taste like breakfast. It tasted like something you might find in a glass bottle at a café where the music is low, the lighting flattering, and the smoothie menu handwritten in cursive. But there I was—barefoot in the kitchen, drinking it from a plastic blender cup, my dog looking on with mild suspicion. I drank that peach-and-coconut milk smoothie nearly every day for two weeks, surprised each morning to find myself willing — eager, even — to dirty the blender again. That kind of enthusiasm is rare in weekday routines, and it made me curious. If roasted peaches could do this, what else might transform with a little heat? From there, I started experimenting: berries, stone fruit, apple slices blanketed in cinnamon and clove. I discovered, over time, that most fruits benefit from the same treatment I give my vegetables — roasted until their flavors concentrate and their textures soften into something spoonable, or blendable or snackable straight from the tray. Eventually, a loose formula emerged. On weekends, I set aside a little time for a fruit roast: a simple, satisfying act of care that requires little more than a sheet pan and a hot oven. I toss fruit with a neutral oil; coconut and avocado are my go-tos, though I've found that olive oil does lovely, surprising things to blackberries. I add a sprinkle of flaky sea salt, a drizzle of sweetener (maple syrup, honey, agave, even brown sugar), and whatever warm spices I have on hand. Cinnamon, cardamom, clove, ginger — all are welcome here. There's no need to measure, really. This is more about instinct and scent, about creating a tray of fruit that looks like it could be the filling for a pie or the topping for a tart, but will instead be tucked away in deli containers and folded into the fabric of the week. For something that tastes like vacation in a glass, roast sliced peaches in melted coconut oil, a drizzle of honey, a generous dusting of cinnamon and a whisper of flaky sea salt. Store them in a container in the fridge. When you're ready to blend, combine a few roasted slices with canned coconut cream, a spoonful of whole-milk yogurt (or coconut yogurt, if you want to double down), frozen banana, and more cinnamon. It's creamy, fragrant, and just decadent enough to feel like you're getting away with something. Toss blueberries with a little avocado oil and maple syrup, then roast until they collapse into dark, jammy puddles. Once cool, store in the fridge until smoothie time. Blend with frozen banana, a handful of frozen blueberries, a chunk of fresh or frozen ginger (those little ginger cubes from Trader Joe's work beautifully), almond milk, and a tablespoon or two of tahini. The result is earthy, zingy, and unexpectedly luxurious. Slice apples and roast them with avocado oil, brown sugar, and enough baking spices to make your kitchen smell like fall—cinnamon, cardamom, clove and ginger are all fair game. When you're ready for breakfast, blend the roasted apples with a scoop of rolled oats, a spoonful of yogurt, a pour of almond milk, and more cinnamon. It's like apple pie in smoothie form, but with enough fiber to feel vaguely virtuous. I'm not saying roasted fruit will change your life. But it might get you to eat breakfast three days in a row. It might make your fridge smell like jam. And it might turn your Tuesday smoothie into something that feels just a little more worth waking up for.

Yahoo
08-05-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
House Democrat starts ‘abundance movement'-inspired caucus
House Democrats are getting Ezra Klein-pilled. A bipartisan group of lawmakers led by Rep. Josh Harder (D-Calif.) is launching a new roughly 30-member bloc that's claiming inspiration from the 'abundance movement' championed by the liberal commentator Klein. 'This is a moment that has been building for a while,' said Harder. 'I think there's been a lot of simmering interest in permitting reform and making sure that things are built faster, better, cheaper. But now, I think over the past year or so, it's really reached a boiling point on both sides.' It's the latest sign that some Democrats see the abundance movement's ideas — something that sprung up around Klein's book "Abundance" co-authored with Atlantic writer Derek Thompson — as a solution to the party's woes. The subject is not without its critics. Some progressives have pushed back on the proposals, which they argue fail to focus on what they see as larger problems like the concentration of power. But in spite of those detractors, Harder said his new caucus has a broad swath of support. 'I think this may be one of the only active bipartisan caucuses doing work that has folks across the ideological rainbow,' Harder said. The bloc's emergence comes amid a broader conversation among Democrats about their post-2024 message and potential failure of governance in blue cities and states. Harder said he'd read the book and had been in touch with Klein, who also spoke at the Senate Democrats' private gathering this week. In a short interview, Klein said it was 'good' that the caucus was forming but that he didn't know much about it. Harder said the 'Build America Caucus' is set to focus on cutting red tape around energy permitting and housing, and aimed to make recommendations on embedding provisions in must-pass legislation this Congress like the annual defense authorization bill or federal surface transportation legislation. But with congressional Republicans currently pursuing a party-line policy megabill, it's not clear how much of an appetite for bipartisan dealmaking exists in Washington at the moment. Harder, who represents a district around Stockton, California, cited his frustrations with the cost overruns and delays associated with marquee Democratic projects, including his state's high-speed rail project and the rollout of funding from the bipartisan infrastructure and climate law signed by former President Joe Biden. 'I think voters want to see action, and I think we need a government that actually works and actually delivers the services that people are voting for,' Harder said.