
In the marsh, Jaime Choc uses a weed torch to remove invasive stilt grass.
Photo by Dee Salomon
Joan Ingalls moved to her new home in Lakeville from nearby Salisbury and she has been restoring the five-plus acre property for the past two years.
It is an enormous job as a majority of the trees have been mortally overwhelmed by bittersweet and there are herbaceous invasives on nearly every surface — rock, meadow and what’s left of a small wooded area.
By the time Joan signed up for the spring woodland workshop she had already had a portion of her land brush-hogged. When I visited her property, as I did for all workshop participants, she had made a big effort clearing rocky areas of barberry, privet and bittersweet.
“It was the first thing I did because I wanted to get to the oak tree.’”
The large red oak is a splendid anchor to Joan’s yard as are the substantial granite outcroppings Joan exposed in the process.
Since that visit, Joan has been using her ‘buckthorn Blaster’ applicator (Naisma.org) to target the woody invasives specifically but the herbaceous weeds have come back with a vengeance, a consequence of the otherwise helpful July rains.
I visited again the other day and it was apparent that a different solution was needed on top of the rock outcroppings; it was again a tangle of invasive narrowleaf bittercress, garlic mustard rosettes and native but messy bedstraw, Gallium aparine.
We decided that it is an ideal place to try the weed torch, as the plants are low to the ground in a thin layer of soil on top of rock. A few darling pink flowered Herb Robert will be sacrificed in the process, but we can look at replanting those from other spots on the property amidst the bountiful supply of dogbane and native grasses.
Joan’s careful consideration of her land restoration and her dedication to making it happen are admirable, even more so as she is 79. Hats off to her and the other participants I enjoyed working with in the spring.
Our weed torch is currently in use by Jaime Choc who, for several years, has been helping me battle invasives and tame the garden. The current culprit is stilt grass which has taken over the marsh. The recent wet weather allowed Jaime to make headway with the torch, working as deftly as possible around the native plants that reside there: grass, ferns, thalictrum, goldenrod and yellow loosestrife.
But there is collateral damage from the torch; lovely ferns are brown at their tips and some grasses and asters have been sacrificed. I chose a low BTU torch to avoid this outcome but still the flame is too wide. (If anyone knows of a long-handled weed torch with a precision flame adjustment please let me know at dee@theungardener.com.)
I have been following Jaime as he works, pulling out by hand the remaining stilt grass under the precious natives. Using a weed torch requires experience, adherence to safety precautions and prudence to judge when the conditions for using it are right, and when they are not.
The three-acre marsh is fed by a stream that flows down from the northern part Swaller Hill. The stream usually dries up in July abetted by a beaver dam; this year it is still running.
When we moved here a dozen years ago, the marsh was entirely covered in barberry.
Trees, mostly tulip poplars but also a beautiful shadblow and willows were dying by bittersweet strangulation.
We bit the bullet one winter and spent several thousand dollars to have the bittersweet cut out; since then, each spring has brought a larger swath of skunk cabbage with its exotic looking purple flower and leaves that are an early feast for bears.
How long had the cabbage been lying low while the barberry flourished? According to Nancy Lawson, the author of The Humane Gardener, skunk cabbage’s deep rhizomes allow it to live for decades and perhaps centuries. It has existed on earth millions of years before humans.
After a decade or so of barberry interference on our property, the skunk cabbages blossom again. As with so many of our native species, they are waiting underground for you to create the conditions for their return.
If this sounds intriguing, please consider joining the fall woodland workshop which will equip you to tackle the ‘woody’ invasives — barberry, bittersweet, burning bush, Russian olive, Asian honeysuckle, privet, porcelain berry — and others — this fall into winter. To sign up, send an email to dee@theungardener.com.
Dee Salomon “ungardens” in Litchfield County.
SHARON — Angela Derrick Carabine, 74, died May 16, 2025, at Vassar Hospital in Poughkeepsie, New York. She was the wife of Michael Carabine and mother of Caitlin Carabine McLean.
A funeral Mass will be celebrated on June 6 at 11:00 a.m. at Saint Katri (St Bernards Church) Church. Burial will follow at St. Bernards Cemetery. A complete obituary can be found on the website of the Kenny Funeral home kennyfuneralhomes.com.
Sam Waterston
On June 7 at 3 p.m., the Triplex Cinema in Great Barrington will host a benefit screening of “The Killing Fields,” Roland Joffé’s 1984 drama about the Khmer Rouge and the two journalists, Cambodian Dith Pran and New York Times correspondent Sydney Schanberg, whose story carried the weight of a nation’s tragedy.
The film, which earned three Academy Awards and seven nominations — including one for Best Actor for Sam Waterston — will be followed by a rare conversation between Waterston and his longtime collaborator and acclaimed television and theater director Matthew Penn.
“This came out of the blue,” Waterston said of the Triplex invitation, “but I love the town, I love this area. We raised our kids here in the Northwest Corner and it’s been good for them and good for us.”
Waterston hasn’t seen the film in decades but its impact has always remained present.
“It was a major event in my life at the time,” Waterston said of filming “The Killing Fields,” “and it had a big influence on me and my life ever after.” He remembers the shoot vividly. “My adrenaline was running high and the part of Sydney Schanberg was so complicated, so interesting.”
Waterston lobbied for the role of the Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist for years, tracing his early interest to a serendipitous connection while filming in England. Even before Joffé’s production was greenlit, he had his sights set on playing the role. “I knew I wanted the part for years even before it was a movie that was being produced.”
What followed was not just critical acclaim, but also a political awakening. “The film gave all of us an intimate acquaintance with refugees, what it is to be a refugee, how the world forgets them and what a terrible crime that is.”
In Boston, at a press stop for the film, two women asked Waterston a pointed question: now that he knew what he knew, what was he going to do about it? “I said, ‘Well, you know, I’m an actor, so I thought I’d go on acting.’ And they said, ‘No, that’s not what you need to do. You need to join Refugees International.’” And join he did, serving on the organization’s board for 25 years.
Both Schanberg and Dith Pran, whose life the film also chronicles, were “cooperative and helpful … in a million ways,” Waterston said. Upon first meeting Pran, Waterston recalled, “He came up to me, made a fist, and pounded on my chest really hard and said, ‘You must understand that Sydney is very strong here.’ He was trying to plant something in me.”
There were more tender gestures, too. Schanberg used the New York Times wire to relay that Waterston’s wife had just given birth while he was filming in Thailand, adding to the personal and emotional connection to the production.
Though “The Killing Fields” is a historical document, its truths still resonate deeply today. “Corruption is a real thing,” Waterston warned. “Journalism is an absolutely essential part of our democracy that is as under siege today as it was then. It’s different now but it’s the same thing of ‘Don’t tell the stories we don’t want heard.’ Without journalists, we are dust in the wind.” Waterston added, “Democracy is built on the consent of the governed but the other thing it’s built on is participation of the governed and without full participation, democracy really doesn’t stand much of a chance. It’s kind of a dead man walking.”
When asked what he hopes the audience will take away from the screening, Waterston didn’t hesitate. “This is the story that puts the victims of war at the center of the story and breaks your heart. I think that does people a world of good to have their hearts broken about something that’s true. So, I hope that’s what the impact will be now.”
Tickets for the benefit screening are available at www.thetriplex.org. Proceeds support Triplex Cinema, a nonprofit home for film and community programming in the Berkshires.
Scott Reinhard, graphic designer, cartographer, former Graphics Editor at the New York Times, took time out from setting up his show “Here, Here, Here, Here- Maps as Art” to explain his process of working.Here he explains one of the “Heres”, the Hunt Library’s location on earth (the orange dot below his hand).
Map lovers know that as well as providing the vital functions of location and guidance, maps can also be works of art.With an exhibition titled “Here, Here, Here, Here — Maps as Art,” Scott Reinhard, graphic designer and cartographer, shows this to be true. The exhibition opens on June 7 at the David M. Hunt Library at 63 Main St., Falls Village, and will be the first solo exhibition for Reinhard.
Reinhard explained how he came to be a mapmaker. “Mapping as a part of my career was somewhat unexpected.I took an introduction to geographic information systems (GIS), the technological side of mapmaking, when I was in graduate school for graphic design at North Carolina State.GIS opened up a whole new world, new tools, and data as a medium to play with.”
He added, “When I moved to New York City, I continued that exploration of cartography, and my work eventually caught the attention of the New York Times, where I went to work as a Graphics Editor, making maps and data visualizations for a number of years.”At the New York Times, his work contributed to a number of Pulitzer Prize winning efforts.
In his work, Reinhard takes complex data and turns it into intriguing visualizations the viewer can begin to comprehend immediately and will want to continue to look into and explore more deeply.
One method Reinhard uses combines historic United States Geological survey maps with “current elevation data (height above sea level for a point on earth) to create 3-D looking maps, combining old and new,” he explained.
For the show at Hunt Library Reinhard said, “I knew that I wanted to incorporate the place into the show itself. A place can be many things.The exhibition portrays the exact spot visitors are from four vantage points: the solar system, the earth, the Northwest Corner, and the library itself.” Hence the name, “Here, Here, Here, Here.”
He continued, “The largest installation, the Northwest Corner, is a mosaic of high-resolution color prints and hand-printed cyanotypes — one of the earliest forms of photography. They use elevation data to portray the landscape in a variety of ways, from highly abstract to the highly detailed.”
This sixteen-foot-wide installation covers the area of Millerton to Barkhamsted Reservoir and from North Canaan down to Cornwall for a total of about 445 square miles.
For subjects, he chooses places he’s visited and feels deeply connected to, like the Northwest Corner.“This show is a thank you to the community for the richness that it has brought to my life. I love it here,” he said.
The opening reception for the show is on June 7 from 5 to 7 p.m. On Thursday, June 12, Reinhard will give a talk about his work from 5:30 to 7 p.m. at the library.“Here, Here, Here, Here” will be on display until July 3.
Scott Reinhard’s 16-foot-wide piece of the Northwest Corner is laid out on the floor prior to being hung for the show. L. Tomaino