Greetings, friends, neighbors, and fellow seekers of a deeper connection to the land we call home. I’m Sam Harrelson, and I’m thrilled to welcome you to the inaugural post of Carolina Ecology, a space dedicated to exploring the intricate tapestry of our two states’ ecosystems, cultures, and faith traditions. Whether you bike the Blue Ridge Parkway in North Carolina or paddle the Congaree River in South Carolina, this site is meant to amplify the voices, stories, and stewardship efforts that shape our shared landscapes.
Why Carolina Ecology?
The Carolinas are blessed with ecological diversity, from the Coastal Plain's sandhills and longleaf pine forests to the rhododendron-clad ridges of the Southern Appalachians. Yet these same places face unprecedented pressures: land fragmentation, shifting climate patterns, and historical decisions that have often overlooked Indigenous practices. At the same time, our region’s spiritual and religious communities have much to offer as partners in healing and advocacy, whether through Episcopal congregations in Charleston that support marsh restoration, United Church of Christ members in Columbia organizing tree-planting events, or First Nations descendants in the Cherokee and Pee Dee preserving ancient fire-management traditions.
Over the past fifteen years, I taught Environmental Science, Physics, Earth & Space, and Life Science in the Carolinas, witnessing firsthand how middle and high school students’ eyes would light up the moment they realized that their own backyard (or local creek) can be both a classroom and a call to action. Now, as a PhD student studying Ecology, Spirituality, and Religion, I’ve come to see even more clearly that religious and ecological insights are woven together. Together, they ground us in a sense of purpose and an invitation to care for creation that is practical (water-quality monitoring, native‐plant gardens) and profound (rituals of gratitude, reflections on our moral responsibilities).
What to Expect
1. Timely News & Policy Updates
You’ll find regular coverage of local and regional conservation efforts throughout the Carolinas, whether the latest developments in the Piedmont’s reforestation projects, South Carolina’s legislative debates on wetland protections, or North Carolina’s strides (and setbacks) in expanding clean energy. I’ll highlight grassroots organizations, link to relevant city/county council actions, and share resources for anyone who wants to get involved.
2. Event Spotlights & Community Calendars
Keep an eye here for announcements about hikes, citizen-science gatherings, faith-based ecology workshops, and Indigenous ceremonies that welcome participation. If your congregation is hosting an Earth Day liturgy, or if there’s a free workshop on native bee conservation in Asheville, you’ll see it first on Carolina Ecology.
3. Essays & Reflections
Once a month (at a minimum), I’ll (and others) publish a longer essay, ranging from a meditation on the theological significance of longleaf pine restoration to a reflective journal entry about tracking a black walnut tree through the seasons. These pieces will draw from academic inquiry (phenomenology, process theology) and lived experience: teaching in Spartanburg, conducting fieldwork in the Catawba River basin, or listening to tribal elders speak about ancestral fire stewardship. Expect honest, narrative-driven writing with occasional questions to provoke your own reflections.
4. Indigenous Perspectives & Spiritual Traditions
It’s our responsibility to honor and learn from the Catawba, Cherokee, Waccamaw, Pee Dee, and Lumbee peoples, among others, whose relationships with these lands predate state lines. You’ll find interviews with tribal representatives, traditional ecological knowledge (TEK) explorations, and resources to support tribal sovereignty and land-return initiatives. Along with that, a good deal of my research is focused on our Gullah communities along the coast, so I hope that we’ll frequently include those voices.
A Personal Note
As someone who grew up wandering the banks of the Little Pee Dee River in Marion County, went to Wofford to study Religion, and later pursued a Master’s in Religion and Art at Yale, I’ve always sensed that forests, rivers, and wetlands are more than “resources.” They’re teachers, inspiring wonder, inviting us into community, and reminding us that humans are part of something much larger. My doctoral research focuses on “ecological intentionality,” a concept that blends phenomenology with ecological ethics. In plain terms, it asks: How does our awareness, shaped by faith, ritual, and values, guide us toward decisions that honor both Spirit and Earth?
Every post here will be infused with that question: How might our beliefs, our liturgies, and our political engagements shape a more compassionate and regenerative Carolina? And conversely, how does the pulse of Carolina ecosystems inform, challenge, and renew our faith?
Join the Conversation
Carolina Ecology is first and foremost a community. If you’re a farmer in Hickory experimenting with agroforestry, a seminary student in Wilmington curious about eco-theology, or a high schooler in Columbia monitoring stormwater runoff, your perspective matters. Beneath each post, you’ll find a space for comments. Please share your thoughts, correct my facts, or propose story ideas. I’m also eager to collaborate on guest pieces. You might be a pastor developing a climate-justice curriculum or a park ranger observing changes in salamander populations; if you have a story to tell, let’s make it happen.
Finally, if you’re new here, consider subscribing (free) to receive every post directly in your inbox. If you value this work, please share it with friends, congregations, or colleagues caring about Carolina’s ecological, spiritual, and civic future.
Thank you for being here. Carolina Ecology emerges from a place of hope: when science, spirituality, and community engagement dialogue and act, we can cultivate landscapes that sustain all life, both the human and more-than-human. As we embark on this journey, may we listen to the rivers, the piney hills, the ancestors, and each other. There’s much to learn, many urgent challenges to face, and countless reasons for gratitude.
Here’s to the first of many conversations—about soil, policy, prayer, and stewardship. I look forward to walking these Carolina fields and forests with you (virtually, and, someday, perhaps in person).
Warmly,
Sam Harrelson
Editor, Carolina Ecology