A herd of goats makes its way through a stubbly, dry grassland to a hilly grove. As they get closer, the air becomes noticeably cooler, the vegetation denser, the grass greener. A couple of buffalo wallow in a shallow pool of water, and beyond, a forest path leads to a giant old ficus. From the tree’s roots, a little stream emerges, its peaceful gurgling punctuated with the plopping sound of ripe figs falling into the water.  “Baba himself looks after this forest and this stream,” says Bhawani Shankar, the custodian of this forest and the shrine of chud sidh which lies at its center. “Its water is so life-giving that my hair has grown to my ankles ever since I came here … years ago.” Twirling his matted locks into a bun larger than his head, he scatters seed for peacocks on a feeding platform. “Nothing good has come to anyone who dares to cut wood from this forest. The last man who cut an ancient tree here to build his house lost everything in a fire that somehow only left the beam he’d made from the tree unscathed.” Aman Singh gestures at a stream emerging from the roots of a ficus tree in Adaval ki Devbani. Credit: Geetanjali Krishna This forest is Adaval ki Devbani in Alwar, in the western Indian state of Rajasthan. Devbani literally means “sacred grove,” and the state has an estimated 25,000 of them. Sometimes they are also known as orans, or places where land, water, jungle and people coexist peacefully. Over centuries such groves have existed, not just in India but across the globe, as commons land, used by neighboring villages as pastures and places to collect fallen wood, medicinal herbs, honey and forest fruit. Deeply held spiritual beliefs ensure that trees and animals are protected within their boundaries, making them treasure troves for naturalists and the last refuge for a variety of indigenous species. In the desert state of Rajasthan, devbanis and orans also have within them bodies of water that humans and animals use.  But with changing lifestyles and land use patterns, these little pockets of biodiversity have been in a state of continuous decline. During the British colonial period, the revenue department  declared many of them ghair mumkin zameen, or uncultivable land that was not taxed. This made them fair game for encroachments, mining, land grabs and worse. Since Indian Independence in 1947, they have continued to face pressure from farming, construction, mining and more.  In 1992, Aman Singh, a Rajasthan native and no stranger to water scarcity, founded an NGO with a mouthful of a name, Krishi Avam Paristhitiki Vikas Sansthan (KRAPAVIS), which literally means “organization for the development of ecology and agriculture/livestock.”  Bhawani Shankar, the custodian of Adaval ki Devbani in Alwar, a forest in Rajasthan. Credit: Geetanjali Krishna “I had a theory that if we could rejuvenate water sources in village commons, perhaps this could improve the water table underground and revive the nearby wells and water bodies downstream that had long dried up,” he recounts. KRAPIVIS restored 15 orans and devbanis in Alwar, on the fringes of Rajasthan’s Sariska Tiger Reserve. As the orans and water bodies within them revived, he says his hypothesis was proved. “Wells revived, water levels in the nearby Siliserh Lake in Sariska Tiger Reserve rose and although the exact hydrology of this area hasn’t been studied in depth, this showed us that they were all connected underground,” he says.  The realization that reviving sacred and community forests across Rajasthan could help desert communities develop resilience to harsh weather and climate change gave KRAPIVIS an impetus to revive as many such forests as it could.  Siliserh Lake, which was declared a Ramsar site in 2025, glints in the strong desert sun as we drive past it to Adaval ki Devbani. KRAPAVIS has restored over 249 and mapped 1,400 orans and devbanis in Rajasthan like this one. As Singh explains, after identifying a sacred grove that needs to be revived, KRAPAVIS assesses how receptive the neighboring villages are to collective action.  “Village residents are an equal part of our restoration plan, and share the cost either in cash or labor,” he says. “So their buy-in is essential to the project’s success.”  Weighed down by negative news? Our smart, bright, weekly newsletter is the uplift you’ve been looking for. [contact-form-7] In the devbani, the air suddenly feels cooler, and a hush descends as Singh and I walk deeper towards the mouth of the stream. KRAPAVIS and local volunteers have planted indigenous trees including date palms, cleaned the mouth of the stream and desilted the pond. They have also repaired the ancient temple dedicated to a local deity located within the grove, and co-opted Shankar, its priest, to look after the forest. He patrols the forest and fines those who break the community rules for using forest produce. For his service, villagers contribute grain for his monthly ration. The restoration cost about U.S. $10,000, roughly the average that KRAPAVIS spends on each grove with funding from institutional donors and the community.  We drive about 25 miles to the boundary of the Sariska National Park, where a sacred grove on a hillock, Bherunathji ki oran, faces the park boundary, patrolled by three forest guards. The oran is verdant and dense, in sharp contrast to the park, where deforestation and illegal tree felling is evident.  Siliserh Lake is located in the buffer area of Sariska Tiger Reserve. Credit: Geetanjali Krishna Community-led conservation, Singh says, is much more effective than state-led conservation, which he says makes locals feel disconnected from the forest. “People have a sense of ownership for their oran; their economic, cultural and religious life is linked to it,” Singh explains. Women collect forest fruits, honey and firewood. Pastoralists follow strict community-set rules when they take their livestock for grazing. For example, devbanis with grasslands prohibit grazing between March and July when new grass grows. However, sacred groves in India face a more fundamental challenge today: loss of relevance.   “When I was a child, most people in my village were farmers and livestock owners,” says 37-year-old Sunil Harsana, who lives in Haryana’s Manger village barely 20 miles from New Delhi. Today, the majority of young people there are looking for more urban occupations and a handful have become real estate agents. So far, a 650-acre sacred grove, Manger Bani (“grove” in Haryanvi) has somehow survived the capital’s uncontrolled expansion.  This dry well in a devbani in Alwar revived when a nearby body of water was revived. Credit: Geetanjali Krishna “The bani is losing relevance for villagers,” he says. Harsana, with other ecologists, has been fighting against efforts to change the status of Manger bani from forest to farmland since the early 2000s.  Peacocks call plaintively as Harsana and I hike to a ridge in Manger bani for a rare glimpse of the original vegetation of the Aravalis mountain range. From the top, rocky slopes are colonized by the hardy dhau (Terminalia anogeissiana), a tree which has all but disappeared from neighboring areas. In 2015, the then chief minister of Haryana declared Manger to be a forest, added a buffer zone of 1,200 acres and declared the entire area a no-construction zone. But legal tangles continue to endanger the forest. And religious beliefs — a part of the forest is believed to be protected by the spirit of a holy man, Gudariya Baba — have now become tools in unscrupulous hands, Harsana says.  Having contracted polio as a child, Harsana walks with a limp. He hauls himself painfully over the unforgiving terrain to point out a tiny new shrine here, a new road there, saying that these could well be the start of a new land grab. He runs a weekly Eco Club for local schoolchildren to inculcate a love for the forest in their midst.  “Two of our students have returned to volunteer with us at the Eco Club, and three others are working on eco-restoration projects elsewhere,” he says. “And their parents also at least know why they should protect the bani instead of selling it for real estate.”  In Alwar, Singh too is wary of using the word “sacred” in connection with the groves they protect. “We advocate a strong legal framework to conserve devbanis and orans as ecological  heritage,” he says, adding, “not as national parks, which separate communities from the forest, or religious sites — but as community-owned and community-led conservation areas.” A tiny shrine under an old ficus tree in Manger. Credit: Geetanjali Krishna In 2024, he petitioned the Supreme Court to recognize and preserve Rajasthan’s devbanis and orans. Recognizing their crucial role in conservation, groundwater recharge, grazing regulation and sustaining local livelihoods, the court directed the state government to map them, prevent them from being used for non-forest purposes, and ensure community participation in their management.  “Moreover, the court stated that traditional community-conserved ecosystems across India, and not just in Rajasthan, cannot be treated as ‘wasteland’ and must be safeguarded,” a visibly elated Singh says.  Wait, you're not a member yet? Join the Reasons to be Cheerful community by supporting our nonprofit publication and giving what you can. Join Cancel anytime Meanwhile, at Adaval ki devbani — far removed from courts, religious manipulation and real estate avarice — there is a sense of peace. An 80-year-old pilgrim has ridden his motorcycle 50 miles to get here.  “I’d been feeling stressed the past few months and decided to visit,” he says, massaging his aching back. “Can you feel how special this devbani is? The sound of flowing water and the cool breezes have washed my stress away.” The post The Verdant Refuge of India’s Sacred Groves appeared first on Reasons to be Cheerful.

BY THE OPTIMIST DAILY EDITORIAL TEAM After a flood, a pipe break, or a contamination event, one of the most pressing questions is also one of the hardest to answer fast: is the water safe? Standard microbiological testing takes hours, sometimes a full day. In that gap, people make decisions without good information, and public health officials try to manage a situation they cannot fully assess. Researchers at Germany’s Federal Institute for Materials Research and Testing (BAM) have built something for exactly that gap. Their device tests water for waste contamination in under a minute, using a single drop of water and a smartphone. The test targets urobilin, a compound produced during hemoglobin breakdown and released through human and animal waste. Its presence in water signals possible contamination. The test strip reacts to the molecule by emitting light, which the phone’s camera reads in real time. How it works The hardware is minimal: a small LED module in a 3D-printed attachment that clips onto a smartphone. The phone powers the light source, and its camera captures the strip’s luminescence as it happens. No additional chemicals, no preparation steps. The team calls it a “drop-and-detect” approach. Swayam Prakash, who developed the test as a Marie Curie Fellow at BAM alongside chemical sensing expert Knut Rurack, said the system held up in real-world testing. “The rapid test was successfully validated using real water samples from rivers as well as at the inflow and outflow of a Berlin wastewater treatment plant. Even under complex environmental conditions with natural interfering substances, urobilin was reliably detected.” The test picks up very low concentrations of the compound, which matters for catching contamination before levels climb. Why it matters in the field Portability is the point. Traditional lab-based testing requires centralized facilities and trained staff. That limits how quickly results can happen, and in many regions the infrastructure doesn’t exist at all. This system is compact enough to carry into a disaster zone and simple enough to use without technical training. For relief teams, a one-minute answer changes what is possible during a flood response or infrastructure failure. Results can be stored and shared digitally, which could help coordinate monitoring across wider areas. The researchers believe the same platform could eventually detect other waterborne markers beyond urobilin. For now, the immediate application is clear: faster answers in the places where waiting is least affordable. Source study: ACS Sensors— Rapid onsite detection of fecal contamination in water using a portable fluorometric assay     Did this solution stand out? Share it with a friend or support our mission by becoming an Emissary.The post Smartphone test detects water contamination in under a minute first appeared on The Optimist Daily: Making Solutions the News.

BY THE OPTIMIST DAILY EDITORIAL TEAM Most people have two main places: home and work. The idea that you need a third sounds obvious the moment you hear it, which is maybe why sociologist Ray Oldenburg felt the need to write a whole book about it in 1989. That book, The Great Good Place, named the concept: “third places” are spaces where people gather outside home and work, with no particular agenda, just to be somewhere together. The village square, the barbershop, the front stoop. The coffee shop where the same people show up every Tuesday and eventually learn each other’s names. “Third places are the environments where belonging has room to take shape,” says Spud Marshall, author of Designing Creative Communities. The trouble is that these spaces have been designed out of the way most Americans live. How modern life pushed them out Lucy Rose, founder of the Cost of Loneliness Project, traces the decline to overlapping forces. “Zoning laws often divide residential areas from shops, cafés, and gathering spaces, which means people must drive long distances to reach everyday meeting spots,” she says. “Car-dependent communities keep people moving quickly from place to place rather than lingering in shared spaces. Remote work has also reduced the number of casual interactions that once happened during the workday. As a result, many people now move between two primary environments: home and screens.” Without a third place, the only way to connect with other people is to schedule it, perform it, or scroll toward a digital approximation of it. Third places work because they ask so little. “They allow people to arrive and simply be present,” Rose says. “You do not need an invitation or a plan for conversation. You only need to show up.” That low bar is the whole point. These spaces give people a chance “to exchange ideas, build relationships, and feel like they have a role in shaping the place where they live,” Marshall says. Ten places worth trying The best third place is usually the one that already fits your habits. Coffee shops Cafés invite lingering by design. “People come at similar times each day and begin recognizing one another. Familiarity builds quickly in spaces like this,” Rose says. Coffee shops draw a mix of freelancers, students, and remote workers who want somewhere to be outside the house without needing a particular reason, which is exactly the kind of low-key regularity that turns strangers into familiar faces. Parks and community gardens These lush spaces offer connection without requiring it. Rene Mondy, a licensed professional counselor and founder of the Solo Dining Directory, notes that walking paths and benches let you choose your level of engagement on any given day. If you want something more social, volunteer at a community garden. “Working side-by-side creates conversation without forcing it,” Rose says. “People tend to return through the growing season, which gives relationships time to develop naturally.” Maker’s spaces Think: pottery studios, woodshops, fabrication labs. These creative hubs attract people who would rather build something together than make small talk. “These spaces tend to attract builders, artists, tinkerers, and curious learners,” Marshall says. “Conversation tends to emerge naturally, and collaborations often follow.” Restaurants “They offer many of my counseling clients structure, such as seating, ordering, and sensory engagement through food and conversation,” says Mondy. Becoming a regular somewhere is an easy way to be known without having to introduce yourself each time. Farmer’s markets Farmer’s markets have a built-in weekly rhythm that makes casual encounters almost inevitable. “The routine of a Saturday market becomes a shared community rhythm where casual interactions happen easily,” Rose says. These events, Marshall adds, create “a low-pressure environment where families, neighbors, and local entrepreneurs all interact in the same space.” Public libraries A library could be the most accessible third place in most towns: free and open to everyone. “They serve students, parents with young kids, job seekers, retirees, and lifelong learners,” Marshall says. Many also offer book clubs, language classes, and local programming that give people a reason to return. Libraries are closing across the country due to funding cuts, so showing up has benefits in both directions. Museums Museums suit anyone who wants to be around people without the obligation to talk. “Museums and galleries naturally support reflection,” Mondy says. “Ultimately, third places give us permission to pause, which allows us to grow.” Dog parks Dog parks remove the awkwardness of introducing yourself to a stranger. “Dogs often make introductions easier than people do,” Rose says. “Owners return with predictable routines and begin seeing the same faces again and again.” Gyms and fitness studios Spaces built around classes or groups create the kind of repeated contact that gradually becomes familiarity. “Running clubs, pickleball groups, and yoga classes bring people together around a shared activity. Repeated participation builds familiarity and trust over time,” Rose says. Bookstores Bookshops, particularly independent ones, are worth seeking out partly for their own sake. Like libraries, they’re closing faster than they’re opening. “Bookstores encourage curiosity and quiet exploration,” Mondy says. “They allow people to browse and spend time without needing to interact unless they want to.” The variety matters because different things work for different people and different moods. A good third place doesn’t require you to be socially ready, only present. Most are closer to your daily life than you’d expect. The trick is stopping instead of passing through.     Did this solution stand out? Share it with a friend or support our mission by becoming an Emissary.The post The low-effort way to build real connection: finding your third place first appeared on The Optimist Daily: Making Solutions the News.

Artemis II astronaut Victor Glover felt the enormity of space when he went on his historic mission around the moon, and the experience has brought him closer to god. Glover and his crewmates, Reid Wiseman, Christina Koch, and Jeremy Hansen, returned to Earth on Friday, April 10, after a 10-day trip to the moon. After going through an extensive post-mission evaluation, they met a crowd at NASA’s Johnson Space Center in Houston and shared their thoughts on their experiences. Victor Glover, the Artemis pilot, still hadn’t wrapped his head around his whirlwind trip to the cosmos. But one thing he did know was that it gave him a deeper sense of faith, “I’m going to keep it brief because I’m afraid to start talking,” he admitted. “I have not processed what we just did, and I’m afraid to start even trying. When this started on April 3rd, I wanted to thank God in public. And I want to thank God again because even bigger than my challenge trying to describe what we went through, the gratitude of seeing what we saw, doing what we did, and being with who I was with, it’s too big to just be in one body.” The Artemis II Crew Laid the Framework For a Massive Mission When the crew left Earth on April 1st and did their lunar fly-by, they ventured further into space than any human had before. The mission was part of a bigger plan to put people back on the moon. And the data collected will be used for the planned missions. Artemis III is projected to blast off in 2027 and will test equipment. Artemis IV and V will drop a crew on the moon’s surface and build a moon base. The massive mission reminded Glover that what really matters is god, his family, wife, Dionna Glover, and their four daughter, Genesis, Maya, Joia, and Corinne, and everyone who supported the crew. And he wanted to be sure they all understood that. “I wanted to thank our families for everything that he just said so many great words, great words, great words. I love you, but not just those five beautiful, cocoa-skinned ladies right there. All of you,” he continued. “And, I wanted to thank our leadership, and it’s changed since we were here in April of 2023. But the qualities haven’t and we are fortunate to be in this agency at this time together and so I’m going to sit down. Thank you also to our air operations for this facility and for the ride home from San Diego. And I love you. Thank you.” This story’s featured image is by Danielle Villasana/Getty Images.

We’ve all heard those inspirational speeches that tell us to live our lives unabashedly and dance like no one’s watching, right? Well, unless you’re in your own home, all alone, there’s likely someone or something that will see you shaking your groove thing. If you’re not afraid of the public’s opinion, go on with your bad self. But if you’re the type who doesn’t love to hear what others have to say, it’s best to keep your moves to yourself. A dancing farmer on Instagram just wanted to show his alpaca pal some dancing moves. And it went horribly wrong in the most hilarious way. View this post on Instagram A post shared by Darby Acres Farm and Safari (@darbyacresfarmandsafari) The Alpaca Seemed to Like the Dancing Farmer at First It didn’t take long for the alpaca to become completely unenchanted with the dancing farmer’s move. But now that we think about it, he was dancing to I’ll Be Missing You. If the Alpaca’s up to speed on the Diddy situation, that’s likely why things ended the way they did. Nevertheless, the video gave us, and many others, a really good laugh. “That Alpaca said I thought we made it clear we don’t listen to diddy over here!” Someone joked. “That was the spirit animal of biggie hitting diddy combs for dancing that song on the tribute,” another person laughed. This person thinks they figured out why the alpaca went after the dancing farmer. “Either the Alpaca is pissed off that out of the millions of songs, you went with Diddy, OR, the Alpaca is pissed that you named him Jeff….imm,” they wrote. We’re not sure if the farmer put his dancing boots back on, but we’ll bet he doesn’t try that in front of his alpaca pals again. This story’s featured image can be found here.