Some Part of Me Felt Like I Had Found My Way Home (Or, What Happened at the Southface Eco-Office Dedication Ceremony)

So I stood there on the sidewalk in front of the Southface Energy Institute Eco-Office, some lemonade in a compostable cup in hand.

After hugging Judy of the CSA, who is now the marketing director of Southface, I had already bee-lined toward the outdoor gardens. I had already indulged myself in taking photos of raised bed gardens, a beehive, rainbarrels, composting bins, a bike parking area complete with an air machine, a plethora of nut and fruit trees, muscadine vines, extensive native plantings, and a dry creek bed that ends in a cistern.

So as I waited for the speeches, the native vine for the ribbon cutting draped across the stairs attractively, this UPS package car pulled up (I know they are called package cars instead of trucks, by the way, because I used to work at the global headquarters and this kind of detail is drilled into your head there; I also used to work at CNN and you were fined if you used the word "foreign" since, the theory goes, nothing is foreign to a network with global coverage).

And I shot this photo. I don't think UPS has any particular relationship with the Southface Eco-Office, yet is has a relationship with me, since I worked there. Since I've been following its move toward increased sustainability and leveraging the energy-saving lessons it is learning from its current status as having the largest alternative fuel fleet in the industry with 2,200 vehicles. And since I just heard that the UPS Foundation, in conjunction with the Earthday Network, is rolling out the Atlanta-based Clean Air Campaign's No Idling program at schools nationwide. (FYI, only one public school in my City of Dunwoody currently asks parents on the carpool lane to not idle.)

I didn't realize until I got home that this photo not only reflected me, but also reflected the Eco-Office and the people who were standing there waiting for the ceremony. It reflected us all. It reflected Atlanta. It perhaps, in some way, reflects you as well, and the changes that are happening in your company or country.

I traipsed around the Eco-Office on the expertly-given tour, driving poor Bourke and John crazy with questions (Are the cartridges used in the waterless urinals recyclable? Are these carpet tiles the ones that Ray Anderson of Interface talked about as the design solution that mimics the forest floor? In which cases would you recommend using low-VOC paints and in which would you use no-VOC paints? What exactly is marmoleum? Is the wood in the training center tables sustainably harvested? What are some examples of adaptive reuse within this building? What are the advantages of open-cell foam insulation? You get the drift!) when we finally emerged onto the Green Roof, right there in the shadow, ever so symbolically, of the Georgia Power building.

And some part of me felt like I had found my way home. First, you have the 1,700-gallon cistern, looking like the water tower where the Petticoat Junction sisters used to swim in that ridiculous TV show from the 1970s (okay, I'm dating myself, but I have no problem with that). Then, you have the sedum covering the roof, intercepted by a curvy path made of squishy square tiles, all feeling very inviting and homey and almost "gosh, I know this place." I remembered when I lived in a fifth-floor walk-up in New York City and I discovered the door that led to the roof and suddenly found myself out there every Sunday with a little lawn chair and my newspaper. Or how my friend and I used to make up choreography to Abba's Dancing Queen on the roof outside my bedroom window, or how I used to crouch out there at night after my parents thought I went to bed, watching the stars and writing poetry by flashlight.

I walked from stepping stone to stepping stone, the memories flooding me, the sensation under my feet of these soft tiles new, however.

"What are these made of?" I asked, and this was about when the rest of the group and John moved along, leaving Bourke and me up on the roof.

Bourke told me that Georgia Power was redoing a playground and was replacing an existing track. The rubber from that track was going to go into the waste stream until it was repurposed as stepping stones. So right there on the roof of the Eco-Office was an attractive example of a material being reused as a project between a power giant and a non-profit organization promoting sustainable homes, workplaces and communities through education and technical assistance.

Less talk, more photos--here is it:


















Okay, I'll give you more.

Here is the rooftop Petticoat Junction cistern:


















Here is Georgia Power beyond the Eco-Office green roof:

















Here are the nut trees and muscadine vines:





















Here is the dry creek bed:

















Here is the lemonade and the compostable cups:














Here is the Eco-Office, taken from the Southface Eco-Office's excellent online press kit:



Here are the girls from Petticoat Junction swimming in the water tower on the TV show:




















And here is the most important photo of all. My friend Judy:



















Oh, and did I mention that the Southface Eco-Office achieved the Platinum level in LEED certification? Establishing a LEED policy for new government buildings is on the Atlanta Regional Commission Green Community Certification checklist, and that is one of the measures on which we are working right now through our City of Dunwoody Sustainability Commission. After visiting the Eco-Office, I totally get it now.

And I got a trip down memory lane and a glimpse of the future as well.