On a humid day in mid-June, Jessica Colby is hunched over a collection of bright green stems, each one waving a leaf or two, each one a tiny banner of hope. It’s almost noon, and the temperatures in the greenhouses at the University of Massachusetts in Amherst are climbing. Colby pushes her hair off her damp brow and, wielding a small blade, gently scrapes the outer layer from the stem she is holding, before dipping it in rooting powder and adding it to the lineup of cuttings anchored before her in a moistened block of foam. The leafy stems march in straight rows across the table, like a band of miniature soldiers fighting for a cause.

Blood and water. It was the summer of 2013, and the words ricocheted through press accounts, as tensions in Africa’s Nile Basin reached an all-time high and the media trumpeted the possibility of war. For generations, conflict had been brewing along the Nile, where 11 countries—more than 400 million people—depend on the world’s longest river for drinking water, electricity, irrigation, and transportation.

In the basement of the American Repertory Theater, Matt Gould (’01) is pulling on his favorite leather boots—the ones with the soles that can really hammer out the sound. Outside, the February night in Cambridge, Massachusetts, is bitterly cold, with wind chills pushing temperatures into the single digits. But in Gould’s tiny, brightly lit dressing room, the radiators are on overdrive.

The man in the black Cadillac showed up late in the summer of 1973. Plenty of people had seen him, driving back and forth along Bay Road, the ribbon of pavement that winds around the edge of New Hampshire’s Great Bay between Durham and Newmarket. He was knocking on doors as he went, talking to property owners one by one. He wanted to buy land, he told them. For a bird sanctuary. For a family estate. For a golf course. People were mystified. Rumor had it there was money to be made. Lots of it.

On short notice, the University of New Hampshire Magazine was in need of an editor for the spring 2013 issue, and I stepped in to oversee production of the 64-page alumni magazine.

Alison Forbes runs a successful college consulting business, but she had an outdated website that didn’t reflect her dynamic and engaging approach. Along with developing fresh copy for existing pages, we added new copy—short profiles of college students and their parents.

Jonathan Bird ’02G has learned a thing or two during his career as an underwater cinematographer—like never snorkel with a bunch of gray reef sharks, who will mistake you for bait as you float on the surface. Instead, don your diving gear and swim among the shadowy fish, 200 feet down . . .

“Going Solo” examines a dramatic demographic trend: the startling increase in adults living alone. Along the way, the book navigates some rough and complicated emotional terrain, finding its way straight to questions of the heart, to the universal yearning for happiness and purpose. In the end, despite its title, “Going Solo ” is really about living better together — for all of us, single or not.