Soup kitchens are traditionally associated with processions of the hungry crowding city sidewalks outside centers where food is offered in a mess-hall style for free or for a very low price. The long wait draws unwanted attention from passers by, heightening the shame often associated with poverty.

Masbia, meaning "satiate,” was founded in Borough Park in 2005. It became the first soup kitchen of its kind serving the hungry in a restaurant-style center, offering kosher food and a seat at a natural wood table with leafy green plants, to allow the diners some privacy. Patrons were offered entrees balanced with protein, starch, a vegetable, and dessert, as well as an array of fresh breads to complement the hot soup.

With the opening of its latest location on Coney Island Avenue in Midwood (between Avenues J and K), Masbia has attracted patrons from outside of the Jewish community. My Neighborhood Statistics, a report from the Mayor's Office, mentions that Masbia's latest kitchen has served 1.5 million patrons who received food stamps during 2008.

In his high school years, Richard Moylan began what would turn out to be a lifelong dedication to a place many instinctively shy away from.

Moylan, president of the famed Green-Wood Cemetery for nearly four decades now, had followed in the footsteps of his grandfather and father who both worked at the cemetery, and took his first job at Green-wood as a grass-cutter. Though he went through law school and passed the Bar, he found himself drawn back to the work at the cemetery – he liked working outdoors and participating in a variety of projects.

But in the beginning, he was hesitant to tell people his occupation.

Moylan, president of the famed Green-Wood Cemetery for nearly four decades now, had followed in the footsteps of his grandfather and father who both worked at the cemetery, and took his first job at Green-wood as a grass-cutter. Though he went through law school and passed the Bar, he found himself drawn back to the work at the cemetery – he liked working outdoors and participating in a variety of projects.

But in the beginning, he was hesitant to tell people his occupation.

The waters which flank the inlets of Marine Park and Gerritsen Beach and stretch into the Rockaways may often go unnoticed amid the cars whizzing by and in the rush of daily life. Yet these waters provide for the urban area a resource of wildlife and vegetation, a home for an array of plant and animal species -- a bit of aquatic aesthetic for the populated city.

Not more than four years ago, the City of New York responded to the highly recognized marsh-loss crisis in Jamaica Bay, one of the most abundant and productive coastal ecosystems in the northeastern United States and the largest tidal wetland complex in the New York metropolitan area. The bay is now protected by Local Law 71, which required the city Department of Environmental Protection to develop a plan to restore and maintain the water quality and ecological integrity of Jamaica Bay. A seven-member advisory committee was set up to assist in the plan development, and most recently, a portion of Jamaica Bay, the Marine Park Salt Marsh, was named a Forever Wild Preserve.

MARINE PARK -- To many, Brooklyn means urban life, a small step from the bustle of Manhattan and a place where busy avenues and 24-hour mini-markets meet tree-canopied streets and rural-inspired homes. Yet for organizations like the Salt Marsh Alliance, a non-profit of volunteers dedicated to preserving and promoting Marine Park’s Nature Center, Brooklyn is a place of natural beauty, an ecologically developed marshland right outside our window.

The overcast clouds on September 11, 2009 were hardly reminiscent of the crisp, blue skies of September 11, 2001, when terrorists rammed hijacked planes into the World Trade Center and into the Pentagon. Rather, the day started with rain to mix with the tears for those lost, for the remembrance of a tragedy that, as the years pass, gets pushed further back into history.

By 6:30 p.m., the rains had ceased -- timed perfectly to begin the annual memorial at Bill Brown Park in Brooklyn, a tradition set eight years ago by the 9/11 Memorial Committee.

Bay area resident Ray Fiore recounted that he pulled his car into Bill Brown Park following the attacks on September 11, 2001. Encouraged, he said, by the spirit of God, he began to paint on the cracked walls of the handball court a memorial in honor of those lost. People steadily passing through as he worked gave more names to add to the wall. Justin Errante, a 9/11 Memorial Committee member, had pulled into the park with his car to provide light so Ray could continue painting through the night.