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BBC News

Jim Gettings still remembers every detail of that first peacetime Christmas in 1945 — the one that came after six years of war, ration books, and bomb raids. Now 100, the Royal Marine veteran from Hessle, East Yorkshire, holds a black-and-white photo of his late wife Joan and smiles gently as he revisits what was then dubbed “Victory Christmas.”

“I had to get home,” he said. “It was Christmas, and my wife was pregnant.”

With just two days’ leave from the Royal Navy and no money for a train ticket, Gettings was determined to make it home. He boarded anyway, showed the ticket inspector his leave pass, and explained the situation.

“I said, ‘I'm skint! I've no money, what can we do?’” he recalled. “The inspector looked around, saw no one else was watching, and just said, ‘Go on then. Clear off!’”

All he had left was a few coins — just enough for the bus fare to get him the rest of the way.

Gettings, who joined the Royal Marines the moment he turned 18, was no stranger to hardship. He’d grown up during the Depression, joined an anti-aircraft battery in Hull at 16, and had survived the blast of a parachute mine dropped on his neighbourhood earlier in the war. Later, he was posted to Holland, holding the southern bank of the River Maas while German forces held the north.

That Christmas in 1945, Britain was still under rationing, but the atmosphere had changed. Lights were strung up. There were no sirens, no bombs falling overhead. For the first time in years, people could celebrate without fear.

“We didn’t have much, but we had peace,” he said.

The previous year, in 1944, he had asked for leave to marry his fiancée Joan — a librarian three years his senior whom he met while working in a library. Initially denied, his sergeant eventually relented.

“He told me war isn't time for stuff like that,” Gettings said. “But then he said, ‘I'll give you a week's leave — do what you like with it.’” That week, he and Joan married.

As Germany surrendered in May 1945, celebrations swept across Britain. Town squares filled with people. Street parties broke out. But for those still stationed in Europe, the mood was different.

“It was just the end of the war. We didn't celebrate at all,” he said. He and other Marines were stationed in former German barracks — places previously filled with enemy soldiers. Then, something unexpected happened.

“After a while, the German lads started to drift back into the barracks, and we were all mixed up together,” Gettings said. “We’d give them bully beef. We were just soldiers together. No hatred. Just soldiers.”

That moment — the absence of anger or revenge — stayed with him.

After the war, he and Joan built a life together. They raised three children and now have eight grandchildren and 17 great-grandchildren. He still talks about the effort it took to defeat Germany and the role the Royal Air Force played.

“If anyone tried to stop us, the marvellous RAF sorted them out,” he said. “We never stopped.”

Nearly eight decades later, Gettings’ memories of Christmas 1945 remain clear — not for the gifts or the food, but for what it meant. He was home. The war was over. And there was new life on the way.

That, he says, is what made it a true Victory Christmas.

A 100-Year-Old Royal Marine Recalls His First Christmas After WWII: 'No Hatred, Just Soldiers'

The Cool Down

Electric vehicle drivers in Wisconsin are about to get a lot more charging options. The state just awarded $14 million in federal grants to install nearly 30 new fast-charging stations, part of a broader push to expand EV infrastructure and support clean energy.

The latest funding round is a piece of a larger $37 million rollout across two phases, with a total of 78 projects now receiving support under the federal Bipartisan Infrastructure Law. That law, passed in 2021, set aside over $1 trillion for upgrading roads, bridges, internet access, and green energy nationwide.

In Wisconsin, charging stations will now appear at spots like Target, hotels, a chocolate shop, and 11 Kwik Trip locations — a gas and convenience store chain that's become a familiar pit stop across the Midwest.

“WisDOT is pleased to help offer drivers reliable and convenient places to stop so they can feel comfortable making a trip across the state and have the opportunity to support local businesses along the way,” said Wisconsin Department of Transportation Secretary Kristina Boardman in a statement reported by Wisconsin Public Radio.

Nearly 40,000 electric vehicles are currently registered in Wisconsin, and that number is expected to rise as access to fast, reliable charging expands. The state’s long-term goal is to make EV road trips feel just as easy as filling up a tank of gas.

That momentum hit a political roadblock earlier this year.

In early 2025, the Trump administration abruptly halted the National Electric Vehicle Infrastructure (NEVI) program, putting a temporary stop to Wisconsin’s charging plans. The move sparked legal action from Wisconsin and several other states, arguing the administration had overstepped by pausing an already-approved program.

A federal judge sided with the states in June, ruling that the funding must resume. Shortly after, Gov. Tony Evers celebrated the decision, saying the restart would not only modernize Wisconsin’s transportation systems but also promote job growth and keep the state competitive.

“Restarting this program will help Wisconsin meet the evolving requirements of the modern economy,” Evers said.

The new fast chargers being funded aren’t just about convenience. They’re also aimed at supporting local businesses and encouraging cleaner travel.

“We're confident that these fast-charging stations, through this next round of grants, will help meet the evolving needs of residents and visitors to our state,” said DOT spokesperson John DesRivieres, “ensuring we've got EV infrastructure in place to help folks get from Point A to Point B.”

That idea — supporting small businesses while reducing emissions — is central to the state’s rollout. Many of the charging stations are located on private properties, giving travelers more reasons to stop, shop, and spend while they wait for their EVs to recharge.

Wisconsin has now committed over $22 million for more than 50 projects through the NEVI program, with a total of $37 million granted when including both rounds of funding.

With the federal funds flowing again and charging stations expanding across urban and rural areas, the state is banking on a cleaner, more connected future — one where electric cars can go the distance without drivers having to worry where they’ll power up next.

Wisconsin Awards $14 Million In Federal Grants For Electric Vehicle Charging Stations

ABC - Australia

In a quiet corner of Perth’s inner-west, a small boxing class is offering more than just a workout. It's building community — one jab, cross, and heartfelt conversation at a time.

The free, non-combat boxing sessions are part of The Boxing Project, an initiative focused on creating safe, welcoming spaces for LGBTQIA+ participants — though anyone is welcome. The goal is simple: build strength, both physical and emotional, and offer an antidote to social isolation.

Sonya Frossine, a regular at the class, said it felt completely different from traditional fitness settings.

“I felt like an outsider in those spaces,” she said. “But in The Boxing Project, there’s never been a single class where I’ve felt that way. I just feel more confident walking out into the world, both on a physical and a psychological level.”

The format is unique. It begins with 45 minutes of non-combat boxing — no ring, no fighting, just movement and drills focused on fitness. That’s followed by 45 minutes of group conversation, where participants open up about life, identity, and whatever else is on their mind.

“It’s a nice space for us to talk about things that are on our mind, things that we haven’t had a chance to talk about with other people in our lives,” Frossine said.

The class is the brainchild of instructor Amy Collins, who launched it as a queer-focused extension of The Boxing Project, which originally began in 2017 to empower women in the wake of the MeToo movement.

“The idea was that often gyms can be spaces that might feel a little bit intimidating,” they said. “We’re thinking: how do we create an area that people can learn those physical literacy skills?”

That question eventually led to a broader mission — creating a non-gendered, non-judgmental space where people could show up as themselves, regardless of experience, identity, or income.

“I think gym and sports is really heavily gendered. Here’s a space where I’m not checking anyone’s gender ID at the door,” Collins said. “You can make your own [space] — it doesn’t have to be boxing — but it’s about giving people the place to come together.”

The need for spaces like this is growing. A recent national report from Beyond Blue found loneliness and social isolation have reached new heights in Australia. The latest HILDA survey found that young people aged 15 to 24 are the loneliest demographic. And for LGBTQIA+ people, that risk is even higher.

Dr Robbie Eres, a clinical psychologist at Deakin University, studies the effects of loneliness on minority groups. He says LGBTQIA+ Australians are about 4.5 times more likely to experience “problematic” loneliness.

“We’re really realising how scary and dangerous loneliness can be,” Eres said. “It affects not just mental health, but physical health too — from cardiovascular disease to immune response.”

The reasons, he explained, are complex: lack of family support, limited sense of belonging, and the ongoing pressure of minority stress.

That’s why projects like this one matter. Dr Eres said The Boxing Project provides a strong foundation for connection — using a shared activity to open the door to conversation, trust, and community.

“It’s creating a really safe space to practice some of the social communication skills that we often take for granted,” he said.

For instructor Collins, the project is also deeply personal. When they started attending boxing classes years ago, it came at a time of upheaval.

“I had just started uni. I didn’t know that many people. And a lot of my good friends from high school very rudely moved overseas or to different states,” they joked. “I found coming to boxing, it was the time in my week where I had a really good and genuine conversation.”

Now, they’re offering that same opportunity to others — and the impact is growing. No one’s keeping score, and no one’s asked to perform. The focus is on showing up, connecting, and feeling a little more grounded.

As for Frossine, her takeaway from the project is simple. “Women, queer people — we’re here to take up space, to get stronger, to meet each other,” she said.

Asked to sum up the experience, she chose three words: powerful, supportive, transformative.

How This LGBTQIA+ Boxing Class is Punching Back Against Loneliness

A little bird has made big news in Vancouver.

Dozens of birdwatchers gathered at Sunset Beach Park on Sunday after a taiga flycatcher — a species never before recorded in Canada — was spotted on Christmas Day by local birder Ethan Moon.

At first glance, the small bird doesn’t stand out. But for those in the know, it’s a remarkable and rare sighting. Taiga flycatchers normally breed in eastern Russia and Mongolia, and typically migrate to parts of Southeast Asia like northeast India, Thailand, and China.

“To have one show up in Vancouver is a once-in-a-generation moment,” Moon said. “It’s a long journey for a little guy.”

Word of the sighting spread quickly through birding communities across the continent. Some enthusiasts traveled hours — even across the border — for a chance to catch a glimpse.

“It was worth the trip,” said Jennifer Standish, who drove up from Seattle. “We’ve seen nothing like it.”

Vancouver birder Emma Sutherland called the moment “thrilling,” watching the bird bounce through the brush as it foraged. “It was so lively. My husband and I will never forget it.”

The excitement highlights how one unexpected visitor can unite a community of nature lovers — and how even the most ordinary-looking bird can cause a stir when it shows up in the wrong place at the right time.

Birders Flock to Vancouver After Rare Russian Bird Spotted for the First Time in Canada

Science Alert

When paleontologists discovered a grapefruit-sized dinosaur egg in a fossil bed in eastern China, they weren’t expecting sparkles. But inside the ancient shell, instead of an embryo or sediment, they found something rare: gleaming crystals of calcite lining the inner walls — essentially, a natural dinosaur geode.

The egg, uncovered in the Qianshan Basin’s Chishan Formation, dates back roughly 70 million years to the Upper Cretaceous period. It’s one of the first dinosaur-related fossils ever found in this region, which is better known for ancient turtles, birds, and early mammals from the Paleocene.

But it’s not just the glimmering surprise that excited scientists. The egg represents a newly identified oospecies — a species classification based on egg characteristics — named Shixingoolithus qianshanensis. It was described in a 2022 paper led by Qing He of Anhui University.

Though no embryo was found inside, and no known fossil skeleton has been definitively linked to the Shixingoolithus egg type, scientists are confident it came from a dinosaur. The shell’s microscopic structure closely matches that of other dinosaur eggs, differing clearly from the eggs of modern birds or reptiles.

And in this case, the crystal-filled interior offers even more than novelty. It's a window into prehistoric environments.

For crystals like these to form, the egg’s original contents — likely an embryo — would first have to decay, leaving an empty shell. Over time, groundwater seeps into the hollow space through cracks and pores, depositing dissolved minerals. As the water slowly evaporates, it leaves behind sparkling calcite crystals.

That process, while beautiful, is also scientifically useful. By analyzing the shape, chemistry, and formation of those crystals, researchers can extract clues about the water chemistry, soil conditions, and broader environment of the dinosaur’s nesting site.

In fact, earlier this year, a separate study used calcite crystals in a different dinosaur egg to directly date the fossil itself — a first in paleontology. Since the crystals formed after burial, they carry a chemical signature of the fluids that once flowed through the ancient sediment.

This kind of fossilization — where organic remains are transformed into mineral-rich capsules — is one of the more spectacular tricks Earth has up its sleeve. From opal-filled bones to glittering egg geodes, the planet keeps finding ways to preserve the tiniest details of its deep past.

And in this case, it happened to leave a dinosaur egg filled with crystals — part prehistoric clue, part natural treasure.

Scientists Crack Open Dinosaur Egg—Find a Glittering Geode Instead

ABCNews

If you like gazing up into the night sky, 2026 is shaping up to be a big year — and the moon and sun are taking center stage.

Starting things off is a rare mix of moon missions, supermoons, and a long-awaited return to deep space by astronauts. Then comes the sun, ready to dazzle with eclipses, solar storms, and maybe even a few auroras in places you wouldn’t expect.

For the first time in over 50 years, astronauts will head back to the moon — sort of. NASA’s Artemis II crew, led by Reid Wiseman, will orbit the moon without landing. The ten-day mission is scheduled to launch early in the year with three Americans and one Canadian. Their path will take them around the far side of the moon before returning to Earth.

“There’s a good chance he and his crew will be the first to lay eyeballs on large swaths of the lunar far side that were missed by the Apollo astronauts,” Wiseman said, calling it a valuable opportunity for geologists and planners of future missions.

Robotic moon landings will pick up too. Blue Origin, owned by Jeff Bezos, is planning to launch its massive 8-meter-tall Blue Moon prototype — a test version of the lander it’s building for future NASA missions. When complete, the crew version will be nearly double that size.

Two other U.S. companies, Astrobotic Technology and Intuitive Machines, are returning with new gear for the lunar surface. Meanwhile, Firefly Aerospace, the only private company so far to stick a lunar landing, is aiming for a touchdown on the moon’s far side.

China’s also jumping into the race, literally. The country plans to send a rover and a hopper — designed to leap between permanently shadowed craters — to the moon’s south pole, a region rich in the promise of water ice.

Back on Earth, the moon will put on its own light show. The first of three supermoons will rise on January 3, followed by another on November 24 and a finale on Christmas Eve — the closest and brightest of the year. A blue moon also appears in May, adding to the lunar lineup.

If you're more of a solar eclipse chaser, mark your calendar for August 12. A total eclipse will stretch across the Arctic, Greenland, Iceland, and parts of Spain. For a brief two minutes and 18 seconds, the moon will perfectly block the sun. The show will be shorter than 2027’s 6.5-minute eclipse, but still a highlight.

Earlier in the year, on February 17, a “ring-of-fire” eclipse will pass over Antarctica. Few will see it, but parts of South Africa, Chile, and Argentina will get a partial view. Two weeks later, a total lunar eclipse will follow, and a partial lunar eclipse will close things out in late August.

February will also bring a rare planetary alignment. On the 28th, six of the solar system’s eight planets will be visible together in the evening sky. Mercury, Venus, Jupiter, and Saturn will be easy to spot with the naked eye, while Uranus and Neptune will need binoculars or a telescope. Mars skips this one, but joins a similar gathering in August.

Comet fans, meanwhile, are watching one of the rarest guests we get: an interstellar visitor. Known as 3I/Atlas, the comet came from another star system and just passed Earth in December. It's now fading fast and will fly past Jupiter in March before heading back to deep space — never to return. It’s only the third interstellar object ever confirmed.

“I can’t believe it’s taken this long to find three,” said NASA’s Paul Chodas, who’s been tracking them since the 1980s. “The chance of catching another interstellar visitor will increase” as technology improves.

Finally, all eyes are on the sun. As the 11-year solar cycle peaks and begins to decline, expect continued solar storms, flares, and possibly geomagnetic activity that sparks auroras in unusual places. A new observatory launched last fall will begin feeding data to researchers, offering better forecasts for the sun’s behavior.

“2026 will be an exciting year for space weather enthusiasts,” said Rob Steenburgh at the U.S. National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.

From moonshots to meteors, eclipses to interstellar comets, this year’s space calendar has something for everyone — and plenty of chances to just look up.

The Moon and Sun Are Set to Steal the Show in 2026 — Here's How

Joan Lockley never set out to become a hedgehog expert. But 25 years after one walked across her garden in Staffordshire, she’s now rescued thousands — and isn’t slowing down.

“It started with one hedgehog that walked across my garden,” Lockley said. “The only thing I knew about hedgehogs then was that you should never see them in the daytime.”

She boxed it up, took it to a vet, and learned what to do. That small act set off a lifelong obsession. “Then I got hooked on them,” she said.

Today, Lockley runs West Midlands Hedgehog Rescue out of her back garden in Cheslyn Hay. The space — which she lovingly calls her “hosprickle” — can house up to 36 hedgehogs at a time. This past year, she’s cared for more than 600. In 2024, the number was even higher: over 800.

Her efforts haven’t gone unnoticed. Earlier this year, she was awarded a British Empire Medal for her work.

“I couldn’t believe it, I thought somebody was pulling my leg,” Lockley said. “You don’t realise that people can see the work that you’re doing.”

Now 82, she says she has no intention of stopping. “They are magic,” she said. “I don’t know anyone who doesn’t like hedgehogs.”

But while Lockley remains dedicated, she’s worried. The number of hedgehogs showing up at her rescue is down. It’s part of a broader trend that has conservationists alarmed.

The State of Britain’s Hedgehogs report found that hedgehog populations have dropped by as much as 30 percent in urban areas, and up to 50 percent in rural parts of the country since 2000. Experts cite habitat loss, pesticide use, and road deaths as major factors.

Lockley has seen the impact firsthand. “It’s hard work,” she admits, but she won’t stop doing what she can.

For those looking to help hedgehogs in their own gardens, she has simple advice: “I always recommend cat biscuits, or kitten biscuits, and always water.”

She also warns against a common misconception. “People think that come the autumn hedgehogs hibernate — they don’t all hibernate,” she said. “So keep feeding and putting water out 12 months of the year.”

That small gesture could help save a species that’s struggling — and keep Lockley’s beloved “hosprickle” just a little less busy.

At 82, This Woman Is Rescuing Hedgehogs From Her Garden — 600 This Year Alone

Paul Jenkinson didn’t set out to break records or raise money. The 70-year-old retired social worker from Nova Scotia just wanted to listen.

With a folding table, two chairs, and a hand-painted sign reading “You are not alone; I will listen,” Jenkinson spent most of 2025 on a coast-to-coast journey across Canada. His mission? To create space for strangers to feel heard — in public parks, cafes, sidewalks, and anywhere else people gathered.

“I think it’s exceeded my expectations,” he told CBC’s As It Happens host Nil Köksal during a follow-up interview in Abbotsford, British Columbia. “People have just, joyfully even, seen the sign and said, ‘Love what you’re doing,’ and either stood or sat with me and opened up their hearts.”

That human connection, he said, became the measure of success.

Jenkinson started his journey in Truro, Nova Scotia, with no fixed route and no guaranteed place to sleep. He relied on kindness — people who offered him places to stay, warm meals, or even just a chance to sit and chat. Some hosts lived modestly; others welcomed him into million-dollar homes. “That didn’t matter,” he said. “What mattered was that we would also have human connection.”

He decided early on that listening wouldn’t stop when he left the street. “I needed to just open my heart,” he said. “By not having a hard boundary about that, then I just had these wonderful experiences.”

Over the course of more than 23,000 kilometres, he met people from all walks of life — grandmothers, teenagers, newcomers, long-time locals, people living with grief, anxiety, fear, or self-doubt. And each conversation, Jenkinson said, reaffirmed the same thing: people want to be seen and heard.

In Calgary, he spotted a woman being helped down a path by a young man — likely her grandson, he assumed. When he asked what they were doing, the woman shared that they had just scattered the last of her husband’s ashes.

“The other grandchildren had come, but this one couldn’t make it, and so this grandmother had held her grief… and waited,” he recalled. “There was such a love between the two of them. It was beautiful to see.”

Another moment came when a young woman approached him with urgency. She sat down and said, “I’m a fake and I’m really worried that I’m going to hurt my friend.”

She explained that she’d recently been hired by a friend and was afraid of not measuring up, despite being well-qualified. “I have voices going on in my head,” she told him.

Jenkinson helped her talk through it. “You're accomplished. Your friend knows you're accomplished,” he told her. “You’re going to be fine.” She left visibly lighter, reassured by what she already knew but needed to hear aloud.

In Abbotsford, rainy weather pushed Jenkinson indoors. He found a spot inside the entrance of the Mennonite Central Committee — near a café, thrift store, and craft shop. Within days, he had regulars. Teenagers stopped by for Jolly Ranchers. Grandparents brought grandkids. People recognized him.

“I’ve given out Jolly Ranchers all across Canada now,” he said with a laugh. He also handed out $2,400 worth of Subway gift cards to help those facing food insecurity — a small gesture of generosity to match the spirit of his sign.

Looking back, he said the key wasn’t in having answers, but in holding space.

“One of the big things I learned is please do not start with an ‘I am’ statement,” he said. “As soon as you start with that, the other person now is required to say, ‘Well, I am this.’ If they agree, nobody learns very much. If we disagree, those are kind of like fighting words.”

Instead, he offers curiosity. “Tell me a bit about yourself. I promise I’ll listen. I won’t interrupt.”

That simple act, he said, unlocks something deeper. “If you ask them for wisdom, then they feel enabled. They feel like, ‘Ah, this person actually understands I’ve learned things in my life and I have something to share.’”

The result? People walked away feeling seen. “If you want to listen to people,” he said, “watch how they leave you. Are they more alive? Are they downcast? Are they angry? Did you contribute grace into their life?”

It’s not a tour most people would take. There was no corporate sponsor, no GoFundMe, no grand announcement. Just a man with two chairs, a sign, and a willingness to show up.

And that, Jenkinson said, was more than enough.

He Drove 23,000 Kilometres Across Canada With Two Chairs and a Sign That Said, “I Will Listen”

People

When Jess Elena and Jake Gomez graduated from college, they didn’t look for apartments or full-time jobs. They bought a bus.

Not just any bus, but a 40-foot school bus that they would eventually turn into a fully off-grid, solar-powered home on wheels — complete with custom interiors, water storage, and full-sized closets. The couple, both 25, now share their life on the road with over 1 million followers on TikTok.

It didn’t start smoothly. In fact, their first two buses were disasters.

Their original idea was sparked while planning for life after graduation. Both had been working at an ice cream shop in South Florida, saving money with dreams of traveling. They thought about spending a year abroad or taking a cross-country road trip, but none of it felt permanent. A van seemed like a logical solution — until they factored in their two cats. That’s when the idea of converting a school bus first came up.

“We thought, ‘We could make 40 feet of space actually sustainable,’” Elena told PEOPLE in an interview.

Their first bus broke down just 20 miles after purchase. Elena somehow convinced the auction house to take it back. The second made it almost a year, but then needed a $20,000 engine replacement they couldn’t justify.

“We got really depressed,” Gomez said. “We started questioning if this lifestyle was even possible.”

Just when they were ready to give up, a mechanic they knew mentioned a barely used school bus from a private school — only 35,000 miles on the odometer, a fraction of what diesel buses are built to handle. It felt like a final shot. Within two days, they made the purchase.

"All we cared about was that the engine worked," Gomez said.

Starting from scratch again meant letting go of the earlier buses. They kept what they could from the old builds, scrapped the rest, and shared the moment online. One clip — showing a crane crushing their old bus — went viral. “It was just leaving it all behind,” Elena said.

This time, they were all in. The couple moved to Georgia, rented a tiny home, and parked the new bus inside a fully equipped warehouse. For an entire year, they worked full-time on the build, documenting everything for social media.

“We did nothing else,” they said. “It was a crazy year, but totally worth it.”

And it shows. Their new home runs entirely off solar power and stored water, with no need to plug in. It holds 3,300 watts of solar panels, 1,800 amp-hours of lithium batteries, and 100 gallons of fresh water. That’s enough for air conditioning, appliances, and electronics.

The bathroom is Gomez’s pride and joy. “It’s the only room so far that is 100% complete, and it’s lush,” he said. “After a long time of not being able to use a bathroom comfortably, I wanted this to be the best one I’ve ever had.”

Elena, on the other hand, is thrilled about the storage space — something most bus conversions struggle with. “It’s rare to have a closet in a bus,” she said. “We have full-sized closets with drawers and hanging space. I can hold 12 pairs of shoes.”

Though some interior elements are still unfinished — including built-in furniture and a complete shower — the couple decided to take the bus on the road this fall.

Their route stretched from Florida to Washington State, down the West Coast, and back across the southern U.S. It wasn’t always glamorous. “Those first nights were kind of brutal,” Elena said. “Every time a semi went by, the whole bus would shake.”

Sometimes they slept in parking lots outside Walmarts or Home Depots. It wasn’t comfortable, but it got them where they needed to go. “A lot of those stops were just survival mode,” Gomez said.

Eventually, they found better options. Using camping apps, they began finding public land managed by the Bureau of Land Management, often staying in one place for a week or more. The key was checking reviews from other travelers to make sure their 40-foot bus could access the site.

“If even one person said, ‘We barely made it in our truck,’ we were like, ‘Okay, hard no,’” Gomez said.

One of their best moments came during a two-week stay on a river near the Hoh Rainforest in Washington. “That was the moment where everything clicked,” Elena said. “We were completely off-grid, no hookups, no neighbors — just us, the bus and nature. And everything worked.”

Unlike van-lifers who constantly move, Elena and Gomez prefer to slow down. With a bus this size, relocating is a production. “You’re securing everything, leveling the bus, checking systems,” Gomez explained. “Doing that every day would’ve been exhausting.”

Staying in one place helped the bus feel like more than a vehicle — it started to feel like home.

“When you’re in one place for a while, you start cooking real meals, unpacking, settling into routines,” Elena said. “That’s when it stopped feeling like a project and started feeling like our life.”

Four and a half years after first chasing the dream, they’re finally living it.

“There were so many moments where we thought, ‘This is never going to happen,’” Gomez said. “So being out there, fully self-sufficient, was like proof that we didn’t waste all those years.”

This Couple Built a Fully Off-Grid Home Inside a School Bus — and Now They’re Inspiring Millions

Colorado has officially completed construction on the nation’s largest wildlife overpass, giving elk, pronghorn, and other animals a safer way to cross Interstate 25 in Douglas County.

The new 200-foot-wide structure — known as the Greenland Wildlife Overpass — spans six lanes of highway between the towns of Larkspur and Monument. It’s the final piece in an 18-mile wildlife crossing system that’s been under development for nearly a decade.

“Wildlife now can kind of go on a little bit of an adventure that they weren’t able to before,” said Kara Van Hoose with Colorado Parks and Wildlife.

The overpass reconnects nearly 40,000 acres of fragmented habitat on both sides of I-25. It’s designed to accommodate a wide variety of species, although it primarily targets large mammals like elk and pronghorn, which are especially vulnerable to traffic collisions.

Because animals can’t read signs, the overpass relies on an open line of sight and natural landscaping to help guide wildlife across safely. “Unfortunately, wildlife can’t read,” Van Hoose said. “So it’s not like we could put signs up saying, this is safe here, go here.”

The structure is part of a larger network that includes underpasses and miles of fencing meant to funnel animals toward safe crossings. The full system is expected to reduce wildlife-vehicle crashes in the area by up to 90 percent.

“The I-25 Greenland Wildlife Overpass is critical to the safety of both wildlife and motorists,” said Colorado Department of Transportation (CDOT) Executive Director Shoshana Lew. “The overpass is an essential component of the wildlife crossing system in this area.”

Construction on the overpass began earlier this year and cost $15 million. The project was primarily funded by a federal grant, with additional support from state and local agencies and several nonprofit conservation groups.

Colorado is one of several Western states investing in wildlife crossings as a way to reduce accidents, protect animal populations, and restore habitat connectivity disrupted by roads and development.

With the overpass now complete, wildlife advocates and transportation officials are optimistic that both animals and drivers will benefit — and that other regions will follow suit.

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