Teralene “Terry” Foxx was a friend, an artist, a scientist, a storyteller, a pastor, an author, a wife and mother, a quilter, a gardener, a dedicated PEEC volunteer and board member, and an advocate for trail accessibility. She met life with joy and curiosity and her enthusiasm was contagious as she taught through her art, her storytelling, her science, and by example in living her life with strength and grace. Her eyes shone with a welcoming kindness, a spark of curiosity in the world around her, a zest for life; they showed joy, compassion, a deep, abiding appreciation for the quiet workings of nature, and the will to share those things with anyone.

Terry was a research biologist, a coauthor of books and field guides, a storyteller, a journalist, and a teacher who believed observation is the foundation and key to both art and science. “Terry was a mentor and friend to me,” Leslie Hanson said. “She hired me in 1996 to work with her in LANL’s Ecology Group on the Threatened and Endangered Species Habitat Management Plan. I don’t know what Terry thought her greatest accomplishment was as a LANL biologist, but she led the Habitat Management Plan effort that direct the Laboratory’s protection efforts for federally listed species to this day.” 

When we think of Terry Foxx, we are drawn by her passion for the beauty of the natural world, from the smallest detail of the hairs on a leaf to the intricate workings of an ecosystem. She delighted in discovering little things like the structure of a fern frond or the petal arrangement on a flower that allowed it to attract a special pollinator, as well as in the bigger picture like in the post-fire recovery of the ponderosa pine forest. Her meticulous drawings of plants were her way of discovering the magic of botanical structures and marveling in the details.

She was a born teacher and she constantly sought new ways to share her knowledge. Many Los Alamos nature lovers learned about local plants from the classes she taught with her dear friend Dorothy Hoard. Then, they started writing books.

“When I came to Los Alamos in 1975, I was mystified by the landscape, from the high mountains to the tiny flowers,” Becky Shankland remembered. “But Terry Foxx and Dorothy Hoard wrote a book about our local flowers—from the littlest blue forget-me-not to the giant yellow sunflower. Terry recognized me as a slow learner for flowers but a fast editor for books, so I got to learn the flowers as I edited.”

Natalie Steinberg has a similar memory: “I first met Terry as a newcomer to Los Alamos. I had just moved here and read about a wildflower walk, so I signed up for it. It was led by Terry and Dorothy. That was my first exposure to New Mexican native plants. Both women later became good friends and inspirations into the love of native plants. Later as I was managing the native plant garden at the nature center, Terry would take flowers or stems from some of the plants and put them under the big microscope inside. That helped her get the exact detail for the beautiful illustrations in her books. She was a marvelous teacher and a dear friend.”

Terry could also teach by making a quilt. Several of us treasure the quilts she made for us, each with many squares, each with the print of a local animal or flower, sometimes with an accompanying quotation. Two favorites are “Roadrunner—Keep Chasing Your Goals” and “Beavers—Build On Your Dreams.”

She was incredibly resilient. From Sue Watts: “When eye surgery forced her to lie prone for long hours, she turned that stillness into creation. From that difficult season came quilts—conceived, designed, and sewn (how?) while she stared at the floor. She gave me one centered on the canyons, mesas, mountains and skies (PEEC’s mission) of the Pajarito Plateau, stitched into cloth. She had slyly added a single smooth white bead for White Rock ‘because it’s always ignored.’”

Terry held the mind of a scientist and the heart of an artist and clearly saw how they both were founded on observation. She wove the two together with increasing purpose, especially when it came to wildfires. Through her work on post-fire recovery began following the La Mesa Fire in 1977, she had seen how relentlessly a forest recovers from fire. After the Cerro Grande fire in 2000, she used this knowledge to help people in Los Alamos heal from their loss of the landscape they loved, and to give hope that even a forest burned to black sticks would begin to heal immediately and would return in time.

Beyond the forest, “Everyone had a story,” Terry once said. “Telling it was part of the healing.” Science could explain what burned and why, but the story—stories carried the heart back into the landscape. “Science is the head,” she said, “story is the heart.” Aware of the upheaval, she illustrated a children’s book that her daughter had written about forest recovery after a fire. One day, she took a despairing, nonmobile friend to the edge of the burn and pointed out the green shoots rising from aspen roots, providing her friend with concrete proof that the woods would recover.

Terry loved children and found ways to connect them with nature, encouraging others to do the same. After writing the children’s book with her daughter, Alison, Terry encouraged Selvi Viswanathan to spend time with her grandson in her yard and write a book about his connection with nature. Terry offered to help, and Selvi did follow Terry’s advice and spent much time with her grandson, but she never wrote the book.

A born storyteller, Terry wove tales for all kinds of audiences. Michele Altherr remembers a time “in the years before drought and fires changed the landscape. It was a gorgeous day where tall Ponderosa pines stood widely spaced and the grass was a lush, vibrant green. Terry sat in the shade in a red folding chair, the sweeping view of the caldera as her backdrop. Encircled by more than twenty wide-eyed children, she held their undivided attention, weaving tales of coyotes, elk, lizards, and hawks directly into the hearts of her listeners. In that moment, blending her artist’s eye with a child’s heart, I witnessed Terry in her perfect storytelling element.”

When her legs could no longer carry her easily, she roamed the internet looking for models of accessibility information. Then, with her faithful husband, Jim, she explored Los Alamos trails with her trusty Rollator, Foxxy, evaluating them in terms of ease of use. Her notes are preserved in the Discoverability section of PEEC’S website. Her report on the “accessible” sidewalk along State Route 4 to the NM Department of Transportation led to the department revising their plan to address her concerns.

Kindness, curiosity, gentleness—these were the currents that ran through her. Her hands translated the beauty her eyes saw into quilts, illustrations, puppets, poetry, and scientific insight. Near the end of her life, was content if she had inspired even one person to trust themselves and to connect with the world around them. Right to the end she helped us learn to love this beautiful part of the world.

Terry’s mind, heart, and soul were filled with boundless beauty and everlasting hope. We miss her.

Teralene “Terry” Stevens Foxx, 86, passed away peacefully, surrounded by her family, on Monday, January 5, 2026 and is remembered with great warmth at the Pajarito Environmental Education Center. We are grateful for all her contributions in making PEEC what it is today.

A memorial service will be held at White Rock United Methodist Church on February 14, 2026 at 1:00 pm.