February 2nd, 2017

It’s a new year on Lone Rock Point! After almost two months without a visit, I was excited to return and see what had changed.

All week however, the bitter cold and heaps of old, unattractive snow urged me to delay my visit. As I walked to my morning classes Thursday, the cold gusts of air found their way through my layers and I began to dread the prospects of spending my afternoon outside.

Once I started the journey down and managed to get some blood flowing, the day began to feel much more pleasant. It was my first time visiting my place in the afternoon so I felt a bit more time pressured than usual but thoroughly enjoyed the sunny day views of the setting sun on the lake.

As I neared my site I was struck by how much more attentive I felt to observing and analyzing what was happening around me. I later realized that on this trip in particular I spent much of my time looking at the ground hoping to build on my newly acquired tracking skills. For a while this was disappointing. The snow was several days old at this point and the ground was a jumbled mess of dog and human prints. 

Walking across the beach to the point I came across one pair of tracks that showed a clear bounder pattern. The paw pattern of the animal was impossible to make out, frozen over by ice and covered in a thin blanket of snow. I suspect the tracks were made by a mink as they were found very close to the lake and match the stride and straddle of minks.

On the walk back, I stopped to glance at some buds in a nearby tree and looking down noticed some deviation in the jumble of human and dog tracks. I followed what looked looked like gray squirrel tracks through the underbrush for a short time until I finally lost them in some scraggly bushes. It was clear that the animal was a galloper and the two back feet were landing right behind the front feet as the animal moved. Tracks that went under small logs and ended at tree trunks confirmed my suspicion that they were gray squirrel tracks. By this time, my phone had died so I was unable to take a picture yet they looked nearly identical to the tracks I had seen on my last trip in early December.

Bird noises drew my attention away from the snowy underbrush.Thrush and duck sounds were very persistent. I also heard the sound of pileated woodpeckers on several occasions yet whenever I tried to look for them the crunching of my boots in the dry snow warned them away. The bare winter trees however showed their markings on dead snags more clearly than they had on previous trips. Many of the markings were much smaller than the ones I had noticed in the past showing species diversification. Woodpeckers certainly have a tremendous presence on the point.

My final glimpse of wildlife came on the walk back across the beach. There was what looked like a dead catfish lapping against the shore. It’s tail was barely intact and it appeared to have been chewed on by a larger fish or bird. It was exciting to finally see a creature that lives under the lake at my phenology spot.

When I wasn’t looking for wildlife I was pouring over the twig identification guide in an attempt to recognize the bare trees on my site. Paper birch could be identified by simply looking at the bark of trees and American beech had a very unique, long thin bud that was easily recognizable. Some of the trees I had already identified when they had their leaves like the common buckthorn found at the end of the point. Many twigs were difficult to identify and I picked up several that I found on the ground to bring home and analyze in a warmer environment.

Of those that I collected, sugar maple and northern red oak were very easy to identify. There was one that looked like an ash but it had alternate lateral buds so I believe it is a white oak. Another twig looked very similar to the common buckthorn twig but it had more alternate lateral buds and was missing a pointed terminal bud so I think it might belong to a glossy buckthorn. Finally, there was one that matched nothing on my identification sheet so I did some further research and think it could be a hickory twig but I am still very uncertain.

Distinctly long American beech buds.

Penologically, my site appeared different than it had in early December. As a whole, the forest seemed much more weary, with more debris from fallen limbs and sticks littering the ground. The clean, fresh snow that covered everything on my last trip was replaced by melting, weathered snow and the woods appeared a bit more scrappy.

When I reached my favorite spot on the end of the point, I sat and observed for a long time. The waves seemed to be rhythmically carrying golden rays of sunlight closer and closer to shore and the battering sound of the waves along the rocks was gentle and soothing. Everything slowed down and the political climate that I has been troubling me so much lately faded from my concerns. There is really something magical about being alone in nature. For me it encapsulates whole and true contentedness.

(Original Photographs Copyright Colby Bosley-Smith, 2017)

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