Final Fall Semester Phenology Blog Post
β§βΛπ²β© βΛπͺΆββΊββ As I visit my location one last time my very first semester of college, I look upon my spot with a newfound appreciation. While the only foliage seen is the very few Sugar Maple leaves hanging onto their last breath, with majority of leaves littering the ground and the coniferous Eastern Hemlock standing tall, there is still beauty in the bare bones and bark of nature.
I took both of these photos as I entered and exited my spot for the last time, and even though the luscious blues from the early fall are now gone, seeing the darker hues of browns and greens dot the blue-gray sky is still such a beautiful sight to see.
Something I noticed when first arriving – apart from the contrast of color and foliage – was the uprooting of (assumed) invasive species. It seemed as if someone had come and uprooted one of the invasive common buckthorn trees, but in doing so they left the uprooted tree on the ferns, harshly crushing a large amount of the ferns I have come to love over the semester. This saddened me, because even if the uprooting of a species is for the best, seeing the ferns who were still growing and thriving into the winter flattened ended up flattening my soul. There was also a new fallen tree in my phenology blog, which likely fell from the high amount of strong winds we have received this semester. While I would originally be sad at the prospect of a fallen tree, through the semester i’ve learned all of the good they can do for the ecosystem; and now I just hope that whomever inhabits that fallen lumber is able to benefit from it during the long winter.
Animal Activity – which is the occasional bird passerby – has lessened significantly as the semester has gone on. However, I did see a bundle of small black & white birds on my way to my phenology spot, but not at the spot. It was incredibly muddy today, likely due to the melting ice from the sudden temperature increase, so I was not able to spot anything in the ground apart from the footprints scattered across the mud from visitors long before me. Even though the “livelihood” of Centennial is seeming to lessen as we deepen into winter, it makes me think of a quote I read the other day to appreciate the change of seasons as well as the general duality of life. The quote was from The Little Prince (2015) and reads as: “But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence.” This quote struck me when I first stumbled upon it, and it deeply presented the idea of duality to me in such a breathtaking way. Knowing that to have change, is to accept the risks of this change, whether it be personally or phonologically is necessary in the ever-changing Earth we inhabit. As I close for the semester, I do not want my words to read as a goodbye to this place (as I will likely be returning next semester) but more of a “see you soon” and a “I cannot wait to see what you become in our absence”. ΛΛΛ β‘ ΛΛΛ
