Phenology Blog

I’ve grown quite fond of my phenology site over the past few months. I’ve become more connected with a small part of the land around UVM campus, a place that I can go to just be. Watching it change over the seasonal transitions from late summer to fall to winter has been very rewarding. There are scarcely any leaves left on the trees now. Only the occasional hemlock and white pine still carry some semblance of the green of summer. Most of the leaves have been decomposed or are undergoing the process. The low temperatures have hardened the soft ground around the rocky outcrop so no tracks are visible.

I’m very thankful to have found a spot so close to campus where I can feel connected to the land as a part of it rather than just existing on it. I’ll make a point of coming back during the middle of the winter to see if some sections of the river freeze over. Maybe I’ll try my hand at ice fishing?

Traveling back home for Thanksgiving break I chose one of my old stomping grounds in high school, acorn hill. This spot is very special to me because it was the place where my friend group and I used to camp at during the summer. There is an old stone chimney that is all that is left of an old cabin that used to be up on the hill which burned down a few decades ago. I went back up there with some friends over break and camped overnight and made a fire in the chimney.

The phenology of Acorn Hill is actually quite similar to my spot at Salmon Hole in Winooski. There are numerous tall grasses and shrubs, including buckthorn and occasionally milkweed during the summer. Because of this, I’ve seen a few monarch butterflies while camping. There are many more oak trees at the top of Acorn Hill than at Salmon Hole, but both sites share populations of American beech and sugar maple. As a gift, my friends and I spent time doing a little trail work on the way up to the camping site and back the next morning. We moved fallen sticks and larger branches off of the trail that blocked or obstructed it.

It’s very quiet at Salmon Hole today. It’s nice to be able to put on a jacket and enjoy the crisp and fresh fall air. The smell of the water adds to the freshness. I don’t hear any birds singing, only the occasional car passing by on the road up the hill from my spot. Almost every day since I arrived on campus has been windy, or at the least slightly breezy but everything was perfectly still. The scene looked as if it were frozen in time, the static only broken by the slight rippling of the water down the rapids and the sound of traffic above me. Before I left, I went down to the water and swirled a couple fingers in the water. It was frigid, and the shock of the cold water heightened my senses. Perhaps a polar plunge is in order before I leave for winter break.

Salmon Hole has undergone much change since I saw it last. Most of the trees had transformed into their last vibrant display of color before withering and preparing for the cold winter months. A few red maple and white oak trees still held on to what leaves they could. Even the small shrubs have lost their leaves, and the milkweed is now gone. Everything is dull, quiet, and grey, silently beginning their long vigil though the winter.