The December foliage here is relatively similar to that described in my post from early November, with the Northern White Cedars along the thrust fault still acting as the most prominent source of green remaining, and the American Beech I’ve documented with each visit having lost all of its leaves. Beyond the “beach” of fragmented shale and heading towards the exit trail, traces of leaf litter increase, reminding us of the vibrant colors that once painted the trees for my mid-October post. In comparison to November, however, this “reminder” is beginning to fade, indicating that decomposition has started to make its mark on the landscape.
Animal Presence
As far as animals are concerned, their presence is greatly minimized within this “beachy” area compared to traces exhibited in the woody landscape that lines the trails leading to the shoreline. In all of my trips to Rock Point since early October, the most common “animal sightings” have been families bringing their dogs with them for a swim in the lake or an afternoon hike. I know that many of my classmates remark about the birdcalls they are able to listen for and identify at their phenology spots in Centennial Woods, for instance, but if there are birds to be heard here along the water, the crashing of the lake into the rocks silences them. Just yesterday, however, my friends and I heard a loud, prolonged howl come from the woods just past the old Military Academy clearing during our journey to our phenology spots. Luckily, hearing this howl never turned into a “sighting” experience.
What aspects of your phenology place do you enjoy the most?
Although I find my attachment to my “sit spot” at Rock Point growing with each time I visit the area, yesterday’s experience was arguably my favorite yet. When we arrived just before 4:00 PM and I saw the golden hues beaming back at us as we turned the corner of the trail, I knew I was in for something special. The sky was a brilliant gradient of blue to orange, and the sun hung just above the mountains, giving us enough time to take pictures for our blog posts, and then some for sipping hot chocolate from a thermos as we watched the sun gradually fall. There was something so surreal about seeing the last ray of sun disappear behind the ridgeline of the mountains right before my eyes…about taking the time to sit and just “be” while the sun said its goodbyes to daylight. The perfect, unobscured view of the lake and mountains from the shoreline’s tallest rocks had always been my favorite part of my phenology spot and what I most looked forward to during my walks to Rock Point along the bike path, but having experienced such a beautiful sunset from my own “sit spot” may have cemented this adoration even further if it’s possible. I couldn’t have imagined a more perfect end to my first semester here at the University of Vermont.
The Sunset
