Crisp air stings my face every time the wind picks up the snow drifts. The snow from the previous storm crunches each time my foot falls. After a month, I have returned to my phenology spot in Centennial woods. The surroundings are much different from the last time I visited. Snow covers the ground creating a subnivean underworld that disappears with each step of my foot. The small deciduous trees have buds sprouting from their branches.
As I trek deeper into my sit spot a gust of wind passes over the area. The Eastern White Pines creek in the wind providing a spooky ambience to the area. All around me I see tracks of all shapes and sizes. As I trudge trough the snow to leave, I think back to the first time I visited and the huge changes since the fall.