Week #6

Things Have changed a lot in the two weeks since I last visited my spot in Centennial Woods. While the warm weather then only hinted at spring it now seems to have arrived in earnest. As I walked into the woods I noticed the buds on the box elder saplings at the entrance were soft and looking ready to burst open at any moment. I made my weekly visit in the cool overcast afternoon after a rainy morning. The trees were dark with water and branches dripped on my coat as I tried to walk down the path that was more muddy stream then walkable trail. I will have to find a new way to get to my spot since the meadow I walk through has reveled itself to be marsh saturated with water that seeped into my not-quite waterproof boots. The main stream was roaring and the water level was at least a foot higher than the last time I'd seem it. Only tiny pockets of snow still remain, marking where the deepest shadows must be under the hemlocks on the south side of the stream. As I made my way to my spot another thing that stood out to me was the new vibrancy of colors in the forest, chalky purple raspberry stalks and brilliant green moss stood out clearly from the brown background. When I got to my spot I put my hand on the wet rough bark of the large double trunked white pine I sit beneath and drew my hand away covered in sticky pitch I realized was seeping from a large vertical crack in the tree, I thought it was perhaps a sign of growth but when I got up and looked around more I noted an even deeper crack on the opposite side of the tree that seemed to split the wood almost to the core in some places and oozed pitch, could it be frost damage from warm days and cold nights? I find myself concerned for the health of the tree that I've gotten to know over the past weeks. Focusing my attention on the stream that runs through the ravine I noted that it was almost completely thawed above my spot but below ice still covered the surface in the protected recesses of an oxbow. The water rushing down from above disappeared under this covering of ice as it rushed towards the marsh and eventually the torrent of the main stream. The buds on saplings near my spot didn't seem as tender as those near the entrance where the sun doesn't have to cut through a canopy of pine.

Week #5 (spring break)

My phenology spot this week was different because I was home in Monkton for spring break. Just being in a more rural setting made me feel like I had a greater connection to the changing seasons. The weather was sunny and beautiful for the first half of the week and my driveway and the dirt road I live on both announced the coming of mud season. Before clouds and rain rolled in around thursday I took advantage of the sun and warmth by making a daily hike up Hogback Mountain which lies just across the road. I followed old logging trails observing how the forest changed and trying to read the landscape. In the hollows between the low ridges that run north to south along the mountain the snow was still deep but I could usually walk on top of it without falling through unless I hit a pocket formed by downed branches or the jumbled rocks of a talus slope. On one walk I saw deer signs and remnants of beds, they looked old but the quickly melting snow must have deceived me because over the next ridge I startled several deer who quickly turned up their tails and fled down the treacherous slope faster then I could hope to follow. I could hear birds and occasionally would startle at the sound of snow sloughing off of rocks above me. The rain towards the end of the week kept me inside and melted the remaining ice on my driveway making packing for my return to school easier since I didn't have to park my car at the top. The last thing I did before leaving home was to take what was probably the last sled run of the season with my mom. There was just enough snow left to get a good ride in before hitting the bare grass and abruptly skidding to a stop.

Week #4

It was a warm day today and most of the snow from last week had melted into a layer of grainy ice with mud and slush beneath. From my spot I could hear the stream in full flow and as I walked into the woods a squirrel yelled angrily at me. I could also hear the occasional creak of a branch and people and dogs passing by on the trails but not much else above the roar of jets above. The stream that runs down the ravine where my spot is located remains frozen over but bootprints revealed a layer of wet gray slush below the snow. The ground was cold and moist except in the hollow beneath the large white pine where I sat on the sandy soil. A few ferns and grass were revealed in pockets where the dirty snow had melted around trees. Even though they were sodden and limp they seemed to promise new growth soon. I heard a lot of people out walking their dogs on the trail across the main stream, also lured out by the warm sun. A month ago it would have been starting to get dark now but now the day seems to be stretching into the late afternoon quite that lasts longer and longer through the spring into the summer. The snow tasted like soil and acidic pine and spring.