Aerial Map of my Sit Spot

February 23, 2010

This past week I had been putting off visiting my sit spot in hopes that some snow would fall and offer me a more exact idea of what travels through the clearing in my sit spot... my advice for life: don't let the weather forecast get your hopes up, invariably it will be wrong. Anyway, I finally got there today, and as I began my walk, lo and behold, giant almost painfully large snowflakes began to fall from the sky. Just my luck I guess. I quickly mapped out my area because my sketchbook wasn't responding well to the wet fluffiness that fell upon its pages. It was eerily quiet today, my squirrel friends were not around peering at me, so I assume they were off someplace looking for some food, but who knows, maybe I just didn't stay still long enough for them to find me.

Here's a scan of my map, if you click on it you can see the whole thing (formatting this was a huge hassle):

February 16, 2010

February 16, 2010

Today, by my personal standards, was an almost balmy day. My nose and ears were not turned burning red and my fingers did not begin to feel stiff, although the slight wind that has begun to pick up carries an arctic chill with it. It has been overcast all day today, with the threat of snow both in the clouds and in my barometrically tuned knees. I sat on my stump, staring up into the trees for a while, hoping to see more than the family of squirrels who I shared company with last week, but, sadly, not much action was going on. I witnessed the occasional chickadee, picking at the needles and flying away in dissatisfaction, and I felt the judging glances of the squirrels who continued to peer at me from above. The sounds I heard were mostly crows, “caw”ing their greetings and taunts, mingling in an olfactory setting with the chickadee chirps and some sparrows (I think they were sparrows, but don’t hold me to that just yet). There was a lot of rustling happening in the pines today, as the squirrels moved a little faster than last week – maybe it’s because of the relative warmth of today. There are no tracks that I can witness, although I am sure that the pine needles that carpet the floor of the Redstone woods have felt many a footstep upon them today. In coming weeks, I think I may begin to see more birds, but larger wildlife (aside from humans) is questionable based on my location. Maybe a raccoon or possum will wind its way through, on a winter adventure gone awry through some misdirection, or maybe I will continue to startle unsuspecting students. Right now I think I will focus on the birds, and wait to see what kinds of migrations begin or end here.

February 9, 2010

February 9, 2010

It’s one of those sunny winter days today, the kind of day where the brilliant blue sky and light filtering through the window almost convince me that spring is here. Alas, I come to find that it is cold enough for my fingers to throb in a stiff and cold complaint about my lack of gloves. I am sitting in the woods on Redstone campus, on an old, weathered stump, wondering why there seemed to be so many more trees the last time I was here. . . I am at this particular spot, not purely out of choice, but mostly because of physical limitations. But I do like it here. The stump I am perched upon is located on the edge of a small clearing of sorts, and the sun is angled in such a way that everything has an almost otherworldly glow, and it is conveniently warming my face. The squirrels are nimbly maneuvering through what I can only describe as a playground of conifers and bushes, eyeing me questioningly from a distance. Although this place is close to humanity, all that I hear of it is muffled. Instead of cars, I hear the light crunch of snow beneath my feet, cushioned by a thick layer of moss and pine needles. I hear a bird deeply focused on creating a cacophony of mock agony, and I hear the chatterings of squirrels, along with the slight rustlings of smaller winter birds. This place has a unique separation, a semi-microcosmic feel, that I think I will come to embrace over the course of time. The woods seem weary, and I hope to see their heavy limbs perk up when the ground begins to warm. I need to find my sketchbook, so I can show you small pieces of this place, and so that maybe I will come to confirm in my mind that nature is not just found on a mountain.

http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?hl=en&ie=UTF8&msa=0&msid=102373168139364784694.00047f2fbbf6b798c0b0a&t=h&z=19&iwloc=00047f2fbfa17221d393b