October 14. 12:00-1:04 P.M.

 

An observation of color: things are turning wonderfully brown, yellow tinted, and warm, contrasted against the blue cloudless sky. The depth of the stream is bedded with a layer of decaying leaves that vary in color, but are subdued and lend to a certain au lait hue, leathery looking. Maples to the north have taken on a vibrant red ombre shift, pastel reds and oranges scatter the tree top. The sycamore above me, curiously, only browns- in my observation, the umbery color splotches and spreads until the leaf is engulfed in brown and them tumbles to the ground where they crunch under my restlessness. Amongst all the browns and yellows, the grass and trees are still green, moss still grows on the base of the sycamore, and I noted a new color on the landscape- a quaint pink. What I thought was a flower from a distance turned out to be a petal-less vine

covered in what looks like seeds that are easily brushed off and squished revealing black insides.

Settling into the environment was less than instantaneous, not because I’m encumbered with obligations or stressors. Nature implores us to be introspective during seasonal changes- and I was distracted by the seeming transience of it all. As I am wont to do, I ascribe permanence to my experiences and forget that as comforting as attachment is in the moment, everything is fleeting and finite, and this mindset juxtaposed with impending Autumn inevitably creates dissonance between my perception and the reality of things. I sat silently with these thoughts in a state of observance for a few moments before allowing myself to focus on the peculiars of my sit spot.

I decided to make the stream a special point of observation at my sit spot- specifically the patterns of currents as they are affected by the buildup of leaf litter. I was pleased to find a significant change in water flow since my visit a week ago. Leaves have started to accumulate especially on either side of the stream, against the dry bed on the more southernly side of the water, and in the arm of the sycamore nearest me. This has created an interesting channel for the water. The stream appears almost still before the funnel and creates a glassy surface that reflects the trees above. There is a small buildup of leaves in the center of this current that divides the stream and aerates the water, making bubbles that I follow for the some length of the stream. There is not a noticeable change in water depth due to leaf buildup yet- I’m not sure if this is something I can expect, and how I could quantify it anyway. I looked for some kind of indicator today and decided upon a rough qualifier- I’ll keep an eye on the distance from the lowest hanging Sycamore branch to the top of the water. Very, very approximate.

Perceptible amounts of animal activity around today. I took more time than usual to note bird sounds, paying attention to the textures and cadences of the calls instead of trying to identify anything. An animal unseen has taken to a pit I saw in the stream at my last visit, breaking into it for goodies perhaps. I was visited by a fly, my chosen invertebrate of observation. It took up temporary residence on my tote bag in the sun. It was a large fly, I noted perhaps the length of a penny. It was blueish and had a slight iridescence. Brown eyes. Very thin. A quick internet search reveals there are too many flies to specify a species beyond ‘flesh fly.’ I wasn’t able to take a photo of my ovoviviparous friend, but our connection was palpable.

Returning to my sit spot time and time again, it becomes a more cohesive and holistic experience. I am more easily able to tune into the specific environment as it no longer feels foreign to me and I don’t find myself overwhelmed by the particulars of my surroundings. Meditating on a single environment is new to me- but is proving to be a gratifying and connecting experience.

 

K