(Arrived at Sit Spot 10/13/19 at 5:30)

At my sit spot alongside the creek to the East of Dana, the sky is taking on an orange hue as it mixes along with the clouds gathered in the atmosphere. It’s peaceful, but very humid. I can feel my sweat from the heat clinging to my body as it refuses to evaporate. From what I can see with the ground, the grass has overgrown, and white gnats circle the sky in lazy groups. There are no longer any flowers except those that grow around an old tree stump to my left. Their pink heads are vibrant against the green and brown, though they have no real petals. The air is very sulfuric, and smells of fish as well from the stream which has grown dark and slow as fall descends. 

There are subtle changes in the terrain since my last visit. The small trees that grew from the old tree stump have started to truly show signs of decay. Their tall thin frames that used to proudly hold themselves up have started to slump, and their leaves have taken on a blue hue on the bottoms as they dry out. It’s sad to think that all their effort was for not. The grass has also subtly changed. It’s taken on a darker hue, but besides that, there’s not much of a change except its overgrown leaves. I’ve also noticed that the saw dust on the neighboring tree stumps are almost gone, having been consumed by the dirt. They do now though have a black mold or moss growing on the tops of them. When touched, it crumbles away like dry dust on a windy day.

Looking past the things I’ve kept an eye on, I’ve noticed how the stream is the main resource in this little ecosystem. It’s a source to drink for living organisms, it transports nutrients in its body, and provides a home for the fish and minnows that rest in it, which are inevitably eaten by birds, crayfish, and other carnivorous predators. If the stream did not exist, a lot of organisms in the area would have no need to be there. The birds would lose a big food source, the deer and other organisms would find their drinking spots gone, and the fish and crayfish would cease to exist in that area.

An organism I observed was a Pond-Skater. It spent the entirety of the five minutes skating around the calm pool that branched off from the flow of the stream. It bounced in no specific direction. Sometimes it would glide in circles, but other times it would glide to the other side of the pond. It glided past other pond skaters, but it paid them no mind. The only acknowledgement a Pond Skater would make with another was to look at one another in order to not bump into each other. Their coloration was also interesting to look at. Their backs were dark brown and covered in mini ridges along the edges of the tops of their exoskeletons, while their bellies were white in color. They were probably colored that way in order to camouflage themselves against the dark dirt beneath the water from overhead predators and blend in with the sky so fish and their prey looking up would be unable to see them. Overall, it was cool to actively see the covalent bonds of the water as it bent at the points where the Pond Skater’s six legs rested against its surface.

As an individual, I’d say my focus at my sit spot has gotten overall worse. I find myself having a hard time focusing on nature when my mind wracks itself on what I have to do for the week. This lack of focus only increases as the workload increases with the progressing semester. I also found myself desiring to check the time, because I get anxious if I don’t know what time it is. Besides that, I had no other desire to be on my phone really except to listen to music while I watched the view.

(Left Sit Spot at 6:30)