*I was unfortunately unable to add pictures of my focal points due to an error with the website. I will go back and add those pictures in an edit, or try to put them in the comments.

12:30 pm, 9/18/2020, slight breeze from the west.

A photo of my sit-spot My notebook sketch of my sit spot, with the cardinal directions marked.

When I heard that we were choosing sit spots, Beale Garden immediately sprang to my mind. Since my arrival at Hollins, Beale has been a sanctuary for me. I have spent many hours in quiet reflection there, watching the leaves of the trees tremble with the breeze and listening to the hum of cicadas. The relative seclusion, low human traffic and large amounts of plant life are the reasons why I love it so much- coincidentally, they are also what makes Beale Garden ideal for nature observation.

When I arrived at my sit spot, I was struck with the apparent stillness of the scene around me: other than a slight breeze moving through the flowers and trees, the whole garden appeared to be frozen in time. Even the creek, which I expected to be high and loud from the recent rainstorm, was strangely silent. However, when I tuned in to the space around me, I discovered that underneath this stillness was constant motion. Little brown spiders and little black ants scouted the leaves beneath my feet. Other ants, with dark red bodies and little black behinds, investigated my chair and my bag with great interest. The soft yet insistent hum of cicadas filled the space with sound, and bumblebees lazily traveled between small orange flowers. Even the clouds above me seemed to move across the sky with a quiet persistence.

Somewhere in the background, a bird I had never heard before sang a song that sounded like, “tikka-loora tikka-loora tikka.” It was a pleasant sound, and as I wondered what it was saying I thought of the strangeness of our ability to find beauty in something we don’t understand, when the unknown is often our greatest fear. Then the moment passed, and I was lost in the heavy perfume of the flowers before me.

I was puzzled by the leaves on the ground. Around the tree that gave me shade, and around every other tree in front of me, was a thick blanket of pine needles interwoven with bent sticks and broad leaves. However, wherever I looked, I could not see any pine trees. Where did the needles come from? Why are they predominantly on the dirt around the trees, and much less on the grass around them? If someone put them there, what purpose do they serve? Part of me hopes that there’s some obscure answer to uncover, but it’s unfortunately more likely that I misidentified a pine tree. I know of an app that identifies plants- I’ll have to take that over to Beale and find out what kinds of trees are around my spot. All of the trees I saw had broad leaves, though. Is there a species of pine that only has needles some of the time? That wouldn’t make much sense.

Overall, my first experience in my sit spot was a tranquil one. I noticed movement and life that I had never previously given myself space to notice, even though this is my third year at Hollins. In doing so, I found myself mentally resetting, and going into the rest of my day with an increased sense of peace.

I would like to follow three things during my time at this sit spot: the tree across the creek with a ribbon, the ants, and the composition of the ground.

Across the creek, directly north of where I was sitting, was a large tree. Its long, slender branches elegantly curved toward the sky, its heart-shaped leaves mingling with the branches of its neighbors. On the branch stretching toward me, someone had tied a pretty red and yellow ribbon, with small green marks along the border between the colors. It had three or four trunks, with some leaves green and flourishing while others hung brown and dead. I wonder how long this tree will stay green before winter comes. Watching it will help me to mark the passing of the seasons.

My second focal point will be the composition of the ground, especially the presence of the pine needles. Where did the needles come from? How will the ground change during winter? There was grass to the east of me; I wonder if the ants will move there when winter comes, if the pine needles disappear and they choose not to hibernate.

Two different kinds of ants appeared to dominate the ground: black ants, and red ants with little black behinds. The black ones seemed to stay on the ground under the pine needles, but the red ones were much more adventurous, confidently climbing up onto my chair and my bag. I wonder if this means that they have fewer predators than their black ant cousins. Other than their color, both species of ant appeared to be the same. I would like to track their presence on the ground around me, to see which ant appears more, and to see if they stay through the winter. I was able to get a picture of the red and black ants, but unfortunately the black ones eluded me when I went to take my photos. I wonder if they recognize each other as separate species, and what they think of as they explore the jungle of pine needles around them.