(Photo from Sit Spot #1 on 9/20)

Entered Sit Spot at 6:12pm

Fall is here! Leaf litter of rust, gold, brown, beige, and green colors surround my location. Birds are communicating- seemingly cheerfully- though this may be just my own projection. There’s a rustling to the north west of me, I look in search of a cause and find nothing. The creek runs as if it shall continue on, running that way for stretches of time beyond our narrow comprehension. It runs lazily and sure of itself. Leaf litter is doing a splendid job of damming some of the creek, thus creating a shimmery mosaic of fall colors, but the creek is persistent. There is truly a festive air to the evening. The tale of Fall told here is truly a tale as old as time. There is an omnipresent, overpowering chirp of insects. The hum of a healthy forest, I’d say.

My invertebrate were gnats. Maybe out of desperation or maybe out of obviousness. They seem to fly aimlessly, the gnats, but my AP Environmental Science teacher would always say they’re chasing something. I briefly wonder what I’m chasing. What all of us are chasing… The gnats move with a certain flutter to their flight. Almost joyous. Or another projection. Maybe they’re celebrating the lack of dragonfly, who’d surely make a meal of them. They trace their own steps, going back and forth. It always seems they know something I don’t.

The role of water in any ecosystem is always a pertinent one, whether obvious or hidden. Where water goes, life seems to follow. Don’t you know that’s where life began? The creek not only shapes the land around it, but breathes life into an otherwise unassuming area. I remember watching a possum cross this very creek, when I was accompanying a friend as they participated in their sit spot. This was several weeks ago, but the image lingers. It doesn’t take much to assume this creek a life-sustaining factor, but a habitat in and of itself as well. I think back to my time on the wetland with a dip net in hand. A whole world lies beneath the surface if you are willing to uncover it.

The items I have been following are a tree with a mature poison ivy vine, a tearaway stump filled with leaf litter, and an unassuming orange rock covered in debris. The mature poison ivy vine has become barren since my last visit. Deer and birds must have been grazing the hairy outer. I know of animals eating poison ivy, it simply does not effect them the way it does us. The tree the vine rests on has lost all canopy leaves, only one lower branch remaining leaved. This is surely attributed to the change in seasons as we descend into Fall. My orange rock appears more or less the same, if anything, a bit dirtier. It begs to remind me of myself. Unsightly color and often dirt scraped legs. The tearaway stump remains in place. Still filled with leaf litter, much more so. I imagine her as a nursery for young fish, a safe haven.

To conclude, the passage of time is all to evident and it is so jarringly so. No one thing can bring cessation to the running of water or the coming of fall, I guess. In a world that seems to move so fast, participating in this sit spot did leave me feeling more whole and relaxed. As a frequent nature bather, this isn’t an unexpected happening, but a pleasant one. My time spent in nature always makes me want to run away and never look back. And maybe I will one day, but I’ll be back. There is much to be attended to.

Left Sit Spot at 7:23pm

(Photos From Sit Spot #2 on 10/7)