I entered my sit spot at 4:15 pm, a thick blanket of leaves crunching under my feet. Sparrows foraged for bugs on the banks of the creek, and I above my head I heard their relatives join the crickets in singing. For the first time since I began my observations, the cicadas were silent- I suppose because their breeding season is over. The trees and shrubs, which were once bursting with color, instead stood skeleton-like above the creek as they began their winter sleep. The creek below was wide awake, its shallow waters babbling cheerfully as it went on its way.

I continued my observations by checking in with my three focus points. The redbud had lost all but its topmost leaves, which were turning yellow and would likely fall soon. Limp, brown leaves still clung to its branches, desperately hanging onto the little life they had left. The leaves that had given up rested comfortably on the ground, alongside pine needles and gumballs that tiny bugs use for a jungle gym. My black ant friends were among them, though they were not nearly as confident as they had been in the past. They took shelter among the gum tree leaves, almost unseen.

Redbud Before

The sky above me was a beautiful baby blue, turning pale and white as the sun began to set in the garden. It remained cloudless and still, with bursts of sparrows headed southwest and a falcon gliding across the sky. The leaves above me trembled as a southwestern breeze brought crisp, cool air to my skin.

Two squirrels chased each other in the treetop over my head. As they scurried toward the ground, the squirrel doing the chasing stopped to notice me watching him. After a moment of terror, when he realized that I was not going to eat him, he watched me curiously from the safety of his tree trunk. We stared at each other for a little while as he slowly inched closer to me, still unsure of my purpose. Then a sound took his attention away, and he disappeared.

For my final ten minutes in my sit spot, I focused my attention on the creek. The easternmost part of the creek looked completely still, but as I moved my eyes to the west, I could see that the current moved swiftly over the pebbly bottom. The thick grass on the banks looked as though it had been flattened, perhaps by a strong wind. Sparrows hopped happily on the sides, and the creek burbled merrily on.

 

I left my sit spot at 5:12 pm, eager to return.