site sits

For the first time I just dug into the ground with my fists, my weight. I rolled in the cold, moist leaves. Struck by the rattling sound above me, beckoning me to stay.

This is a magical place where I suddenly remember everything I was supposed to do. This place is where I go for rejuvenation, reflection, and solace. This place makes me want to go places, try new things and meet people.This place is amazing because it makes me smile and gives me hope and shows me that there is so much more to life and I forget how empty I felt before when I'm here. This place reminds me that I have no obligation to be the same person I was 5 minutes ago. 

this is a retroactive post of thoughts from my site sit (emailed to anne on march 24th)

- morris woods was my first instinct/choice when I originally wanted to pick a spot on campus. at the time i turned it down due to the cold and ended up near park instead (which is more familiar and protected from wind) but now i'm willing to just deal with it in order to get that fresh air away from the buildings i spend so many hours in.
- my sense of cold is so different from when i'm in california... 50 or 60 degrees here seems WARM but at home that would have me piling on the sweaters. this isnt' a new realization but it still fascinates me.

A Refelction on My Site Sit Experience

I do not know why I found it increasingly difficult to return to my site sit each week. I could blame it on the weather or timing or other inconveniences that came up throughout the semester, but I’m not sure I should. Maybe it’s as simple as this: I got bored. I got distracted and lazy, and maybe I should have tried harder…or may I should have changed my site. This is something that never seriously occurred to me until it was only an afterthought. I did not even want to consider changing my site because I didn’t want to give up on myself and my connection that I thought I had and wanted to continue to explore with this place. In short, I’m not sure that my weeks of “being” in this environment and posting about it did the place justice.

Saying Goodbye to My Site

This place is waking up now. The breeze laughs coolly. The trees stretch their limbs.

This place, now, is rustling… is restless… is riled… is ready

This place is worn now. The field’s shoulders are sunken. The core’s left soppy by lazy rainfall.

This place, now, even still, is rustling… is restless… is riled… is ready.

This place says a sleepy good morning now. I say a tired goodbye.

As I am a very visual person and most of my site sits (plus my usual interactions with nature) are very sight-based, I decided to sit outside at night in the dark (on the Batten porch because still a little jittery from the recent robbery in Batten, I don't want to walk down in the woods by myself at night...silly feeling, but temporary) and focus on all my senses besides sight. To make things more interesting, I was taking notes and writing things I observed down in a notebook as I sat, but because it was so dark I couldn't see what I was writing the entire time, thus my notes are a little messy and extra wild. So, here are my observations as written in my notes:

dog barking in the distance

creek babbles

cold air fills my nostrils

car wooshes past

It really is amazing how much clearer things become in the darkness.

Detail is lost, but the presence of things becomes much more apparent.

The lines and figures and spacing. No room for the distraction of lights, details, pretty colors. Just shades of gray and black. Illuminated by the two-toned sky. 

Dark blue in the southern sky. Lavender-Pink in the northern.

The labyrinth changes from a circular path to a horizontal form of hopscotch.

The satellite has a stronger presence. Protruding out.

The trees around the labyrinth. Almost like a shower curtain. Curtain of leaves. 

There's also a swing. Twig attached tied on a rope attached to a branch of a white thick tree. I never noticed.

12           four bees swarming

345         puffy dead leaves remain on the forest floor, decaying

6-12       running down a little slope, tripping

13-15     don't want to step on the little yellow flowers

16-20     I stepped on some flowers

21-26     step over a fallen branch

27-32     birkenstocks were not the right shoe choice

33-38     sunny spot, rays on my neck, feels good

39-45     SO MANY BEES. Why are people so afraid of bees? They mind their own business.

46-53     remember when this slope in front of me was all ice and treacherous?

54-59     now that everything's green, there's not a clear path

60-68     should have brought a sweater with me

Dear Trees,
Thank you for swaying. 

Dear Grass,
Thank you for re-growing.

Dear Geese,
Thank you for leaving.

Dear Sky,
Thank you for being ever-changing.

Dear Clouds,
Thank you for appearing.

Dear Balcony,
Thank you for exisiting.