site sits

It called out to me.

Hey there. You look a little tired. Isn't that backpack a little too heavy. Sit. Relax. Breathe.

How? I don't know. 

It looked like a bench, but it felt more like a sturdy hammock. a sturdy hammock with pillows.

SPRING?? More like ~soft winter~

What is that? Why is it so quiet? Is that the buzz of a generator? Is it the buzz of the street lamp? Do the clouds make sounds as they move across the sky? Is that a car door slamming? Where is the car? Why is it so quiet, still. 

That jacket looks familiar. I know her. Joy. I thought she left. She was back. Bye.

My stomach hurts. What did I eat. Was it those stuffed shells? Am I lactose intolerant? I don't think so. Maybe I just have to pee. 

Introduction

The purpose of this observational exercise was to determine the frequency of various types of action observed from a specific location on Bryn Mawr’s campus. The location used was the Sunken Garden during a twenty-five minute block of time on a Thursday afternoon.

Methods and Materials

The action was classified according to walkers and joggers, couples passing, vehicles passing, large gusts of wind, trains, sunbreaks and falling branches. To record these occurrences the observer kept a pen and paper upon which she made two columns and recorded the number of each of these events.

Data

Walkers and Joggers*:  9

Couples†: 3

Vehicles‡: 9

Large gusts of wind§: 6

You opened your mouth to let it in. "Be careful," I told you, "Don't fall." You shrugged and continued climbing. "Watch your step," I told you, "It's wet." You told me to stop pestering. You said that it didn't matter that the rain was cold against your bare back. That you probably could have dressed better for the weather and just because it was warm in the afternoon didn't mean it would stay warm forever. But that it didn't matter. You said you loved the way the rain fell from the sky and hit the ground. And how it reminded you of that one time you flipped a bowl of sunflower seeds onto your lap. You said you love the rain. You said it makes you happy.

tank top and shorts

bare feet

messy wet hair

warm skin

my comfort space

filled with sand

sometimes mud

always close to earth

just feet from the concrete

seeking retreat.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sdRBKcqDwBE&feature=youtu.be
sounds interminable.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=077C5DmOHUM&feature=youtu.be
succor unavailable.
sounding retreat.

The mud from the soft ground added character to my green Nike running shoes as I walked towards a yellow note hanging from a tree branch with my name written on it. I decided to interact with my site differently today by standing under the branches. I excitingly opened the plastic ziplock bag and took out the note. The note read:

"As I walk in the labyrinth - circling, doubling back, looking at where I once was and where I am now, retracing steps and memory, feeling like the raw winter chill seep through my coat gently, like so many cold hands on my skin - I'm reminded of a poem by Ramer Maira Rilke, enclosed here."

The poems left for me were:

Wachsenden Ringen von Rainer Maria Rilke

I went back to my site this evening around sunset, but this time I was not alone - I decided to have my partner come with me to do my site sit and explore the Batten jungle. It was different having someone else there with me, because I've always done my site sits alone. But it was amazing how just having a different set of eyes, she was able to point out things that I've never even noticed or look at the same things I've seen in a different light. She pointed out the color of the bark on the fallen down tree (I have a picture here) - deep red and orange, looking like rich earth or fire. At one point she stopped me and had me come back to look at my footprint in the snow - my footprint had revealed some small budding crocuses, the first signs of spring.