Pakki'pistsi Otsitsi'tsspi 2026, day 20 or so

I paid a visit to my phenology site this morning. Both I and the ravine are still in a more contemplative mood. I went barefoot in my flip flops, but instead of walking the creek, I felt drawn to a dry sandy area a short ways north of the northern boundary of where I usually visit.

The ravine was very quiet - no bird song, only a few distant crows and red-breasted nuthatches. Very few insects were around either; almost no mosquitos. More blooms had closed, only a few showy aster and prickly lettuce-like asters, so few pollinators to visit them. The many sheet webs, appearing in layers throughout the midstory and understory of the forest accentuate the feeling of hush. The creek was moving slowly, and looking downstream from the bridge over the creek the entire surface showed a reflection of the skies and trees above ... the ripples resulting from the flow of water over the rocks on the creek bed were enough to make the reflection vibrate and shimmer, like the trembling of aspen leaves, though the current in the air above was not enough to make the actual aspen leaves tremble.

It is good to visit this place, and feel the companionship and the presence of the many sources of life ... waters, stones, trees, sunlight, spiderwebs, gathered together in ways that are rare to find. Much Gratitude.