It’s often said that you never step into the same river twice because the water is always moving – changing. I believe the same is true of a trail. While the path itself rarely shifts – save for a washout or a fallen tree – the experience is never static. What changes are the conditions: the shifting light, the cooling air, and the life vibrating along the edges.
If you spend enough time outside, you notice the subtle choreography of the year. Plants cycle through their seasons; bird songs and insect hums rise and fall in a predictable rhythm. Even the mammals participate – the spotted fawns of spring eventually become the antlered bucks of autumn.
When you begin to pay attention to these reliable cycles, you are engaging in phenology: the study of cyclic natural phenomena in relation to climate and life. Simply put, phenology is being present enough to know when the wildflowers will bloom, when the elk will begin their rut, or how a specific hatch will change your day on the river.
Since 2020, millions have returned to the outdoors, sparking a digital “bandwagon” of apps and social media groups. While I’m cautious about the downsides of social media, I find beauty in the way people are now sharing photos of unidentified birds and bugs. Technology has filled a vacuum, allowing us to identify everything from rocks to clouds with a tap of a screen. I think this is a good thing, though I personally hold off on certain apps to avoid the trap of “collecting” rather than experiencing.
To me, mindfulness is more than a buzzword; it is being engaged in the current moment, present in your environment with purpose. My vision is to explore the slice of life where phenology and mindfulness overlap—that sweet spot in the Venn diagram where the season, the biological community, and the act of observing meet.
I’ve held many jobs, but I have always found time to find myself in nature. I can enjoy short exposures to the “blistering” extremes of heat and cold because I know they won’t last; there is a unique value in standing in whatever nature throws at us.
Whether it’s tracking the changing species as they appear, watching young foxes cavort, or straining to see the skeins of migrating swans and geese, I enjoy watching these cycles – the moon as it move through its stations or seeing the first wildflowers push through rocky soil as winter fades.
Phenology is what drives me to get outside. I hope it does the same for you.
Learn more about phenology on the web at the National Phenology Network or Aldo Leopold Foundation.
In the depths of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.
Albert Camus
