I'm back! It's been a while since I've posted. The fast-paced, stressful nature of my Grade 12 year in full IB has not been very conducive to daily walks; even less to taking time to reflect on them. I've been going on walks every once in a while though, mostly to clear my head, get some fresh air, and listen to some good music. I've taken quite few photos, too, so I can look back and reflect on the beauty of nature (photos coming up).
Last time I posted was in July. The pond has changed a lot since then. First and foremost, remember those wild multiflora rose bushes? At the end of August there were practically attacked by weed wackers (and I wouldn't be surprised of some sort of weedkiller was used as well, considering the state of what was left behind). Along with any other weeds or wildflowers that made themselves at home on either side of the walking trail. I was so sad to see it: they may have been invasive, but they were so beautiful. See the comparison below.
This destruction was made increasingly disappointing considering how happy all the bugs and pollinators were with the overgrowth at the beginning of August. They seemed to be absolutely thriving amongst all the tall foliage and flowers, and when I went back at the end of August, there was a noticeable lack of insects anywhere around the trail, and I felt an asbence of the sort of childlike wonder and fascination with which I walked the same segment of trail less than a month before. I couldn't help but feel that an ecosystem had been eliminated for the sake of aesthetics, considering the invasive species were only really eliminated on either side of the walkway.
Oh well, it doesn't matter much now anyway since fall has arrived and the pond has taken on a different environment entirely. Fall came upon us so fast this year, it seems. In what felt like just a week the leaves on the trees were suddenly bright red, orange, and yellow. The buzzing insects were disappearing, the leaves were falling, the bright green summer plants were being exchanged for brambles, berries, and brown foliage, and a chill had entered the air. By the end of October, fall seemed to be nearing its end, making its exit just as quickly as it made its entrance. Fallen orange evergreen needles made a blanket along the pathway and under trees, berries began popping in the branches, and the leaves off the trees were collecting in large piles on the ground, browning, crunching, and beginning their decomposition process.
Fall is probably my favourite season. It's crisp and refreshing; cozy and comforting. It's so curious to watch nature adapt to a new season, transforming completely to encompass a new phase of the year. What's particularly interesting is watching the speed at which it adapts, particularly this year. Fall felt rushed this year, as if nature couldn't keep up with the quick drop in temparature and change of weather. Some trees still bore happy green leaves while others had already lost half and they were decomposing on the ground. This juxtaposition has been strange, and the pace of change rather unsettling. It has made me aware of one of the more nuanced effects of climate change. Seasons in this part of the world are supposed to fade gently into one another, allowing nature time to transition from one state of being to the next in a consistent cycle. Over the years, the balance of that cycle seems to have diminished: it stays warmer longer, and the weather and temperature diminish extremely quickly. Already, barely halfway through November, it feels as if fall is ending, and abruptly at that. Just a few days ago we had our first snowfall - but when did fall end and winter begin? Furthermore, when did summer end and fall begin?
At this point I feel like I'm catching up myself - but maybe that's just because I've been so busy I've only noticed the blunt changes, rather than the gradual ones. I feel our world needs to move slower...
- W
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