Over the years, the layout of Lafayette’s campus has constantly changed. Widespread development and construction has led to the removal of many trees. I’ve always enjoyed looking at old pictures of an area and seeing how it has changed over time. A few weeks ago, I came across an old book about the history of March Field. As you can see from the attached photo, in the early/mid 1900s, March field used to be a track and athletic field. Surrounding the field was a thick band of trees, many of which might still remain today.

Lafayette College in 1925

March Field, today.

Although I looked at a bunch of trees, I was particularly interested by the large trees that remain intact behind the DKE house. According to Leafsnap, the bright yellow leaves that I found behind the house are Shingle Oaks. Assuming this is correct, this tree is native to the North America and can be found in PA specifically. It would be pretty cool if the leaf I found was from a tree that is likely over 100 years old!

A Shingle Oak, Found behind the DKE House.

I also snapped a video of the leaves shedding in wind, last week.

We hit the trail on a crisp morning and at a brisk pace. The pace was set not only by the desire to warm up and the length of our strides but also by the desire to reach the allusive point named Giant Ledge. How giant could it really be? I had to know. As it turned out, our pace was too brisk, as we stopped several times to allow the others behind us catch up. As we waited, our bodies cooled and thus as the gathered again as a group, we were more than eager to take off again to warm up. It did not take long to reach the ledges but the view was still marvelous. I had not realized the elevation we had gained from our drive in to the mountain and from the burn in our quads. The ledges opened up suddenly to a breath taking view of the valley. Even though it was not a clear day, ridges of mountains far beyond could be seen from our vantage point. I wondered how far we may actually be able to see, perhaps into Connecticut or Massachusetts or Pennsylvania, depending on our orientation. After the thrill of the ledges, we learned that we were to continue onwards towards Panther Mountain. Somebody mused, “I wonder if this is like Fox Hollow, named for something that is no longer here.” I thought that was a good point. The front of the group was raring to go, I among them. I could only imagine what was waiting for us on the mountain, what views and what scene would be laid out before us as we stood on top of the world. We only made it part of the way before we realized that our destination as a group was unrealistic. It may have been possible under different circumstances, but today was not the day.The itch to go just a little bit further had to be put out of mind, as we turned around and headed back down the path we had ascended earlier in the day. Should I get the opportunity again, I will make sure to reach the peak and quench my thirst for the feeling of success that comes with summiting yet another mountain.

“Some of the paintings show landscapes full of the tree stumps. The stumps were symbols of progress and points of pride… To let precious land, cleared by backbreaking labor, go untended, unprotected from an invasion of trees, was the opposite of progress” (Sterba 36).

This passage was a very interesting insight to some general thoughts of people from the past. Now in a conservationist mentality, I was surprised to think of the labor that went into removing the forest and the pride that people must have felt for being able to do that.

“Sometimes the forest isn’t what it seems to be. All sorts of outdoor entrepreneurs offered forays into the “wilderness” beginning in the 1980s…This wasn’t bad. It was just deceptive- the equivalent of restaurants that offer “wild” game that was farm raised because, as we shall see, it is illegal in the United States to sell real wild game” (Sterba 42-43).

I enjoy this comparison. It gives a new spin on the idea of how wilderness as most Americans choose to experience it, isn’t really what we would define as true wilderness.

“There was only a narrow slit between their lids, by which eyes, looking out from the land of dreams, and endeavoring to realize me, vague object or mote that interrupted his visions” (Thoreau 289).

I don’t think that Thoreau is saying anything particularly important here, I was simply impressed by the construction of this sentence.

This morning I went on a nature walk with my best friend Kannie (Kristina). We like to go walk the KSAT whenever we are feeling stressed out or are avoiding our homework. Even nature that is close to campus can provide a much needed escape from school.

6:12 AM: Alarm goes off, eat my cheerios, regret signing up for this class and going to bed a little too late the night before.

6:59: Fall asleep on Tessa.

10:37: Arrival, cold.

10:38: Start hiking, too many layers on, hot.

10:48: See cute puppy, lots of cute puppies, and lots of people attached to them.

11:05: Elevation getting steeper, regretting my many layers and running out of places to fit them into my backpack.

11:31: nearing the top, can feel it getting colder and elevation getting less steep, less vegetation, more rocky and trees have fewer leaves still attached to them.

11:37: Arrival at vista, very beautiful overlook. Cold again because we aren’t moving

I think people very easily forget why we hike and do things in the outdoors. Yesterday, Professor Smith talked about how we constantly have to explain why we do the things we do and why they have value. The class seemed to be rather stumped by this question, mostly because he was preaching to the choir. I know when I looked out over that edge, besides being completely freaked out of people falling off of it, I didn’t appreciate it simply because it was beautiful. I appreciate nature and scenes like it because it reminds me of how small I am compared to the world around me.

This idea of being small reminds us to be conscious of the impact we have on the world. By thinking small, we minimize our footprint, be careful not to take more than you need from the world around us. Sometimes we are so obsessed with reaching the peak of the social ladder, that we forget what it takes to get there. The impact we are making on our community and the people in our lives, as well the resources around us. It’s important to take a step back and appreciate, take time to minimize your impact on the world and make sure you are always working towards the greater good.

12:01: I am very hungry; eat my food, really cold now.

12:15: Finally we keep moving, got to keep the blood flowing

1:12: We turn around, conscious of the time we do not reach the top. Instead we have a teaching moment and students are able to reflect on the journey.

1:20: back down, slippery back down because of the leaves, much more cautious.

2:16: sites look familiar, walking back down we pass some people who are just starting up which seems to be rather late in the day.

2:37: Arrive back at vans, ready for a nap, cold again.

3:12: promise of food, spirit rises after an exhaustive experience.

4:02: FOOD

4:48: Back on the road, heading back to school, fall asleep on Tessa.

Aaron and I had a lot of fun walking around campus to identify trees.

Our first tree was out in the back of the library. We were unable to detect what tree this was from as the app couldn’t tell us much, but we are pretty sure it was the same leaf that Professor Brandes showed us in class, the Eastern Redbud. We noted that on the handout with all of the trees marked out that this Redbud was missing from the list and concluded that it was probably because it was a new tree.

After looking at the Redbud we made a b-line to the famous Japanese Maples behind Colton. Aaron was particularly interested in the trees that were insured on campus. This tree was particularly hard to identify. At first we tried using a single spoke of the leaf with no avail. We realized our mistake and tried using a whole leaf that fell on the ground. However, this leave was red and mangled which also yielded no results. Finally, we picked a leaf off the tree that was flat and green. Then the app was able to identify the type of tree.

Our last tree was outside of Kirby Hall and we are pretty sure it is a Black Locust that we identified by the seeds.

While I did work with a small group for our leaf hunt in class yesterday (which was a lot of fun), I was the only one with an Android phone and not an iPhone. It was a very good thing we all collaborated because my app was frustrating and often gave imprecise or inconclusive results. For a few leaves, we would identify them positively on other phones, but my matches for the same leaf would be entirely different. Although this process was a bit frustrating and confusing with my app, I found myself just appreciating the leaves and the trees they came from more. The varied colors of fall, the smooth or jagged edges, the clear or spotted surfaces, the holes from bugs, and the parasites were all simply fascinating.

And I just attempted to upload the images from the app. But the website gave an error message saying that the files could not be uploaded for security reasons, so they are also in an odd format. The images would have shown 2 leaves that had inconclusive matches that did not align with what we knew about the trees and 2 leaves identified generally as oak and maple.

As I walked around campus looking for leaves to take pictures of, I found myself becoming very interested in the phone app, Leafsnap. At first it was very frustrating, any shadow or lack of light could result in the picture not working. As I became more familiar with the app I started to enjoy it more. After having collected a few species I decided to explore the app even more.

I started looking at my collection when I got back to my house. Before I knew it I was exploring every possible option the phone application gave me. I started to feel a little like a citizen scientist. Sharman Russell’s Diary of a Citizen Scientist soon hit me on a different level. I started to understand the joy Russell received doing the work.

Don’t get me wrong, I realize there is a huge difference in the work Russell was doing. I don’t mean to trivialize her work studying the Western red-bellied tiger beetle by comparing to me analyzing a leaf to discover which type of tree it belonged to. My point is to express how I finally understand the desire to be a citizen scientist as opposed to just being a casual observer. Yesterday’s little self-excursion was extremely enjoyable.