Day 1
January 20
11:30pm
Tonight is my first night in the Harvard Forest. The van ride here was much more enjoyable than I would have expected. Everyone seems friendly and excited to learn new skills. The sun was setting as we rode along in the Harvard Forest van. It was interesting to see how the landscape transformed from city to forest. It’s so quiet here.
We took a tour of the diorama museum and worked in groups to piece together the history of the landscape. I learned how to tell the difference between hemlock, white pine, oak, and beech.
I’m very hopeful that tomorrow will be a good day. We will be going on an excursion into the forest with David Foster. I have no background in ecology, but I am hopeful that by the end of the day I will have learned some new skills!
Day 2
January 21
5:24pm
I have so much to say about today, but first I need to warm my hands!
Later…
I can hardly believe how much we did today! In total, we spent over six hours in the forest hiking, taking photographs, exploring alone and in groups, and listening to interesting lectures and stories from David Foster.
We began the day by making ourselves breakfast in the farmhouse kitchen. I hope that the photographs that I took capture just how charming this house is. It is very spacious on the inside, but not so much that it seems cold. Every room is filled with laughter and excited energy.
I really didn’t know what to expect when we set off into the forest. David Foster explained how human activity has affected the different species of trees that flourish. I was surprised by how many stone walls we encountered, remnants of an era in which most of the land was used for farming. I took over 300 photographs.
Here are a few highlights from a very busy day:
The windchill was a greater foe then I anticipated. I ended up wrapping my scarf around my face for the last part of the hike. I wore 3 pairs of socks.
We walked across a frozen lake, slipping our way toward a large patch of waist-high brush. It was almost surreal, the stillness of the land compared to our dynamic group. I tasted wild cranberries, cold and tangy.
We extracted sediment cores from deep underground. It was an exhausting process. I was so impressed by the courage of my peers who took Professor Foster’s advice and tested the consistency of the dirt with their teeth! Despite the cold, mud, and some technical difficulties with our tools, we successfully stored enough samples to analyze in the lab later this week.
Day 3
January 22
8:58am
I feel so well-rested. Perhaps it’s because it is so peaceful out here. The air smells fresher than in Cambridge.
I wanted to take some time to reflect on yesterday’s excursion.
The forest is much louder than the city, but also much quieter.
The sounds of all of our feet crunching through the snow at times seemed deafening. The contrast of the silent forest and our loud voices was so different from the constant hum, buzz, and creak or the city.
Out my bedroom window I see trees, probably oaks, some pine, and at least one short bushy hemlock. The snow reflects the morning light. When we hike, all of our faces are illuminated by that light, even in the hemlock forest which is relatively darker than other patches of land.
There is something magical about being in the woods. Walking across that frozen lake with people who after two days I already consider to be my friends, I noticed that the landscape was so much more complex than I previously had understood. Simultaneously so still and so dynamic. Peaceful and a little intimidating.
Yesterday was cold. I can’t remember ever feeling that cold, even though I grew up playing in the snow of southeastern Massachusetts.
Later…
We listened to a fascinating lecture given by David A. Orwig about invasive species in which we learned about the Hemlock Wooly Adelgid. I was surprised to learn that there are so many of them on the nearby trees. I found it interesting to hear how the Arnold Arboretum dealt with their spread. Hopefully sometime this year I can make a trip there to see for myself.
We also listened to a lecture on changing levels of carbon in the wildlife by J. William Munger.
Day 4
January 23
8:50am
Today is the day I have been most excited and nervous about, the writing workshop.
10:27am
We are going to be looking at the sediment cores that we extracted in a few minutes. It is so peaceful here, sitting with my friends in the seminar room filled with yellow light. I’m wearing four pairs of socks. I have never been surrounded by people like this before. Everyone is so genuinely interested in the concepts that we have been studying, the aesthetics, the writing. I love the way the bare branches of the oak trees look against the bright blue sky. I want to capture the textures of the setting in my photography.
12:56pm
We are sitting at the lunch table reading poems aloud to one another. I’m going to read “Come In’ by Robert Frost, my favorite poet. We are about to begin our creative writing seminar now. I don’t feel so nervous anymore.
Historical Photo #15
Trees close but not too close. Limbs stretching, bare bones pale and sharp. The man is standing with hands together holding a thought. Steps are muffled by pine needles but snaps of dry branches underfoot are sharp and clear, filling spaces between bark and white sky.
The forest is thinking. The man is listening, hoping to catch a fragment of a song, whisper, or question from the trees.
The forest is hard and relentless. The light is warm against it.
Object Map
Winter makes wood and cement soft and changeable. The skycolor drains into the pale ice of the lake. The house is closer than I thought. White sides and simple dark green trim visible through swaying brown branches. The stones are strengthened by its weight. The rush of the damn is constant. My boat is someplace farther still. Silhouettes against the snow and grayness. The house loves summer but the winter embraces it.
Free Writing
Small hands pressed creases into crackling brown paper. We used large sheets of it to make books that we could take with us into our wilderness. There were rolls upon rolls o fit piled in the metal filing cabinet in the office. My father used it to mask off cars before he painted them. We never brought much on our excursions. Only a ball point pen and our newly made books.
We made our way through the dusty shop filled with cars. The curves of gray metal, sanded by my father’s hands. The smell of dust and concrete and paint. When the air compressor started up, the sound echoes and grew, a sudden rumbling that devoured conversations.
The industrial park thrived in the summer heat. Ants crawled through the white gravel. Our sandals made crunching sounds as we journeyed through the bricks and metal and piles of rust covered beams. Vehicles rolled past, shiny in the afternoon sunlight.
Our wilderness was a shirt climb away from the rest of the industrial park. We would perform a complex dance to maneuver around the branches of trees that reached to embrace the boulders. And suddenly our feet sank into dark damp soil. Small puffs of moss spotted the stones. The ceiling shifted, a layer of translucent green leaves that fluttered and whooshed when the wind came by. Part of a bumper jutted up like a tree. The air smelled of dirt. There were birds who knew of our wilderness. They landed on branches but never stayed. Childhood innocence told us that this place was ours. The light was green and yellow.
Our wilderness was modest. The expanse of green laid itself out only if you sought it out. An island in an ocean of gravel and metal. The trees clung to it with New England stubbornness. We sometimes ran between them, bumping into red and blue dragonflies. We drew them in our brown paper books, recording the details as best we could. Pages covered with observations, stories, and jokes. Sunsets came upon our wilderness quickly. The birds would warn us by singing and flying overhead, tiny black silhouettes against a still sky.
The sun was low when we returned to the shop, just in time to see a newly painted car sitting in the garage door. In the smooth metal, the reflection of our wilderness, the stones and scratchy green branches, like the car envied the forest.
12:25am
I spent the night laughing and playing games with friends. The writer’s workshop was so helpful. I can’t wait to edit my first draft using their feedback.
Day 5
January 24
8:40am
Today is Art Day. I can hear some cars on the road near our farmhouse. We are not going outside much today because it is too cold. It’s hard to believe that we have less than 2 days left in this place. I really hope that we stay in touch after we leave.
9:05pm
An amazing day of drawing and taking pictures. After spending an hour drawing a single branch of a fern, I have a better sense of the complexity of the plant. I really enjoyed going out on my own and taking pictures. There is so much to see in the forest. We are just trying to capture a small part of it.
Day 6
January 25
We spent today discussing the topic which I had the least background in: urban planning.
By the end of the day we had walked along the sides of roads, explored Petersham and several other nearby towns, and gained a deeper understanding of the ways that human development impacts the environment.
I think that we are all going to really miss this place. I hope that my photographs can convey a sense of how much we all enjoyed this experience. I’m leaving the forest with new skills and the inspiration to begin a new term at Harvard. I’m so grateful that I was able to have this experience and will probably spent the next year recommending the program to all of my friends.
January 20
11:30pm
Tonight is my first night in the Harvard Forest. The van ride here was much more enjoyable than I would have expected. Everyone seems friendly and excited to learn new skills. The sun was setting as we rode along in the Harvard Forest van. It was interesting to see how the landscape transformed from city to forest. It’s so quiet here.
We took a tour of the diorama museum and worked in groups to piece together the history of the landscape. I learned how to tell the difference between hemlock, white pine, oak, and beech.
I’m very hopeful that tomorrow will be a good day. We will be going on an excursion into the forest with David Foster. I have no background in ecology, but I am hopeful that by the end of the day I will have learned some new skills!
Day 2
January 21
5:24pm
I have so much to say about today, but first I need to warm my hands!
Later…
I can hardly believe how much we did today! In total, we spent over six hours in the forest hiking, taking photographs, exploring alone and in groups, and listening to interesting lectures and stories from David Foster.
We began the day by making ourselves breakfast in the farmhouse kitchen. I hope that the photographs that I took capture just how charming this house is. It is very spacious on the inside, but not so much that it seems cold. Every room is filled with laughter and excited energy.
I really didn’t know what to expect when we set off into the forest. David Foster explained how human activity has affected the different species of trees that flourish. I was surprised by how many stone walls we encountered, remnants of an era in which most of the land was used for farming. I took over 300 photographs.
Here are a few highlights from a very busy day:
The windchill was a greater foe then I anticipated. I ended up wrapping my scarf around my face for the last part of the hike. I wore 3 pairs of socks.
We walked across a frozen lake, slipping our way toward a large patch of waist-high brush. It was almost surreal, the stillness of the land compared to our dynamic group. I tasted wild cranberries, cold and tangy.
We extracted sediment cores from deep underground. It was an exhausting process. I was so impressed by the courage of my peers who took Professor Foster’s advice and tested the consistency of the dirt with their teeth! Despite the cold, mud, and some technical difficulties with our tools, we successfully stored enough samples to analyze in the lab later this week.
Day 3
January 22
8:58am
I feel so well-rested. Perhaps it’s because it is so peaceful out here. The air smells fresher than in Cambridge.
I wanted to take some time to reflect on yesterday’s excursion.
The forest is much louder than the city, but also much quieter.
The sounds of all of our feet crunching through the snow at times seemed deafening. The contrast of the silent forest and our loud voices was so different from the constant hum, buzz, and creak or the city.
Out my bedroom window I see trees, probably oaks, some pine, and at least one short bushy hemlock. The snow reflects the morning light. When we hike, all of our faces are illuminated by that light, even in the hemlock forest which is relatively darker than other patches of land.
There is something magical about being in the woods. Walking across that frozen lake with people who after two days I already consider to be my friends, I noticed that the landscape was so much more complex than I previously had understood. Simultaneously so still and so dynamic. Peaceful and a little intimidating.
Yesterday was cold. I can’t remember ever feeling that cold, even though I grew up playing in the snow of southeastern Massachusetts.
Later…
We listened to a fascinating lecture given by David A. Orwig about invasive species in which we learned about the Hemlock Wooly Adelgid. I was surprised to learn that there are so many of them on the nearby trees. I found it interesting to hear how the Arnold Arboretum dealt with their spread. Hopefully sometime this year I can make a trip there to see for myself.
We also listened to a lecture on changing levels of carbon in the wildlife by J. William Munger.
Day 4
January 23
8:50am
Today is the day I have been most excited and nervous about, the writing workshop.
10:27am
We are going to be looking at the sediment cores that we extracted in a few minutes. It is so peaceful here, sitting with my friends in the seminar room filled with yellow light. I’m wearing four pairs of socks. I have never been surrounded by people like this before. Everyone is so genuinely interested in the concepts that we have been studying, the aesthetics, the writing. I love the way the bare branches of the oak trees look against the bright blue sky. I want to capture the textures of the setting in my photography.
12:56pm
We are sitting at the lunch table reading poems aloud to one another. I’m going to read “Come In’ by Robert Frost, my favorite poet. We are about to begin our creative writing seminar now. I don’t feel so nervous anymore.
Historical Photo #15
Trees close but not too close. Limbs stretching, bare bones pale and sharp. The man is standing with hands together holding a thought. Steps are muffled by pine needles but snaps of dry branches underfoot are sharp and clear, filling spaces between bark and white sky.
The forest is thinking. The man is listening, hoping to catch a fragment of a song, whisper, or question from the trees.
The forest is hard and relentless. The light is warm against it.
Object Map
Winter makes wood and cement soft and changeable. The skycolor drains into the pale ice of the lake. The house is closer than I thought. White sides and simple dark green trim visible through swaying brown branches. The stones are strengthened by its weight. The rush of the damn is constant. My boat is someplace farther still. Silhouettes against the snow and grayness. The house loves summer but the winter embraces it.
Free Writing
Small hands pressed creases into crackling brown paper. We used large sheets of it to make books that we could take with us into our wilderness. There were rolls upon rolls o fit piled in the metal filing cabinet in the office. My father used it to mask off cars before he painted them. We never brought much on our excursions. Only a ball point pen and our newly made books.
We made our way through the dusty shop filled with cars. The curves of gray metal, sanded by my father’s hands. The smell of dust and concrete and paint. When the air compressor started up, the sound echoes and grew, a sudden rumbling that devoured conversations.
The industrial park thrived in the summer heat. Ants crawled through the white gravel. Our sandals made crunching sounds as we journeyed through the bricks and metal and piles of rust covered beams. Vehicles rolled past, shiny in the afternoon sunlight.
Our wilderness was a shirt climb away from the rest of the industrial park. We would perform a complex dance to maneuver around the branches of trees that reached to embrace the boulders. And suddenly our feet sank into dark damp soil. Small puffs of moss spotted the stones. The ceiling shifted, a layer of translucent green leaves that fluttered and whooshed when the wind came by. Part of a bumper jutted up like a tree. The air smelled of dirt. There were birds who knew of our wilderness. They landed on branches but never stayed. Childhood innocence told us that this place was ours. The light was green and yellow.
Our wilderness was modest. The expanse of green laid itself out only if you sought it out. An island in an ocean of gravel and metal. The trees clung to it with New England stubbornness. We sometimes ran between them, bumping into red and blue dragonflies. We drew them in our brown paper books, recording the details as best we could. Pages covered with observations, stories, and jokes. Sunsets came upon our wilderness quickly. The birds would warn us by singing and flying overhead, tiny black silhouettes against a still sky.
The sun was low when we returned to the shop, just in time to see a newly painted car sitting in the garage door. In the smooth metal, the reflection of our wilderness, the stones and scratchy green branches, like the car envied the forest.
12:25am
I spent the night laughing and playing games with friends. The writer’s workshop was so helpful. I can’t wait to edit my first draft using their feedback.
Day 5
January 24
8:40am
Today is Art Day. I can hear some cars on the road near our farmhouse. We are not going outside much today because it is too cold. It’s hard to believe that we have less than 2 days left in this place. I really hope that we stay in touch after we leave.
9:05pm
An amazing day of drawing and taking pictures. After spending an hour drawing a single branch of a fern, I have a better sense of the complexity of the plant. I really enjoyed going out on my own and taking pictures. There is so much to see in the forest. We are just trying to capture a small part of it.
Day 6
January 25
We spent today discussing the topic which I had the least background in: urban planning.
By the end of the day we had walked along the sides of roads, explored Petersham and several other nearby towns, and gained a deeper understanding of the ways that human development impacts the environment.
I think that we are all going to really miss this place. I hope that my photographs can convey a sense of how much we all enjoyed this experience. I’m leaving the forest with new skills and the inspiration to begin a new term at Harvard. I’m so grateful that I was able to have this experience and will probably spent the next year recommending the program to all of my friends.