Nature Note: A Naturalist's Travels Through Nature

Sycamore in the Stony Brook I feel like every once in a while you can appreciate nature in small doses. Nature has become big and that's not just because it's marketing team got better (we can thank National Geographic for that certainly). People wanting to "experience" the great outdoors, buying organic food, life listing rare and unusual species, hunting locavores (as in locavores hunting for wild food, not Ted Nugent's third favorite thing to shoot from a helicopter), and many other grandiose and specific things. Taking a sip While it certainly feels amazing knowing just how maple sap rises due to temperature fluctuations or why amphibians can breathe through their skin, taking time to appreciate a moment of pure presence can impress upon someone all the more. Take for example Monarch butterflies ( Danaus plexippus ). You see them gliding along passageways of tarmac and concrete, flapping furiously along roadsides looking to refuel not at Micky D

A flutter of wings caught my attention as I left Wegman's this morning. A Monarch butterfly ( Danaus plexippus ) flapping furiously in a southwesterly direction skimmed past my peripheral and into the bright morning sky. So small and under appreciated, yet this butterfly is simply doing what tradition has commanded it to do for thousands of years. What I've been missing the past few weeks has been an opportunity to escape the city to see the wild spread out and away like in a forest or a marsh. This is a silly idea of course, as nature doesn't simply exist solely "out there", but all around us. As one tuned into the natural world, I cannot help but notice the constant changes the world experiences day by day and season by season. With the autumn equinox having passed midweek and the prospect of leaves emblazoned against the branches that once funneled nutrients back and forth between sky and root, one can see clearly that change has arrived. As I've com