Randomly feel like posting

I know I just posted an update a few days ago, so I don't have much new info. I'll try to keep this non-pointless though. I've sort of been wondering what I'm going to do in the fall, after I return home. I would definitely like to go camping (and I really hope that the Yellowstone trip with Liz and whoever else wants to come ends up working), but I also probably need to make some money. I decided to drop out of an SCA position that sounded pretty cool. It was in Colorado doing wetland/riparian restoration and wildlife surveys, but it was another short position and I would basically have to leave like a week after I got back. That's too soon, and I don't need the stress. Plus I want my next SCA position to be a long one (6 months). Not necessarily because I want to spend 6 months in any one place, but the weekly stipend is more and the Americorps education award is higher. And since I can only get two Americorps awards and I've already gotten (am getting, technically) one, I should wait for a financially ideal position to present itself. And if nothing turns up this fall, I could always do something else. Work seasonally somewhere (if that's at all an option) or hope that someone on ECOLOG is looking for a field assistant. In any case, if anyone hears about an cool temporary employment that would interest me, let me know.

This past weekend was the first time that I got REALLY nostalgic and started longing for Denison. I've had brief moments of nostalgia since graduation, but nothing like this. I just kept thinking about it. It wasn't tormenting or unbearably sad or anything, but it was definitely a significant emotional presence. I honestly thought that it would occur sooner than this. It's been almost exactly a month since I graduated (tomorrow will be a month). It sort of seems longer than that. But I don't know. I think I've more or less gotten settled in here. I'm less reserved when I'm at work, but I still wouldn't say I feel completely comfortable here. Though in 3 months, I'm not sure if that will ever happen. But who knows.

I've been thinking about geographic location quite a bit recently. I think it started when someone commented on my first day of work about how people from the midwest often come down here to visit/intern/whatever and then end up moving here. I decided shortly after that that I would almost certainly not be one of those people. It's nice down here, for sure, but I can't see myself settling down here. It just doesn't feel like home. Part of it is the weather. I know that it's sunnier down here, but that also means that it's hot. And there's not enough snow. Honestly, it's possible that I might stay in the midwest, but if I did I would settle down further north, like northern Wisconsin/Minnesota. Though I haven't ever been up there, I like it in theory. Probably some place I should visit. I would also love to go to Canada very soon. I think I just need to go more places and experience them before I decide where I can settle down. But as of now, those are my thoughts. New Hampshire was cool too, when I visited Laurel. Who knows. I guess I probably have many years before I actually have to make a decision about that, and even then it could always change, right?

I want to visit Erin in Oregon.

Mountain Adventures

As per Amanda's request, I am updating my blog. I usually don't have time to do this since my internet time is limited. After my internship I may do what Laurel did and post some of my journal entries.

Anyways, I don't really remember what I posted about last time so I'll just randomly mention a few things.

The log cabin is pretty crowded at this point. There are four girls and five guys living there. There aren't any more beds on the girls side, but since the guys side has bunk beds for some stupid reason, technically three more guys COULD fit. But if even one more guy moves in, I am probably going to move into the back yard with my tent. It's a lot of people for that space.

Last weekend was exciting (though not for me personally), as there were two copperhead bites (there was alcohol involved). One of them was one of my roommates (Noah), who got bit on the ass when he sat on a rock, which crushed the baby copperhead that was sitting under the rock (the copperhead was later found dead from this injury). The other was a dry bite. One of the fisheries guys saw the snake and decided that it had to be relocated, so he drunkenly tried to pin it down with a mop and pick it up. He got bit, and then proceeded to pick it up again and threw it in the woods. The night after these bites occured, I was crouching on the ground at night watching a spider devouring a cranefly after pouncing on it (I had swatted the cranefly, which was attracted to my headlamp, down and the spider took advantage of the opportunity). Suddenly, I noticed a copperhead about a foot and a half away from me and slithering closer. I jumped back and it stopped for a second, and then slowly slithered away from me, stopped again (presumably assessing the situation), and then slithered back into the woods. I guess it was attracted to my headlamp? But in any case, copperheads are usually pretty docile (as was the case in my encounter), so don't let the snake bite story scare you. Just don't mess with venomous snakes when you're drunk. Duh.

Yesterday I went on a really cool hike. We took two cars and parked them on opposite trailheads of the Sugarland Mountain trail and starting at the high elevation (it was 5,700 feet approximately I think?) we hiked 12 miles downhill. There was a lot of stopping to look at plants and I worked on my bird songs. I heard a Scarlet Tanager toward the end of the hike (I'd been specifically trying to see one of these since I started birding) and I tracked down the song and FINALLY SAW ONE. So that was exciting.

We also saw some little chestnut sprouts, as well as one that was taller than me. In case you are unfamiliar with the current chestnut situation, the chestnut blight pretty much killed all of the chestnuts in the 1930's I believe (plus or minus a few decades). The blight is a fungus, which doesn't kill the roots, so the still-living roots will sometimes send up sprouts. The sprouts die when they reach a certain hight. It's so weird actually seeing these trees, which were so impressive during their time. The Smokies used to be dominated by chestnuts. Seeing the sprouts is like seeing ghosts, or like the blight is playing some cruel joke. Knowing the history and then seeing the sprouts was kind of an emotional experience for me. These sprouts are doomed, and there is no way that I can ever see a towering chestnut.

Anyways, I hope that was enough to satisfy you Amanda (and anyone else who reads this). More entries will follow, but I'm not sure when exactly.