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Twenty years ago, I picked up a blank book and began tracking seasonal events in our neighborhood. I ve never stopped.
In late winter, I document the first time a sunrise is accompanied by cardinal song and the first afternoon punctuated by a steady drip of meltwater. I await the green haze of new leaves across the landscape in spring, and the flicker of bats feeding on insects at dusk. Summer brings fledgling birds begging at the feeder and muskrats zigzagging through the wetland. Before I know it, the yard is buried in dry leaves. Ice has spread across the lake, and owls are hooting their mating duets from leaf-bare branches.