Personal Phenology

At the start of 2025, I had a slightly-used date book from the Field Notes Index quarterly edition (now sold out). I prefer a much larger notebook for keeping track of my schedule, so while I’d made a few halfhearted attempts at using it, I couldn’t get traction. Then I got inspired to use that notebook to help me observe and track the seasons as I experienced them.

The goal was to write down three simple observations about the day, and at the end of the month, type them into a single file. Over time, that computer file would be filled with enough daily entries that I could track my perception of the seasons–especially in relation to climate change–over the long term. I typically recorded the high and low temperatures as a baseline, and whether there was sun, rain, or snow. I also noted whether I observed wildlife or indicated the time of sunrise and sunset. Over time, I tried to pay more attention to the night sky, and occasionally added cultural events and holidays, as those human aspects are a way of tracking the seasons as well. 

While I missed my goal of recording every single day, I still made observations more days than most. In addition, I’ve continued the practice into 2026, and I’m happy to report that I have not yet missed a day in January. The old Index book ran out, so now I’m using one of the notebooks from the Is a River Alive? quarterly edition. I’ve set up a single page for every day, which has usually resulted in me recording more than three observations. More page room means that my mind naturally stays open to finding more to record.

My biggest takeaway from the first year of this project is that a daily walk is vital not just to my phenology practice, but to my writing practice as well. Between last winter’s prolonged cold and last summer’s persistent, record-breaking heat, I walked less in 2025 than I had since . . .  probably 2014. (It doesn’t help that walking is not Maybelle’s favorite activity.) But the days I didn’t walk were the days I was most likely to skip recording anything, and these were days I was most likely to skip writing. I wasn’t expecting that this would be the lesson of the year, but as a result, I’ve tried to get back in the habit of daily walks. (Though this week’s snow storm has really put a damper on that.)

I imagine that in the second year of this project, as I begin to gather build up my observations, I’ll start to have some insights about the seasons in St. Louis. Or maybe I’ll have a different insight altogether. Only time will tell, and I look forward to reporting and reflecting in January 2027.

PS – Today, Juliet Wilson of Crafty Green Poet published a short essay entitled “First Signs of Spring,” which is how I learned that the study of seasons is called phenology. She writes about observing signs of spring appearing worryingly early, and also draws attention to The Woodland Trust in the UK. While their Nature Map doesn’t apply to my area, I enjoyed reviewing it and thinking about how to apply the design to my own work. I encourage you to read Juliet’s piece.