Episode 337 (Last Episode!): Why Phenology?

Listen to this episode here!

Transcript 6/22/24:

Every once-living body—be it a tree, deer, or a frond of kelp—will be recycled at a molecular level and give rise to new life. In this way, we are all as immortal as the ever-expanding universe even if our individuality will be lost to the muckiness of time. These words too, scrawled at times swiftly and at other times ponderously in the ink of photons, broadcast across the airwaves, and through the vacuum of space will dissipate. How will you recycle these words and these observations about our earthbound seasons? Welcome to the final episode of The Nature of Phenology where we share the cycles and seasons of the outdoors. I’m your host, Hazel Stark.

The summer solstice has come and gone, marking the moment in the year where daylight hours begin to shorten once again. Despite this decrease of daily sunshine, there is a lag in the resulting warmth we receive as it takes the land and waters awhile to heat up from that extra solar radiation. This is why the longest day of the year is not the warmest; it simply marks the start of Maine’s most fleeting season: summer. The short-lived nature of the warmest season necessitates a busy time, not only for the humans with season-aligned jobs, but also for the plants that need as much sunshine as possible to ready themselves for another dark winter and the animals that need to reproduce and eat enough to ensure the success of the next generation before hunkering down or heading out in late fall. Unfortunately for so many of us, that busy season of the seemingly endless need to be productive increasingly spans the year. Opportunities for rest and restoration seem even more fleeting than summer. So in an effort to bring more seasonal sanity to our lives, this is the last episode of The Nature of Phenology—but before we go, let’s revisit the joys and importance of phenology that we hopefully highlighted these past 7 ½ years.

Observing and tracking seasonal changes, first and foremost, brings us the joy of anticipation of what’s next. But tracking the signs of the seasons also allows nature to teach us a thing or two so we can live more fulfilling lives. Following the return of the sun in late December, we can revel in noticing the tracks of active animals in the snow and irruptions of winter bird visitors like finches. These winter markers of the season remind us how to adapt to the coldest, toughest times. Then the sap begins to flow, turkey vultures return to help with spring cleaning, birds begin to sing, woodcocks dance in the sky at dusk, amphibians migrate to vernal pools, and alewives charge upstream. These spring events remind us to take advantage of opportunities for rebirth—to shed the challenges of yesterday in favor of a more joyful, gratitude-filled tomorrow.

Then the blackflies and mosquitoes arrive, nighthawks and dragonflies snatch them out of the air, hot pink spikes of fireweed bloom, and blackberries and blueberries become ripe for the picking. The chaos of summer, punctuated by predator and prey interactions, productivity, and pollination, remind us that sometimes you can have a little too much of a good thing and perhaps a vacation is in order.

And lastly, fall arrives with the honking of Canada geese flocking together, cranberries ripening in wet places, and chlorophyll breaking down to reveal a hidden world of color before we’re left with a grayscale world punctuated with evergreens. Fall reminds us that all good things come to an end, but new good things arise later.

In addition to bringing us the joy of learning from new natural wonders throughout the year, spending just 20 minutes outside reduces our levels of cortisol (the stress hormone), heart rate, blood pressure, and boosts our mental health. But phenology is not simply a selfish pursuit. Seasonal patterns have been tracked by people forever, especially to know when to plant, harvest, hunt, fish, or forage food.  Spiritual ceremonies and rituals have long been tied to phenology—paying attention to nature’s patterns is in our DNA.

As the climate warms, it’s more important than ever to track the changes in the world around us. A warming climate affects each species a little differently, so while it may be relatively simple for your backyard flowers to bloom a little earlier, it’s not as simple for their pollinators to speed up their life cycles and be ready to pollinate at the right time. This phenological mismatch will increasingly affect our food sources, and more broadly, how all species are able to thrive in their environments.

But the good news is that your backyard phenological observations matter and can be submitted to scientists studying these patterns so that we all may learn to better adapt in our changing world. Simple projects and data submission resources are easily available through the USA National Phenology Network and BudBurst, to name just a couple. If there’s something you’re passionate about tracking, whether that’s the arrival of migrating birds, the presence of native ladybugs, or even the flowering of your lilacs, you can easily look up a resource where you can submit your observations.

So even though weekly episodes of The Nature of Phenology are over, I challenge you to set a time at least weekly to replace this five minutes with capturing your own nature observations. It matters and it’s good for your health!

Thanks for listening to The Nature of Phenology on WERU-FM, as a podcaster, or even reading the transcripts alongside photos every week since January 2018. We produced 338 episodes in total that you can still access and easily search by topic at thenatureofphenology.wordpress.com, which is also linked at archives.weru.org. See you outside.

References:

Phenology. (2021). Budburst.org. https://budburst.org/phenology#:~:text=Why%20is%20Phenology%20Important%3F

Why phenology? | USA National Phenology Network. (n.d.). http://Www.usanpn.org. Retrieved May 16, 2024, from https://www.usanpn.org/about/phenology