Blueberry Bloom Begins

05/03/2024

Team Blue,

Lo, the moment is upon us.

Having made it through the harsh two weeks of winter with buds intact, having been pre-alerted to the coming of spring by unseasonability, having been well-watered by abundant and consistent rains, the blueberries have begun to bloom.

By my reckoning, this is early. But how early? It sure would be good to know. How early did the honeysuckle leaf out, and when will the walnuts finally show signs of life? When has the first warbler arrived, and when did the bluebird lay its eggs? How quickly has the creek bounced back from fire, and when will the flowers be in bloom? It sure would be good to know.

And so, I propose that we come to know. Introducing, the Phenomenal Club.

Phenology is the study of time and its seasons. But phenology is an awkward word, rooted in phenomenon, the Greek, yet haphazardly truncated and appended with an unfit -ology.

It's not really an -ology, or need not be. An -ology is the domain of experts, those who have invested an unreasonable amount of time in the matter at hand; those who have come to know the fundamentals, the specificities, the theoretical under and overpinnings of the subject, and postulated, discovered, or critiqued them, and, for their trouble, earned their own appendation, of Professor, or Doctor, or PhD.

This does not describe us. But, nonetheless, we can notice. We can pass the honeysuckle bush and note the precise date on which it shows its first leaf. We can assess the proportion of blue in the blueberry. We can hear the song of the yellow warbler, sweet, sweet, sweet, little more sweet.

We, too, have eyes to see and ears to hear. Let's go see and hear!

The Phenomenal Club meets on Sundays, more or less around noon. We pick up our trusty clipboards and, armed with paper and pen, go for a walk. We notice what we notice and we note it.

We're very flexible here at the Phenomenal Club. The walk might be a short one down the path and the farm road, or a fuller loop of the farm. You might join me on my walk at noon, or you might undertake your own studious stroll.

Basically, I'm going to walk the farm on Sundays, and I invite you to do the same.

What will we have by year end? Well, a catalogue of the times and their seasons, of course, an expanding standard upon which to assess the future and the past. And we can't help but have developed a deeper appreciation for the detail of things. And, if we're lucky, we might have deepend or broadened our human connections, through a chance encounter one Sunday in the summer or through the communal process of participatory creation.

So I invite you to join me, to join us, on a Sunday to come.

Here is a signup sheet. You don't have to sign up, but if you do we can coordinate.

Noted,

Twin Crix