MRS Day 5

2014-05-29 11.34.09-1 2014-05-29 11.31.14-1 Well, the week is over. Here are a couple pages from the book that I altered into a scrapbook. When the week began, I was set on utilizing the idea of geocaching. I included a found log that you could write your name onto if you find this book hidden among the others in the MRS library. I also included numerous whimsy writings of my experience in the book.

Here's the collection of those:

There's a story to be told here. Beyond the research, beyond the vacational stays, beyond the student groups. A history that is only whispered between the trees. An event only witnessed by the birds. Why am I here? Why are you reading this? To uncover the intimate and the mystical moments left untold.

I met a jay this morning, I asked him to sing me a tune, He graciously replied. Tell me what you've seen I begged, Then he whistled a note and fleeted away.

I climbed the trail to a peak, I scoured the land for our camp, And I found I was lost, An eagle flew to a nearby rock, "Follow me" he whispered.

The snow in my hair began to melt as I wandered the woods, I stopped in a meadow and caught my breath, I was startled by a loud sigh, He was standing behind me taking in the mountain air and view.

I wandered through the cabins, curious as to what I might find, A striped tail brushed my boot, "Come inside" he said, I stomped the snow off at the threshold, We shivered in the dark until I lit my light, I found an old forgotten pair of jeans with holes on every side, Lace someone's grandmother was saving and her unfinished embroidery.

"What do you want with that old junk" he pondered, "They are treasures" I replied, "No" he said "These are treasures!" I glanced across the room to his little pile of old beer cans and caps, Pieces of a broken mirror, "Oh" I mumbled.

Walking through the forest, I found a patch of dead brown trees, Solemnly, I hiked through the grave, Why why oh why, At the edge of life and death, I saw a little black dot, a foe to the trees, the cause of destruction.

On a midnight excursion, I walked into a puddle, Looking down I realized it wasn't a puddle at all, It was a babbling brook, The gossip of the forest, "It's your fault" she cried, Throwing a worn stick and a lumberjack's tree core at me.

"You know she's right," A deep voice loomed overhead, I glanced up taking in the height of my addresser, "You killed my brothers and sisters in this meadow."

"For their bodies, For that book."

"Take this bark in remembrance of me."

I started to run, Only stopping to see the flowers.

Thanking them for the clean air, And the beauty on the path.

They are a blessing, They are a gift, A pleasant surprise.

A reason for the journey, A cause for the walk.

I stumbled and fell into a thorny bush, I heard a discernible grunt, Pellets left by rabbits crunched beneath my knees, I peeled back some branches to see a bear picking berries, I stole one as a momento of a shared lunch with the queen.

As I packed my ride, An owl hooted for my attention, "Yes?" I asked, He dropped two feathers out of his beak, "For your collection." He explained, "Oh" I was startled by the act of generosity, I stuck them in and placed this book at his talons, "Here, for yours."

MRS 4

So, I committed to using the book I brought along. I plan to make a field guide/scrapbook reminiscent of the ones that classes used to make when they finished their stay here. I also want to utilize a poetic writing style to tell stories of some of the adventures that I have had getting to know this site. Lastly, I want to include a secret storage section in the back of the book to house all the treasures that I have collected hiking around the camp and scouring through the cabins.2014-05-29 11.34.49-1

MRS Day 3

Today, I really started researching more about the leisure activities that occurred here. As our group begins to bond over communal dinners and nightly lectures, I can't help but wonder what it would have been like to do a field study course when this first started. I found this picture of Professor Ramaley's field school. I think I'll pass on the hat and the fashion as a whole. Ramaley Tolland

I also found this poem written by a student in their scrapbook.

Here's to the class of '25 -- And the profs who wisely led us -- To Hutch who always brought good cheer -- And the Smiths who nobly fed us.

I brought along a book with me titled "Teachings from the American Earth." Maybe I can use that somehow.

MRS Day 2

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Today we hiked up to Elk Meadow, it was the first time many of us experienced snowshoeing, which made the trip pretty comical. Thinking about our work, many of us are inspired by the spectacular view and the organic shapes of the snow. However, the stories that our friend and guide, Kelly, told were more inspiring to me. The research and the experiences shared here are the most compelling because they reference the origin of the site and its purpose.