Exit Slip: Sharing My Sit Spot and rope making experiences

 My reflections from the sit spot:

I feel the sharp prick of the needles on my hands

I smell the sweet sticky syrup running down the side of the trees and it reminds me of Christmas morning

I hear the rustling of leaves by my friends in the distance and it reminds me of playing in the creek near my house as a child.

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1InUvbwkpjr8QTphO5qBXIL4D3YolWIE2/view?usp=sharing

I taste the moist autumn air, which contrasts with the dry panting after a run in the heat that characterized my summer not too long ago. There is a constant change, an unstoppable yet inevitable cycle as seasons fade into one another. In many ways the seasons are an example of a constant and predictable change.

I see the rows of tall green trees that remind me of the trips my family takes to the tree farm each Christmas. Many of the trees around me turn orange, red, or yellow these ones will stay green long into the winter. I remember the snap, crackle and pop these leaves would make when a branch with a few left on was thrown into the fires my friends and family would gather around while camping.

One thing that surprised me from the rope activity was the strength of the rope. I tried with both Marlaina and Mike and we tugged on the sides of cornhusk rope but could not break it.

Additionally, I connected with these patterns on the leaves... Are they eggs? Seeds? Who knows?