When I re-enter my sit spot, the first thing I notice is the dandelions running abound in the garden. Few are in the actual garden beds, but they dot the grass around them. While I noticed the yellowing flowers last week, the dandelions have quickly whitened, and their seeds are being blown across the garden (meaning that they are at the end of their life cycle). It is funny that I only really recognized or marveled at these flowers after observing their distinct changes.

I was curious to learn more about these plants, as I’ve observed them in natural spaces since childhood. Dandelions are a short-lived perennial and can grow anywhere. They can withstand freezing, crowding, high heat, and insufficient moisture — by all accounts, they are weeds (University of Wisconsin Madison: Horticulture). Gardeners and homeowners alike often hasten to pull them out of their grasses or mow them down, as they can quickly swarm a space. Each dandelion carries thousands of seeds, which the wind can densely distribute. But dandelions also function as pollinators — they are more complex components in the ecosystem than we realize. 

My sit spot has provided ample opportunities for observation and research and has also sparked a question: Does accessible research lead to a more interpretive lens rather than a purely observational one? Have my methods of observation evolved over this semester? In “Outside Lies Magic,” John Stilgoe argues that we are meant to observe the landscape, not interpret it. This is a perspective I don’t entirely agree with. Is it enough to simply observe a space, or is there more to be gained from interpreting it? If I simply observed the space and didn’t engage in personal research, how much of my sit spot’s history could I actually understand? 

In previous sit spots, I’ve been curious to understand what this space looked like hundreds or thousands of years ago, and I couldn’t answer these questions through observation alone. My ability to interpret and research allowed me to discover that dandelions originated in the United States with the onset of European colonization (meaning that these flowers have likely been in Grinnell for a long time). The interplay of observation and interpretation, I believe, allows you to connect the best with a space. Observation leads to questions, and questions lead to a different type of engagement that can help fill in the gaps of the past.