Michael's Blog

There was nothing magical about the day ahead of me.   I was tasked with “an honest day’s work” alongside my girlfriend’s dad on their family property. Our morning began at 6:00 A.M. with a cup of black coffee on the front porch, and from there we spent the day laboring outside underneath the southeast Texas sky. We inspected trees for insect infestations, chopped brush crowding the trails, and herded cattle across the property. Despite sore hands, dusty jeans, and aching feet, I was mostly grateful because it was February and not the scorching Texas summer. At this point in the semester, I would have described this experience as little more than an attempt to earn the approval only your girlfriend’s dad can give.   However, this was before we had learned to observe nature as John Stilgoe proposes. So, allow me to re-narrate that day. I woke up just in time to catch the country sunrise. Sipping hot coffee on the wooden porch, I listened to insects chirp, felt dew soaking ...

My Best Photo: I chose this photo as my best this semester because it is a testament to my learning. I recall reviewing Edward Abbey's snake dilemma in class, and I was the only student to raise my hand and admit I would shoot it. I was incredibly scared of snakes and hated that they were ever in my space. However, as I learned this semester, I am, in fact, in theirs! So when I saw this snake while jogging, I realized he was just as startled as I was, especially since I was intruding on his sewer habitat. Instead of screaming and running when I saw him, I acknowledged that I was in his space, nodded in apology, and we both went peacefully on our way. Fortunately, he didn't mind that I wanted a quick photo for my blog.

Why do I need wild? At the beginning of the semester, I would have told you I don’t.   Why would I? Wild felt distant from my daily life. My time as a student was structured around classes and extracurriculars. My time as a young professional was spent commuting into the city and working long hours in a skyscraper during my banking internship. My life felt high-stakes and forward-moving. Nature was something I passed through, and that seemed fine. I attached a picture of where my post-graduate is headed, which poses the obvious question: how could the wild possibly make me a better student or future banker?  In this course, I was challenged to intentionally engage with nature. Compared to my typical academic experience, there were no stakes. My grade didn’t depend on my ability to interpret nature, just my attempts to engage with it. This made it easy to give it a shot. Pretty soon, I realized I needed wild as much as anyone.  Wild showed me that I needed to slow down. Be...

It was the kind of day that demanded to be spent outside. This glorious Sunday morning was one of those rare weekend days where, instead of sleeping in, you wake up to sunlight pouring through the blinds and feel called to bask in its warmth. As I approach graduation, I realize I’ve learned many things at TCU (most of them finance-related), but I’ve also discovered that there is no better way to enjoy a day like this in Fort Worth than by jogging on the Trinity Trails.  I arrived at the trailhead and set out as usual. At the beginning of a run, you feel a lot at once: your heart rate elevating, the cool breeze across your face, the pace of your steps on the dirt. But on this particular Sunday, I felt something unusual: nostalgia.  I’ve never considered myself a nostalgic person. I’ve always believed there’s little reason to look back when we can move forward. But the Trinity Trails and I have shared a lot over the past four years. They’ve been a break from campus life and a pl...

This past week, I had three unrelated experiences in nature. I was considering writing about each one separately; however, as I gathered my pictures, I realized they shared something in common after all. The first moment was the sunrise. I was particularly tired when I woke up that morning, but nature rewards early risers with something remarkable. The sky was so vivid that I needed to rush outside to catch it. However, as mentioned in a prior blog, the construction near my apartment obstructed my view. Frustrated and too groggy to search for a better angle, I settled for a glimpse between gaps of steel. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a reminder that beauty doesn't always present itself easily. The second moment was almost unnoticeable. But as I’ve become more observant throughout the semester, I’ve started to notice things I’d typically miss. This time, it was a pale lavender iris, elegantly standing alone amidst a patch of weeds. It wasn’t in a carefully planted flower bed like th...

Without further ado, we had the chance to visit the Fort Worth Nature Center and Refuge for the first time this semester. As explained by Dr. Jared Wood, the Center was originally created to protect the local watershed and has since become a preserve for local wildlife and native ecosystems. Ironically, our volunteer task was to disrupt it, or so I thought. Our job was simple: cut back the invasive bamboo that was overtaking the landscape. Armed with clippers and gloves, we set out to clear thick clusters of bamboo stalks to make space for native plants to grow. At the beginning, my partner and I were ambitious. We were clipping, grabbing, and discarding at an impressive pace. As time passed, the work became monotonous, sweaty, and tiring. More importantly, it lacked meaning. I hadn’t reconciled why what we were doing mattered.   That changed quickly. Rocco and I were deep in the brush, mindlessly cutting, when a sudden rumble shook the stalks below us. Furry creatures, about knee ...