It was January, with two feet of cold crisp powder on the ground. The day was bright and sunny. The 5th and 6th grades at our small rural, hill-town school had been studying life sciences. Educators and students were focusing on animals and the many varied ways they are adapted, both physically and behaviorally, to living in their environment. We decided to take advantage of the perfect winter day and headed out to see what we could learn about how animals live in winter from the signs and tracks they left behind.

We split the class into two groups. I led one and we headed down into the dark spruce forest. I was so excited to see what we could learn from whoever had been active during the night. The other group headed across the open fields to the neighboring pastures and farm. As our group trailed through the deep evergreens, tufts of snow drifted down from the spruce branches. Students were laughing and talking among themselves. I was looking for animal signs in the fresh snow. Wait a minute – where are the animals? No tracks here. Nothing over there. Why? Where were the squirrels, bobcats, foxes, coyotes? I was beginning to feel disappointed in not finding any learning opportunities. Not even a mouse?

Then my phone rang and the other group said, “Hey, come over to the farm. We’ve found something interesting.” So we all trooped over. There were tracks all over the farmyard; at first glance animal track chaos. But as we focused it appeared that the tracks belonged to one animal, and it was tunneling in the soft powder. We followed the tunnels and looked in them. What could have made so many? Definitely a mammal. Not too big. Then a student looked in one of the tunnels and yelled, “There’s blood!” We all rushed over and sure enough there was blood on the snowy floor of the tunnel! Was it a predator? The animal seemed to have gone everywhere, maybe even inside the barn? It had been very active, exploring along the stone wall at the edge of the pasture.

We measured the snow tunnels and they were consistently 4 inches in diameter. We gathered as much data as we could. I kept asking the students to articulate what they were noticing, what animal they thought made the tunnels and how they reached their conclusions. It was a wonderful opportunity to distinguish between scientific observations and inferences. What was this animal doing? Why did it go to the stone wall? It was very exciting and lots of different animals were suggested: weasel, fisher, red squirrel, mink, mole, vole?

Just before we had to return to the school, I followed a series of tunnels that led over to the edge of the pasture. The tunnels loped up a long, steep slope to get to the farmyard. And at the bottom of the slope was West Branch Brook. Did this mean that the animal could have been coming up from the brook? I posed that question to the students as another clue for our quest.

On the way back to class I told the students that one of our mammal field guides had a page in it that illustrated tunnel diameters for all of our snow-tunneling mammals. I was sure that the diagrams would give us more information that could help solidify one of our theories. We made our way back to the classroom and students avidly went for the field guide and found the snow tunnel page. The diameter of the tunnels were a good match for mink. We had found mink signs right across the pasture from our school! Not many students had ever seen a mink before, but now they had a vivid idea that minks dig tunnels in snow plus thoughts about other mink strategies for winter survival.

What are the connections between outdoor experiences in the natural world in our youth, and developing values and attitudes toward Earth and our surroundings later in life? That day lives vividly in my memory. And I hope in the students’ memory as well. The connection to a wild animal, the excitement, the not-knowing, noticing, wondering, the blood, the chase … all elements of outdoor learning that bring knowledge and scientific thinking to students in informal, fun ways.

Rather than boring memorization of taxonomy and life cycles, the morning adventure fostered connections to the wonders of nature through active inquiry combined with physical activity. Maybe you can find some time this winter to go animal tracking, perhaps with a young person, and find some stories in the snow that might deepen connections to this amazing natural world. As Rachel Carson so aptly wrote in the essay, “Help Your Child to Wonder,” “If a child is to keep alive [their] inborn sense of wonder ... [they] need the companionship of at least one adult who can share it, rediscovering with [them] the joy, excitement and mystery of the world we live in.”

Ted Watt (he/him) is a naturalist, retired after more than 35 years at the Hitchcock Center for the Environment. Over the years he has shared the wonders of nature with countless young people and adults, always curious and always keeping alive the “joy, excitement, and mystery.”

Earth Matters has been a project of the Hitchcock Center for the Environment for 15 years. HCE’s mission is to educate and to inspire action for a healthy planet. Our Living Building and trails are open to all at 845 West St. in Amherst. To learn more, visit hitchcockcenter.org.