This is where I share what I find — in farm fields, tide pools, backyards, and terrariums. Not research. Just genuine, sustained curiosity about how animals live.
The first time I noticed something nobody else did was at our local farm — a sheep stood apart from the herd for two mornings in a row, eating less, moving slower. I told one of the farm staff. Turned out she was coming down with an infection. I just noticed.
That noticing feeling is the thread through everything I do: four years at AAH Smile Farm, weekends at the San Francisco Zoo, watching my ball python learn to trust my hands, collecting eDNA samples from a creek I've walked past a hundred times.
This site is my field notebook — messier than a resume, more honest than an essay.
Not research papers. Just the moments that made me stop and pay attention.
For three weeks she was there before I arrived. Animals notice routines in ways we underestimate.
Six months in. She rested her head on my wrist and closed her eyes. I didn't move for forty minutes.
We sampled water that looked empty. The eDNA told a different story: three fish species, two amphibians. Invisible life, everywhere.
Not pets, exactly. More like long-term study subjects who also happen to trust me.
Originally from West Africa, ball pythons form surprisingly calm bonds with people who are patient with them. Luna took four months before she stopped tensing when I picked her up. Now she explores my arms like it's her favorite trail.
Stick insects survive by becoming invisible. Keeping one means learning to see differently — you have to look for them in their own enclosure. Twig taught me that noticing takes practice.
The short version. The longer version lives in the Field Notes.