By Ella Deutchman, Environmental Education Fellow, Class of 2023-2024
Published March 1, 2024
Finding Peace, Connection, and Purpose
My name is Ella, and I’m one of eight fellows in the 2023-2024 Environmental Education Fellowship program at Eagle Bluff. If you’d asked me a year ago where I’d end up, I probably wouldn’t have said here. I’m not a scientist, nor did I envision myself teaching as a long-term career. I can’t name every plant I pass or confidently identify animal tracks in the woods — though I’m getting better! What I do know is this: I love being outdoors, connecting with people, and finding moments that feel alive with possibility.
That’s what the fellowship has been for me: a space to explore, learn, and strengthen my connection to nature, my community, and myself.
From Fall Classrooms to Winter Quiet
Our days as fellows shift with the seasons. During the fall, I taught two three-hour classes each day or worked as a liaison for visiting school groups, helping guide their experience through three-day, two-night adventures. Now, in the heart of winter, the pace has changed. Fewer school groups visit, so we spend more time training and grounding ourselves with the rhythm of the season.
One January morning, with fresh snow blanketing the woods, we swapped our usual plans for an impromptu snowshoeing adventure. It was the first real snow of the season — the kind that sparkles and hushes everything into stillness. Together, we made our way to an abandoned power plant down a trail I’d never walked before, laughing and talking as our snowshoes crunched beneath us.
Moments of Connection in the Snow
As I brought up the back of the line, I couldn’t help but feel a quiet appreciation for this group of people I’ve come to care for so deeply. We talked about songs that match moments, books we’re reading, and polar plunges we want to try. We paused to shake snow off prairie plants, photograph lichens, and marvel at dormant buds waiting patiently for spring.
When we reached an overlook, a snowball fight broke out — laughter echoing off the hills as we ducked behind makeshift fortresses and catapulted snow into the sky. These are the moments that remind me why I’m here: to play, to be present, to share in joy and discovery.
Stillness Among the Trees
Our next stop was Chickadee Central, where three benches encircle bird feeders tucked into the woods. Mary, our seminar leader, scattered seeds across our gloves and hats, telling us to sit quietly and wait. The birds, she said, might come.
They didn’t. But there was a different kind of magic in that stillness. The wind seemed to take shape, whispering through the trees. I watched eyelids flutter shut, and mine soon followed. There’s something powerful about collective quiet, about choosing to sit together and just be. It felt like a secret we’d stumbled upon, one we’d forgotten we knew.
Why the Fellowship Works for Me
I didn’t come to Eagle Bluff because I wanted to be a teacher or a scientist. I came because I wanted to feel connected — to people, to the seasons, to myself. And that’s exactly what this fellowship offers.
Here, I get to watch kids push through their fears and find joy in simple moments. I’ve seen middle schoolers pack snow into their palms until it turns to ice, preschoolers tumble down hills in puffy snowsuits, and entire groups bond around campfires, ice crystals glinting all around them.
I get to confront my own anxieties, too — about public speaking, about being perceived so fully. I’m learning to slow down, to step into unfamiliar spaces, and to embrace the discomfort of growth. It’s a lesson in showing up, in finding peace with the pace of change, and in celebrating small victories along the way.
A Story Told by the Seasons
Lately, I’ve been thinking about a line from an Adrianne Lenker song: “And I met you on the corner of the seasons.” There’s something beautiful about that — meeting people, meeting yourself, at the edge of something cyclical. This winter, the snow came late, and its absence felt unsettling, as if the seasons had lost their rhythm. But when the snow finally arrived, it grounded me.
The fellowship has taught me to embrace those disruptions, to let the pace of the seasons guide me instead of rushing to keep up. Some days it’s sunny when it should be snowing. Some days a storm hits, and the world slows down whether we want it to or not. In those moments, I find a kind of peace: wiping snow from my windshield, bundling up for a sunrise run, or sitting quietly with friends as the trees whisper secrets only winter knows.
The Magic of Being Here
There’s something about life at Eagle Bluff that feels timeless. Maybe it’s the way the weather rearranges our plans, or the way the light changes as it reflects off the snow. Maybe it’s the laughter that rings out when we let ourselves play. Whatever it is, it’s a reminder that we are part of something bigger — something that changes, grows, and comes back around again.
For anyone seeking a place to connect with others, with nature, and with themselves, the Eagle Bluff Fellowship offers just that. It’s an experience that grounds you, challenges you, and reminds you to pay attention to the world around you.
Learn more about the Eagle Bluff Fellowship Program here and step into the next season of your life.
