Sailing the woods

October 28.

We make a great noise going through the fallen leaves in the woods and wood-paths now, so that we cannot hear other sounds, as of birds or other people. 

It reminds me of the tumult of the waves clashing against each other or your boat. This is the dash we hear as we sail the woods.


H. D. Thoreau, Journal October 28, 1860

We make a great noise going through the fallen leaves in the woods. See October 28, 1852  ("I hear no sound but the rustling of the withered leaves, and, on the wooded hilltops, the roar of the wind.”); See also October 10, 1851 ("You make a great noise now walking in the woods."); October 22, 1857 ("As I go through the woods now, so many oak and other leaves have fallen the rustling noise somewhat disturbs my musing.”)

We make a great noise 

going through the fallen leaves

in the wood-paths now.

It is the tumult

of the waves clashing your boat

as we sail the woods.

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Sailing the woods

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau

 "A book, each page written in its own season,

out-of-doors, in its own locality."

 ~edited, assembled and rewritten by zphx ©  2009-2024

https://tinyurl.com/hdt-601028

It is dark. The witch hazel at the junction is bare of all leaves and bursting with quarter-size flowers .I take a picture in my headlamp. The forest floor and trails are covered with wet leaves. I notice when we come under the pines or the poplars or -- heading up the last ridge where everything is red oak and the oak leaves are every color of brown . . . In the darkness I look at the lichen on the bark of the tree trunks and the moisture on the bark and the moss and lichens on the rocks The passing rocks. Intricate lichens living in this one spot on this one rock in this one forest. 

Lichens living in 

this one spot on this one rock

in this one forest  

October 28, 2016