Monday, August 19, 2013

The first bright day of the fall, the earth reflector.

August  19. 

After more rain, with wind in the night, it is now clearing up cool. There is a broad, clear crescent of blue in the west, slowly increasing, and an agreeable autumnal coolness, both under the high, withdrawn clouds and the edges of the woods, and a considerable wind wafts us along with our one sail and two umbrellas, sitting in thick coats. The wind comes from the northwest and is bracing and encouraging, and we can now sail up the stream. 

Flocks of bobolinks go tinkling along about the low willows, and swallows twitter, and a kingbird hovers almost stationary in the air, a foot above the water. The sun comes out now about noon, when we are at Rice's, and the water sparkles in the clear air, and the pads reflect the sun. 

How clear and bright the air! The stems of trees at a distance are absolutely black and the densest shade.

The great Sudbury meadows, looking north, appear elevated. Every blade and leaf has been washed by the rains, and the landscape is indescribably bright. It is light without heat, Septemberish, as if reflected from the earth, such as is common in the fall. The surface of the meadows and the whole earth is like that of a great reflector to the sun, but reflecting his light more than his heat. 

It is a glorious and ever-memorable day. 

We observe attentively the first beautiful days in the spring, but not so much in the autumn. It is a day affecting the spirits of men, but there is nobody to enjoy it but ourselves. This day itself has been the great phenomenon, but will it be reported in any journal, as the storm is, and the heat? 

It is like a great and beautiful flower unnamed.


It is such a day as mankind might spend in praising and glorifying nature. It might be spent as a natural sabbath, if only all men would accept the hint. 

The first bright day of the fall, the earth reflector.

The dog-day mists are gone; the washed earth shines; the cooler air braces man. No summer day is so beautiful as the fairest spring and fall days.

H. D. Thoreau, August 19, 1853


The wind comes from the northwest and is bracing and encouraging, and we can now sail up the stream. See August 19, 1858 ("It is cool with a considerable northwesterly wind, so that we can sail to Fair Haven. The dog-day weather is suddenly gone")

A great and beautiful flower unnamed. See May 31, 1853 (The fact that a rare and beautiful flower which we never saw, perhaps never heard of, for which therefore there was no place in our thoughts may be found in our immediate neighborhood, is very suggestive.)

A glorious and ever-memorable day. See May 18, 1852 (The world can never be more beautiful than now.); May 5, 1852 ("Every part of the world is beautiful today.")


The first bright day of the fall. See August 19, 1858 ("You may say it is the first day of autumn.")


August 19. See A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, August 19

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 © 2009-2021

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