Saturday, April 26, 2014

A still, overcast, warm Spring day.

April 26.

— To Lee's Cliff on foot. 

A still, warm, overcast day with a southwest wind, and the finest possible dew-like rain in the air from time to time, now more of the sun. It is now so warm that I go back to leave my greatcoat for the first time, and the cooler smell of possible rain is refreshing.


The woods are full of myrtle-birds this afternoon, more common and commonly heard than any, especially along the edge of woods on oaks, etc., — their note an oft-repeated fine jingle, a tea le, tea le, tea le. These small birds — and all small birds — seen against the sky at a little distance look black. There is not breadth enough to their colors to make any impression; they are mere motes, intercepting the light, the substance of a shadow. 



Hear the first chewink hopping and chewinking among the shrub oaks.

To-day the air is full of birds; they attend the opening of the buds.  The buds start, then the insects, then the birds. 


Birds sing all day when it is warm, still, and overcast as now, much more than in clear weather, and the hyla too is heard, as at evening. The hylodes commonly begins early in the afternoon, and its quire increases till evening. 

I hear now snipes far over the meadow incessantly at 3.15 p. m.

Saw probably a pigeon hawk skim straight and low over field and wood, and another the next day apparently dark slate-color. 

It is warm and still, almost sultry, as if there might be a thunder-shower before night. 


Now look down on Fair Haven. How pleasant in spring a still, overcast, warm day like this, when the water is smooth!

9 P. M. Quite a heavy thunder-shower, -- the second lightning, I think. The vivid lightning, as I walk the street, reveals the contrast between day and night. The rising cloud in the west makes it very dark and difficult to find my way , when there comes a flash which lights up the street for a moment almost as brightly as the day , far more so than moonlight, and I see a person on the sidewalk before me fifty rods off . 

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, April 26, 1854




Hear the first chewink hopping and chewinking among the shrub oaks. See April 26, 1855 ("See and hear chewinks, — all their strains; the same date with last year, by accident.");   April 28, 1856 ("See a chewink (male) in the Kettell place woods."); April 28, 1856   (“See, but not yet hear, the familiar chewink amid the dry leaves amid the underwood on the meadow’s edge.”). See also A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Chewink (Rufous-sided Towhee)

The buds start, then the insects, then the birds. See April 23, 1852 ("Vegetation starts when the earth's axis is sufficiently inclined . . . . Man follows all, and all follow the sun.”)

A hawk skim straight and low over field and wood, and another the next day apparently dark slate-color. See April 27, 1860  ("I saw yesterday, and see to-day, a small hawk which I take to be a pigeon hawk. . . . I am decided by his size (as well as color) and his low, level skimming.."); May 4, 1855 (“Sitting in Abel Brooks’s Hollow, see a small hawk go over high in the air, with a long tail and distinct from wings. It advanced by a sort of limping flight yet rapidly, not circling nor tacking, but flapping briskly at intervals and then gliding straight ahead with rapidity, controlling itself with its tail. It seemed to be going a journey. Was it not the sharp-shinned, or Falco fuscus? I think that what I have called the sparrow hawk falsely, and latterly pigeon hawk, is also the sharp-shinned (vide April 26th and May 8th, 1854, and April 16th, 1855), for the pigeon hawk’s tail is white-barred.”) and note to July 21, 1858 (“It was the Falco fuscus, the American brown or slate-colored hawk”)  See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the sharp-shinned hawk. and  A Book of the Seasons by Henry Thoreau, The Pigeon Hawk (Merlin)

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