Wood thrush

July 31. Wood thrush still sings.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 31, 1854

New fungi within a week

July 30. 

I find the new rudbeckia in five distinct and distant parts of the town this year, - beyond almshouse, Arethusa Meadow, Sam. Wheeler meadow, Abel Hosmer meadow, and J. Hosmer meadow.

There are some of what I will call the clustered low blackberries on the sand just beyond the Dugan Desert. There are commonly a few larger grains in dense clusters on very short peduncles and flat on the sand, clammy with a cool subacid taste.

July 30, 2014

I have seen a few new fungi within a week. The tobacco-pipes are still pushing up white amid the dry leaves, sometimes lifting a canopy of leaves with them four or five inches.


H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 30, 1854

A change of season

July 28.

Methinks the season culminated about the middle of this month, — that the year was of indefinite promise before, but that, after the first intense heats, we postponed the fulfillment of many of our hopes for this year, and, having as it were attained the ridge of the summer, commenced to descend the long slope toward winter, the afternoon and down-hill of the year.

Last evening it was much cooler, and I heard a decided fall sound of crickets.

• Partridges begin to go off in packs.
• Lark still sings, and robin.
• Small sparrows still heard.
• Kingbird lively.
• Veery and wood thrush (?) not very lately, nor oven-bird.
• Red-eye and chewink common.
• Night-warbler and evergreen-forest note not lately. 
• Cherry-bird common. 
• Turtle dove seen.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 28, 1854

Partridges begin to go off in packs. See July 25, 1854 ("I now start some packs of partridges, old and young, going off together without mewing.") See also note to  August 24, 1855 ("Scare up a pack of grouse”)

. . . the long slope toward winter, the afternoon and down-hill of the year. See July 26, 1853 ("This the afternoon of the year. How apt we are to be reminded of lateness, even before the year is half spent!");August 18, 1853 ("What means this sense of lateness that so comes over one now, — as if the rest of the year were down-hill . . . “); August 5, 1854 ( ". . . long declivity from midsummer to winter”).

Butterflies, berries and locusts.

July 26. 

One reason why the lately shorn fields shine so and reflect so much light is that a lighter-colored and tender grass, which has been shaded by the crop taken of, is now exposed, and also a light and fresh grass is springing up there. Yet I think it is not wholly on this account, but in a great measure owing to a clearer air after rains which have succeeded to misty weather. 

I am going over the hill through Ed. Hosmer's orchard, when I observe this light reflected from the shorn fields, contrasting affectingly with the dark smooth Assabet, reflecting the now dark shadows of the woods. The fields reflect light quite to the edge of the stream. 

The peculiarity of the stream is in a certain languid or stagnant smoothness of the water, and of the bordering woods in a dog-day density of shade reflected darkly in the water. 

Alternate cornel berries  a day or two.

Today i see in various parts of the town the yellow butterflies in fleets in the road, on bare damp sand, twenty or more collected within a diameter of five or six inches in many places.

They are a greenish golden, sitting still near together, and apparently headed one way if the wind blows. At first, perhaps, you do not notice them, but, as you pass along, you disturb them, and the air is suddenly all alive with them fluttering over the road, and, when you are past, they soon settle down in a new place.

How pretty these little greenish-golden spangles! Some are a very pale greenish yellow. The farmer is not aware how much beauty flutters about his wagon. I do not know what attracts them thus to sit near together, like a fleet in a haven; why they collect in groups.

Almost every bush now offers a wholesome and palatable diet to the wayfarer, — large and dense clusters of Vaccinium vacillans, largest in most moist ground, sprinkled with the red ones not ripe; great high blueberries, some nearly as big as cranberries, of an agreeable acid; huckleberries of various kinds, some shining black, some dull-black, some blue; and low blackberries of two or more varieties. The broods of birds just matured find thus plenty to eat.

It is a windy day like yesterday, yet almost constantly I hear borne on the wind from far, mingling with the sound of the wind, the z-ing locust, scarcely like a distinct sound.

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

July 26. Wednesday . 

Polygonum hydropiperoides first obvious. 

Mikania , a day or two . 

Lilies open about 6 A. M. 

Methinks I have heard toads within a week. 

A white mildew on ground in woods this morning. 

P. M. — To lime-kiln via rudbeckia. 

Ate an early apple from one of my own trees . 

Amaranthus, apparently three or four days. The under sides of its lower leaves are of a rich pale lake-color. This appears to have nothing to do with their maturity, since very young and fresh ones are so. 

I see these in Hosmer's onion garden, where he is weeding, and am most attracted by the weeds. 

One reason why the lately shorn fields shine so and reflect so much light is that a lighter-colored and tender grass, which has been shaded by the crop taken off, is now exposed, and also a light and fresh grass is springing up there. Yet I think it is not wholly on this account, but in a great measure owing to a clearer air after rains which have succeeded to misty weather. 

I am going over the hill through Ed. Hosmer's orchard, when I observe this light reflected from the shorn fields, contrasting affectingly with the dark smooth Assabet, reflecting the now dark shadows of the woods. The fields reflect light quite to the edge of the stream. 

The peculiarity of the stream is in a certain languid or stagnant smoothness of the water, and of the bordering woods in a dog-day density of shade reflected darkly in the water. 

Alternate cornel berries, a day or two. 

To-day I see in various parts of the town the yellow butterflies in fleets in the road, on bare damp sand (not dung), twenty or more collected within a diameter of five or six inches in many places . They are a greenish golden , sitting still near together, and apparently headed one way if the wind blows. At first, perhaps, you do not notice them, but, as you pass along, you disturb them, and the air is suddenly all alive with them fluttering over the road, and, when you are past, they soon settle down in a new place. How pretty these little greenish-golden spangles! Some are a very pale greenish yellow. The farmer is not aware how much beauty flutters about his wagon. I do not know what attracts them thus to sit near together  like a fleet in a haven; why they collect in groups. I see many small red ones elsewhere on the sericocarpus, etc., etc. 

Rudbeckia,  apparently three or four days at least; only the middle flower yet for most part. 

Rusty cotton grass how long. 

Green grapes have for some days been ready to stew . 

Diplopappus linariifolius. 

Aster dumosus. 

Almost every bush now offers a wholesome and palatable diet to the wayfarer, 

• large and dense clusters of Vaccinium vacillans, largest in most moist ground, sprinkled with the red ones not ripe; 
• great high blueberries, some nearly as big as cranberries, of an agreeable acid; 
• huckleberries of various kinds, some shining black, some dull-black, some blue; 
• and low blackberries of two or more varieties. 

The broods of birds just matured find thus plenty to eat.

 Gymnadenia [ sic ] , maybe five or six days in swamp southeast of lime kiln ; one without any spurs . 

It is a windy day and hence worse [ ? ] in respect to birds, like yesterday, yet almost constantly I hear borne on the wind from far, mingling with the sound of the wind, the z-ing of the locust, scarcely like a distinct sound. 

Vernonia, begun in centre a day . 

Light reflected from the shorn fields, contrasting affectingly with the dark smooth Assabet, reflecting the now dark shadows of the woods. See July 23, 1854 (" There is a peculiar light reflected from the shorn fields, as later in the fall, when rain and coolness have cleared the air."); July 24, 1852("There is a short, fresh green on the shorn fields, the aftermath. When the first crop of grass is off, and the aftermath springs, the year has passed its culmination "); July 24, 1860 ("Many a field where the grass has been cut shows now a fresh and very lit-up light green as you look toward the sun."); July 28, 1852 ("There is a yellowish light now from a low, tufted, yellowish, broad-leaved grass, in fields that have been mown.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Haymaking

Yellow butterflies. See July 14, 1852 ("See to-day for the first time this season fleets of yellow butterflies in compact assembly in the road..."); July 19, 1856 ("Fleets of yellow butterflies on road."); July 22, 1853("Yellow butterflies in the road.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Yellow Butterflies

I hear borne on the wind from far, mingling with the sound of the wind, the z-ing locust. See June 14, 1854 ("Harris's other kind, the dog-day cicada (canicularis), or harvest-fly. He says it begins to be heard invariably at the beginning of dog-days; he (Harris) heard it for many years in succession with few exceptions on the 25th of July."); July 17, 1856 (“A very warm afternoon. Thermometer at 97° at the Hosmer Desert. I hear the early locust.”); July 18, 1851 ("I first hear the locust sing, so dry and piercing, by the side of the pine woods in the heat of the day"); July 22, 1860 ("First locust heard.")

 

July 26. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, July 26

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

Decidedly midsummer rain.

July 25.

A decided rain-storm to-day and yesterday, such as we have not had certainly since May. Are we likely ever to have two days' rain in June and the first half of July? There is considerable wind too.

P. M. — To Bare Hill, Lincoln, via railroad. 

High blackberries, a day or two.  

I see some oak sprouts from the stump, six feet high. Some are now just started again after a pause, with small red leaves as in the spring. 

The rain has saved the berries. They are plump and large.

Hear a wood thrush. I now start some packs of partridges, old and young, going off together without mewing. 

See in woods a toad, dead-leaf color with black spots.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 25, 1854

High blackberries, a day or two. See August 3, 1856 ("High blackberries beginning; a few ripe. "); August 4, 1856 ("Here and there the high blackberry, just beginning, towers over all. "):
See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Blackberries

Oak sprouts... started again. See July 14, 1852 ("Trees have commonly two growths in the year, a spring and a fall growth, ... and you can ... wonder what there was in the summer to produce this check...These two growths are now visible on the oak sprouts, the second already nearly equalling the first."); August 4, 1854 (" I see a new growth on oak sprouts, three to six inches, with reddish leaves as in spring. Some whole trees show the lighter new growth at a distance, above the dark green.")

A toad, dead-leaf color with black spots. See July 25, 1855 ("Many little toads about.") See also June 29, 1852 ("The mud turtle is the color of the mud, the wood frog and the hylodes of the dead leaves, the bullfrogs of the pads, the toad of the earth, the tree-toad of the bark."); July 12, 1852 ("I go to walk at twilight, — at the same time that toads go to their walks, and are seen hopping about the sidewalks or the pump"); July 17, 1853 ("Young toads not half an inch long at Walden shore."); July 17, 1856 (“I see many young toads hopping about on that bared ground amid the thin weeds, not more than five eighths to three quarters of an inch long.”)

Afternoon thunder

July 24.

Now, at 2 p. m., I hear again the loud thunder and see the dark cloud in the west. 

Some small and nearer clouds are floating past, white against the dark-blue distant one.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 24, 1854

See July 19, 1851("The wind rises more and more. The river and the pond are blacker than the threatening cloud in the south. The thunder mutters in the distance. The surface of the water is slightly rippled. ... The woods roar. Small white clouds [hurry] across the dark-blue ground of the storm . . .") see also November 12, 1852 (“From Fair Haven Hill, I see a very distant, long, low dark-blue cloud in the northwest horizon beyond the mountains, and against this I see, apparently, a narrow white cloud resting on every mountain and conforming exactly to its outline”)

A peculiar light

July 23.

There is a peculiar light reflected from the shorn fields, as later in the fall, when rain and coolness have cleared the air. Hazel leaves in dry places have begun to turn yellow and brown. 

I see broods of partridges later than the others, now the size of the smallest chickens.   

The white orchis at same place, four or five days at least; spike one and three quarters by three inches. 

Small flocks of song sparrows rustle along the walls and fences.  

See a thunder-cloud coming up in northwest, but as I walk and wind in the woods, lose the points of compass and cannot tell whether it is travelling this way or not. At length the sun is obscured by its advance guard, but, as so often, the rain comes, leaving thunder and lightning behind.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 23, 1854

I see broods of partridges later than the others, now the size of the smallest chickens. See June 26, 1857( "See a pack of partridges as big as robins at least.");July 5, 1857 ("Partridges big as quails.");
 July 7, 1854 ("Disturb two broods of partridges this afternoon, — one a third grown, flying half a dozen rods over the bushes, yet the old, as anxious as ever, rushing to me with the courage of a hen."); July 10, 1854 ("Partridge, young one third grown.")

As I walk and wind in the woods, lose the points of compass. See March 29, 1853 ("Every man has once more to learn the points of compass as often as he awakes, whether from sleep or from any abstraction.")

July 23. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, July 23

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

Melting heat

July 22.

The hottest night, — the last. It was almost impossible to pursue any work out-of- doors yesterday. There were but few men to be seen out. You were prompted often, if working in the sun, to step into the shade to avoid a sunstroke. 

Fogs almost every morning now. Now clouds have begun to hang about all day, which do not promise rain, as it were the morning fogs elevated but little above the earth and floating through the air all day.

P. M. -- To Assabet Bath. There is a cool wind from the east, which makes it cool walking that way while it is melting hot walking westward. 

Gerardia flava, apparently two or three days, Lupine Hillside up railroad, near fence .

Solidago odora, a day or two, Lupine Hillside, and what I will call S. puberula, to-morrow. S. altissima on railroad, a day or two.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 22, 1854

Fogs almost every morning now. See July 22, 1851 ("The season of morning fogs has arrived. . .”)

The hottest night . . .At dusk we hike to the view without headlamps on, arriving to a spectacular light show of constant lightning flashes and bolts to the northwest — so far  away we only occasionally  hear the thunder.  we water the dogs and  linger as long as we dare. Loki watches the light show.   my water bottle has dropped somewhere on the trail so we walk back the same route. L ittle acorn is on an elastic leach strapped to my waist, her first outing since her surgery 10 day ago. A short hike.  It has been a 90 degree day and two fans so loud  in the family room we do not hear when the deluge hits home a little later.  ~ zphx 20160722

A July thundershower

July 20.

A very hot day, a bathing day. Warm days about this. Corn in blossom these days.

P. M. — To Hubbard Bath. A muttering thunder-cloud in northwest gradually rising and with its advanced guard hiding in the sun and now and then darting forked lightning. The wind rising ominously also drives me home again.

At length down it comes upon the thirsty herbage, beating down the leaves with grateful, tender violence and slightly cooling the air. How soon it sweeps over and we see the flash in the southeast!

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 20, 1854

See July 20, 1851 (“A thunder-shower in the night ... the lightning filled the damp air with light, like some vast glow-worm in the fields of ether opening its wings.”)

Furnace-like heats are beginning

July 19.

In Moore's Swamp I pluck cool, though not very sweet, large red raspberries in the shade. Wild holly berries, a day or two. Black choke-berry, several days. High blueberries scarce.   

Apparently a catbird's nest in a shrub oak, lined with root-fibres, with three green- blue eggs. Erigeron annuus perhaps fifteen rods or more beyond the Hawthorn Bridge on right hand - a new plant.

The white cotton-grass now (and how long ?) at Beck Stow's appears to be the Eriophorum gracile (?). I see no rusty ones.

In the maple swamp at Hubbard's Close, the great cinnamon ferns are very handsome now in tufts, falling over in handsome curves on every side. Some are a foot wide and raised up six feet long. Clintonia berries in a day or two. 

I am surprised to see at Walden a single Aster patens with a dozen flowers fully open a day or more.

The more smothering, furnace-like heats are beginning, and the locust days.

 A wood thrush to - night . Veery within two or three days . 

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 19, 1854


The white cotton-grass at Beck Stow's appears to be the Eriophorum gracile (?). I see no rusty ones. See October 14, 1852 (" It is apparently the Eriophorum Virginicum, Virginian cotton-grass, now nodding or waving with its white woolly heads over the greenish andromeda and amid the red isolated blueberry bushes in Beck Stow's Swamp.");July 4, 1853 (“The cotton-grass at Beck Stow's. Is it different from the early one?”) Compare August 23, 1854 ("Next comes [at Gowings Swamp], half a dozen rods wide, a dense bed of Andromeda calyculata , — the A. Polifolia mingled with it, — the rusty cotton grass, cranberries , — the common and also V . Oxyoccus , — pitcher-plants, sedges, and a few young spruce and larch here and there, — all on sphagnum" ) See also July 23, 1856 ("Russsell says] that the two white cotton-grasses (Eriophorum) were probably but one species, taller and shorter,") Note:. a third cotton-grass,  Eriophorum vaginatum, was known to HDT after  May 28, 1858 only  at Ledum Swamp See .. Vascular Flora of Concord, Massachusetts compiled by Ray Angelo

I am surprised to see at Walden a single Aster patens . . . See July 27, 1853 ("I notice to-day the first purplish aster... The afternoon of the year.”); see also August 12, 1856 ("The Aster patens is very handsome by the side of Moore's Swamp on the bank, — large flowers, more or less purplish or violet, each commonly (four or five) at the end of a long peduncle, three to six inches long, at right angles with the stem, giving it an open look.”)

The more smothering, furnace-like heats are beginning.  See July 18, 1854 ("Methinks the asters and goldenrods begin, like the early ripening leaves, with midsummer heats.")

Where I looked for early spring flowers I do not look for midsummer ones.

July 18.

Methinks the asters and goldenrods begin, like the early ripening leaves, with midsummer heats.

July 18, 2014

 Now look out for these children of the sun, when already the fall of some of the very earliest spring flowers has commenced.

The Island is now dry and shows few flowers. Where I looked for early spring flowers I do not look for midsummer ones.

As I go along the Joe Smith road, every bush and bramble bears its fruit; the sides of the road are a fruit garden; blackberries, huckleberries, thimble-berries, fresh and abundant, no signs of drought; all fruits in abundance; the earth teems.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 18, 1854

Methinks the asters and goldenrods begin, like the early ripening leaves, with midsummer heats. See July 15, 1854 ("The stems and leaves of various asters and golden-rods, which ere long will reign along the way, begin to be conspicuous."): July 19, 1851 ("Beyond the bridge there is a goldenrod partially blossomed. . . .Yesterday it was spring, and to-morrow it will be autumn."); July 26, 1853 ("I mark again, about this time when the first asters open. . . This the afternoon of the year."); July 28, 1852 ("Goldenrod and asters have fairly begun; there are several kinds of each out. "); August 30, 1853 ("Why so many asters and goldenrods now?")

All fruits in abundance; the earth teems. See July 18, 1853 ("Now are the days to go a-berrying.")

July 18. See A Book of Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, July 18

A Book of 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

Midsummer on the River; a sultry, languid debauched look.

July 18.

July 18.

A hot midsummer day with a sultry mistiness in the air and shadows on land and water beginning to have a peculiar distinctness and solidity. The river, smooth and still, with a deepened shade of the elms on it, like midnight suddenly revealed, its bed-curtains shoved aside, has a sultry languid look.

The atmosphere now imparts a bluish or glaucous tinge to the distant trees. A certain debauched look. This a crisis in the season. 

After this the foliage of some trees is almost black at a distance. 

I do not know why the water should be so remarkably clear and the sun shine through to the bottom of the river, making it so plain. Methinks the air is not clearer nor the sun brighter, yet the bottom is unusually distinct and obvious in the sun. There seems to be no concealment for the fishes. On all sides, as I float along, the recesses of the water and the bottom are unusually revealed, and I see the fishes and weeds and shells. I look down into the sunny water. 

We have very few bass trees in Concord, but walk near them at this season and they will be betrayed, though several rods off, by the wonderful susurrus of the bees, etc., which their flowers attract. It is worth going a long way to hear. I am warned that I am passing one in two instances on the river, —only two I pass, — by this remarkable sound. At a little distance it is like the sound of a waterfall or of the cars; close at hand like a factory full of looms. They are chiefly humblebees, and the great globose tree is all alive with them. I hear the murmur distinctly fifteen rods off. You will know if you pass within a few rods of a bass tree at this season in any part of the town, by this loud murmur, like a water fall, which proceeds from it.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 18, 1854

A certain debauched look: See June 16, 1852 ("The earth looks like a debauchee after the sultry night") and July 24, 1851 ("Nature is like a hen panting with open mouth, in the grass, as the morning after a debauch.")

Bass tree susurrus:  See July 16, 1852 ("The air is full of sweetness. The tree is full of poetry."); July 17, 1856 ("Hear at distance the hum of bees from the bass with its drooping flowers at the Island,. . . It sounds like the rumbling of a distant train of cars.")

I look down into the sunny water  . . . See July 30, 1856 ("The water is suddenly clear.”); July 28, 1859 ("The season has now arrived when I begin to see further into the water . . “);. July 27, 1860 ("The water has begun to be clear and sunny, revealing the fishes and countless minnows of all sizes and colors”). August 8, 1859 ("The river, now that it is so clear and sunny, is better than any aquarium. ")

July 18. See A Book of Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, July 18

A Book of 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

An hour and a half timing the closing of the lilies

July 17.

By river to Fair Haven.  

July 17, 2015

I go to observe the lilies. 

At Purple Utricularia Shore, there are, within a circle of four or five rods' diameter, ninety-two lilies fairly open and about half a dozen which appear to have already partly closed. I watch them for an hour and a half. By about 1.30 they are all shut up, and no petal is to be seen up and down the river unless a lily is broken off. You may therefore say that they shut up between 11.30 and 1.30, though almost all between 12 and 1. 

I think that I could tell when it was 12 o'clock within half an hour by the lilies. 

Meanwhile large yellowish devil's-needles, coupled, are flying about and repeatedly dipping their tails in the water. 

I feel an intense heat reflected from the surface of the pads. The rippled parts of the stream contrast with the dark smooth portions. They are separated as by an invisible barrier, yet, when I paddle into the smoothness, I feel the breeze the same. 

Why are not all the white lily pads red beneath? 

I am surprised to see crossing my course in middle of Fair Haven Pond great yellowish devil's-needles, flying from shore to shore, from Island to Baker's Farm and back, about a foot above the water, some against a head wind; also yellow butterflies; suggesting that these insects see the distant shore and resolve to visit it. In fact, they move much faster than I can toward it, yet as if they were conscious that they were on a journey, flying for the most part straight forward. It shows more enterprise and a wider range than I had suspected. It looks very bold. If devil's-needles cross Fair Haven, then man may cross the Atlantic. 

In Conant's meadow just behind Wheeler's, the smaller fringed orchis not quite reached by the mowers. It may have been out four or five days. It is a darker purple for being so exposed. None yet opening in the shade.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 17, 1854

I could tell when it was 12 o'clock within half an hour by the lilies. See June 21, 1853 ("4.30 A.M.––Up river for lilies . . .The few lilies begin to open about 5."); July 1, 1852 ("...to see the white lilies in blossom...to breathe the atmosphere of lilies, and get the full impression which lilies are fitted to make. ... After eating our luncheon I can not find one open anywhere for the rest of the day."); July 20, 1853 ("Coming home at twelve, I see that the white lilies are nearly shut");  July 26, 1856 ("At five [A.M.] the lilies had not opened, but began about 5.15 and were abundantly out at six"); also note to June 29, 1852 ("The wind exposes the red undersides of the white lily pads. This is one of the aspects of the river now.")

And March 27, 1853: Half an hour standing perfectly still to hear the frogs croak.

Great yellowish devil's-needles flying from shore to shore about a foot above the water, some against a head wind.  See July 17, 1853 ("I see two great devil’s-needles, three inches long, with red abdomens and bodies as big as hummingbirds, sailing round this pond, round and round, and ever and anon darting aside suddenly, probably to seize some prey. ") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Devil's-needle

The smaller fringed orchis not quite reached by the mowers. See July 21, 1851 ("The small purple orchis, its spikes half opened"); July 24, 1856 ("The small purple fringed orchis, apparently three or four days at least."); July 26, 1852("The smaller purple fringed orchis has not quite filled out its spike");
July 30, 1853("A small purple orchis (Platanthera psycodes) . . .If the meadows were untouched , I should no doubt see many more of the rare white and the beautiful smaller purple orchis there, as I now see a few along the shaded brooks and meadow's edge.") See also A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Purple Fringed Orchids

There is a damp, earthy, mildewy scent to the ground in wood-paths.

July 16.

A thick fog began last night and lasts till late this morning; first of the kind, methinks. 

Many yellow butterflies and red on clover and yarrow. 

Is it the yellow-winged or Savannah sparrow with yellow alternating with dark streaks on throat, as well as yellow over eye, reddish flesh-colored legs, and two light bars on wings? 

Solidago nemoralis yesterday. 

Woodcock by side of Walden in woods. 

Methinks there were most devil's-needles a month ago. 

Aralia nudicaulis berries well ripe. 

The Polygala sanguinea heads in the grass look like sugar-plums.

After the late rains and last night's fog, it is somewhat dog-dayish, and there is a damp, earthy, mildewy scent to the ground in wood-paths.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 16, 1854

Many yellow butterflies and red on clover and yarrow. See July 16, 1851 ("I see the yellow butterflies now gathered in fleets in the road, and on the flowers of the milkweed. . .; also the smaller butterfly, with reddish wings, and a larger, black or steel-blue, with wings spotted red on edge, and one of equal size, reddish copper-colored."); July 14, 1852 ("See to-day for the first time this season fleets of yellow butterflies in compact assembly in the road”); July 19, 1856 ("Fleets of yellow butterflies on road.");  July 22, 1853 ("Yellow butterflies in the road");July 26, 1854 ("Today I see in various parts of the town the yellow butterflies in fleets in the road, on bare damp sand, twenty or more collected within a diameter of five or six inches in many places.") See also A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Yellow Butterflies; A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Small Red Butterfly


Is it the yellow-winged or Savannah sparrow.? See June 10, 1854 ("What is the seringo? I see some with clear, dirty-yellow breasts, but others, as to-day, with white breasts, dark-streaked. Both have the yellow over eye and the white line on crown, and agree in size, but I have seen only one with distinct yellow on wings. . . . Are they both yellow-winged sparrows? or is the white-breasted with streaks the Savannah sparrow?"); June 12, 1854 ("Do I not see two birds with the seringo note, — the Savannah (?) sparrow, larger with not so bright a yellow over eye, none on wing, and white breast, and beneath former streaked with dark and perhaps a dark spot, and the smaller yellow-winged, with spot on wing also and ochreous breast and throat? ");  June 26, 1856 ("According to Audubon’s and Wilson’s plates, the Fringilla passerina has for the most part clear yellowish-white breast (vide May 28th), but the Savannah sparrow no conspicuous yellow on shoulder, a yellow brow, and white crown line.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Savannah Sparrow (Fringilla savanna)

Methinks there were most devil's-needles a month ago. See  June 19, 1860 ("The devil's-needles now abound in wood-paths and about the Ripple Lakes."); June 23, 1853 ("Devil's-needles of various kinds abundant, . . .thousands of devil's-needles of all sizes hovering over the surface of this shallow pond in the woods,. "); See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Devil's-needle

The long slope toward winter.

July 15.

Rained still in forenoon; now cloudy. Fields comparatively deserted to-day and yesterday. Hay stands cocked in them on all sides. Some, being shorn, are clear for the walker. It is but a short time that he has to dodge the haymakers. 

This cooler, still, cloudy weather after the rain is very autumnal and restorative to our spirits. The robin sings still, but the goldfinch twitters over oftener, and I hear the link link of the bobolink, and the crickets creak more as in the fall. All these sounds dispose our minds to serenity.  

We seem to be passing, or to have passed, a dividing line between spring and autumn, and begin to descend the long slope toward winter. 

On the shady side of the hill I go along Hubbard's walls toward the bathing-place, stepping high to keep my feet as dry as may be. All is stillness in the fields. My thoughts are driven inward, even as clouds and trees are reflected in the still, smooth water. 

There is an inwardness even in the mosquitoes' hum, while I am picking blueberries in the dank wood.

The stems and leaves of various asters and golden-rods, which ere long will reign along the way, begin to be conspicuous.  

There are many butterflies, yellow and red, about the Asclepias incarnata now. 

Many birds begin to fly in small flocks like grown-up broods. 

Green grapes and cranberries also remind me of the advancing season.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 15, 1854

I hear the link link of the bobolink . . . See July 15, 1856 ("Bobolinks are heard — their link, link — above and amid the tall rue which now whitens the meadows”) See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Bobolink

We seem to be passing a dividing line between spring and autumn, and begin to descend the long slope toward winter. See July 28, 1854 (“Methinks the season culminated about the middle of this month, — that the year was of indefinite promise before, but that, after the first intense heats, we postponed the fulfillment of many of our hopes for this year, and, having as it were attained the ridge of the summer, commenced to descend the long slope toward winter, the afternoon and down-hill of the year.”); see also   July 19, 1851 ("Yesterday it was spring, and to-morrow it will be autumn. Where is the summer then?")

July 15. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau July 15

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

A summer rain.

July 14.

July 14, 2014

Awake to day of gentle rain, — very much needed; none to speak of for nearly a month, methinks. The cooler and stiller day has a valuable effect on my spirits. 

P. M. — Over the Hill to Brown's watering-place. 

A fine, misty rain falls. It lies on the fine reddish tops of some grasses, thick and whitish like morning cobwebs. The stillness is very soothing. 

This is a summer rain. The earth is being bedewed. There is no storm or violence to it. 

Health is a sound relation to nature.

Anychia plenty by the watering-place (with the am- phicarpaea), but calyx apparently not expanded. Amphiearpaea, not yet. 

Penthorum, three or four days. 

Xyris, apparently three or four days in meadow close by. Hardhack, two or three days. 

A hedyotis still. Elodea to-morrow. 

The red capsules of the Hypericum ellipticum, here and there. This one of the fall-ward phenomena in still rainy days.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 14, 1854

Awake to day of gentle rain, — very much needed; none to speak of for nearly a month. See July 13, 1854 (“In the midst of July heat and drought.”); August 19, 1854 ("There is now a remarkable drought.") September 10, 1854 ("September 1st and 2d, the thunder-shower of evening of September 6th, and this regular storm are the first fall rains after the long drought.”)

Health is a sound relation to nature. See July 12, 1851 ("Nature is in as rude health as when Homer sang. We may at last by our sympathies be well."); August 23, 1853 ("For all Nature is doing her best each moment to make us well. She exists for no other end. Do not resist her. "Nature" is but another name for health, and the seasons are but different states of health.”); December 16, 1853 ("Would you be well, see that you are attuned to each mood of nature");   May 28, 1854 (“To be serene and successful we must be at one with the universe”); June 5, 1854 (“I have come to this hill to see the sun go down, to recover sanity and put myself again in relation with Nature. ”);   Walden ("Nature is as well adapted to our weakness as to our strength.”); November 18, 1857 ("Sympathy with nature is an evidence of perfect health.”);  January 23, 1858 ("To insure health, a man’s relation to Nature must come very near to a personal one; . . . I do not see that I can live tolerably without affection for Nature.").

The red capsules of the Hypericum ellipticum. See July 19, 1856 ("It is the Hypericum ellipticum . . . whose red pods are noticed now.");July 26, 1856 ("The pod of the ellipticum, when cut, smells like a bee.") See also A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, St. Johns-wort (Hypericum)