Friday, July 18, 2014

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

No comments:

Post a Comment

Popular Posts Last 30 Days.

The week ahead in Henry’s journal

The week ahead in Henry’s journal
A journal, a book that shall contain a record of all your joy.
"A stone fruit. Each one yields me a thought." ~ H. D. Thoreau, March 28, 1859


I sit on this rock
wrestling with the melody
that possesses me.