The flags are turned yellow along the river.

September 2.

The second still, misty, mizzling and rainy day. We all lie abed late.

September 2, 2014

P. M. — By boat to Purple Utricularia Shore. Still and cloudy, all shut in, but no rain. 

The flags are turned yellow along the river, quite an autumnal scene, with commonly a strip of green left in their centres.  The button-bushes are generally yellowing, i. e., are of an autumnal yellowish green. The black willows are decidedly crisped and yellowish. The interrupted fern begins to yellow. The autumnal dandelion is conspicuous on the shore.

Bathe at Hubbard’s. The water is surprisingly cold on account of the cool weather and rain, but especially since the rain of yesterday morning. It is a very important and remarkable autumnal change. It will not be warm again probably.

The moderate mizzling rain of yesterday and to-day is the first since that moderate one of August 4th. Yet this brings down leaves, cools the rivers and ponds, and brings back ducks and other migratory birds.

The fires in woods and meadows have been remarkably numerous and extensive all over the country, the earth and vegetation have been so dry, especially along railroads and on mountains and pine plains. Some meadows are said to have been burned three feet deep! On some mountains it burns all the soil down to the rock. In all villages they smell smoke, especially at night. On Lake Champlain, the pilots of steam boats could hardly see their course, and many complained that the smoke made their eyes smart and affected their throats. Bears, it is said, have in some instances been compelled to migrate.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, September 2, 1854

The autumnal dandelion is conspicuous on the shore. See September 1, 1859 ("The autumnal dandelion is a prevailing flower now, but since it shuts up in the afternoon it might not be known as common unless you were out in the morning or in a dark afternoon")

The fires in woods and meadows have been remarkably numerous . . .  See  August  26, 1854 (“I hear of a great many fires around us, far and near, both meadows and woods; in Maine and New York also.”); September 25, 1854 (“I see several smokes in the distance, of burning brush. . . . I now smell strongly the smoke of this burning half a mile off, though it is scarcely perceptible in the air.”)