Late November sail

November 30.

Sail down river. No ice, but strong cold wind; river slightly over meadows.  

Was that large diver which was on the edge of the shore and scooted away down-stream as usual, throwing the water about for a quarter of a mile, then diving, some time afterward flying up-stream over our head, the goosander or red-breasted merganser? It was large, with, I should say, a white breast, long reddish bill, bright-red or pink on sides or beneath, reddish-brown crest, white speculum, upper part of throat dark, lower white with breast.

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


Was that large diver the goosander or red-breasted merganser? Compare March 23, 1859 (“As we sit there, we see coming, swift and straight, northeast along the river valley, not seeing us and therefore not changing his course, a male goosander, so near that the green reflections of his head and neck are plainly visible. He looks like a paddle-wheel steamer, so oddly painted up, black and white and green, and moves along swift and straight like one. Ere long the same returns with his mate, the red-throated, the male taking the lead. ”); April 7, 1855 (“I plainly see the vermilion bill of the male and his orange legs when he flies (but he appears all white above), and the reddish brown or sorrel of the neck of the female, and, when she lifts herself in the water, as it were preparatory to flight, her white breast and belly. . . .I suspect that about all the conspicuous white ducks I see are goosanders.”) See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Sheldrake (Merganser, Goosander)

Clear bright comfortable weather

November 28. 

Paddled to Clamshell. Still very clear and bright as well as comfortable weather. River not so high as on the 16th. 

Were those plover which just after sunset flew low over the bank above the railroad and alighted in the opposite meadow, with some white in tails like larks?

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

The New York Opera

November 22.

Saw Greeley; Snow, the commercial editor of the Tribune; Solon Robinson; Fry, the musical critic, etc.; and others. Greeley carried me to the new opera house, where I heard Grisi and her troupe. 

First, at Barnum’s Museum, I saw the camelopards, said to be one eighteen the other sixteen feet high. I should say the highest stood about fifteen feet high at most (twelve or thirteen ordinarily). The body was only about five feet long. Why has it horns, but for ornament. 

Greeley appeared to know and be known by everybody; was admitted free to the opera, and we were led by a page to various parts of the house at different times.

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

Saw Greeley: Horace Greeley

Fry, the musical critic: William Henry Fry

Looked from the cupola of the State House

November 21, 2014

November 21. 

Looked from the cupola of the State House, where the Declaration of Independence was declared. The best view of the city I got.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, November 21, 1854

To Philadelphia

November 20.

7 A. M., to Boston; 9 A. M., Boston to New York, by express train, land route. Reached Canal Street at 5 P. M., or candle-light. Started for Philadelphia from foot of Liberty Street at 6 P. M., via Newark, etc., etc., Bordentown, etc., etc., Camden Ferry, to Philadelphia, all in the dark.  Arrive at 10 P.M.; time, four hours from New York, thirteen from Boston, fifteen from Concord.

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

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, November 20

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 ©  2009-2022

Sixty geese go over the Great Fields

November 18.

November 17, 1858

Sixty geese go over the Great Fields, in one waving line, broken from time to time by their crowding on each other and vainly endeavoring to form into a harrow, honking all the while.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, November 18, 1854
    
Sixty geese go over the Great Fields. . . endeavoring to form into a harrow . . . See November 13,  1855 ("seventy or eighty geese, in three harrows . . . gradually formed into one great one . . . shifting their places without slacking their progress.”); November 20, 1853 ("Methinks the geese are wont to go south just before a storm, and, in the spring, to go north just after one, say at the end of a long April storm.");  November 24, 1855 (" Geese went over on the 13th and 14th, on the 17th the first snow fell, and the 19th it began to be cold and blustering. ")

November birding

November 8.

I see a snipe-like bird by riverside this windy afternoon, which goes off with a sound like creaking tackle.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, November 8, 1854

See November 8, 1853 ("Birds generally wear the russet dress of nature at this season. They have their fall no less than the plants; the bright tints depart from their foliage or feathers, and they flit past like withered leaves in rustling flocks.")

It is suddenly cold.

November 6.

Surveying on Colburn place. 

It is suddenly cold. Pools frozen so as to bear, and ground frozen so that it is difficult, if not impossible, to force down a stake in plowed ground. 

Was that a fish hawk I saw flying over the Assabet, or a goshawk? White beneath, with slender wings.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, November 6, 1854

It is suddenly cold. Pools frozen so as to bear. . . See November 19, 1855 (" A cold, gray day, once spitting snow. Water froze in tubs enough to bear last night. ")

Singing now by wood-sides

November 5.

I think it is the fox-colored sparrow I see in flocks and hear sing now by wood-sides.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, November 5, 1854

See October 28, 1857 (“On the causeway I see fox-colored sparrows flitting along in the willows and alders, uttering a faint cheep, and tree sparrows with them. ”) See also  A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Fox-colored Sparrow.

The shad-bush buds have expanded into small leaflets already.

November 4.

November 4, 2014

Saw a shrike in an apple tree, with apparently a worm in its mouth. 

The shad-bush buds have expanded into small leaflets already. 


This while surveying on the old Colburn farm.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, November 4, 1854

Shad-bush buds have expanded into small leaflets ...  See November 1, 1853 (I notice the shad-bush conspicuously leafing out. Those long, narrow, pointed buds, prepared for next spring, have anticipated their time. I noticed some thing similar when surveying the Hunt wood-lot last winter.)

Double shadow, upside down!

November 2. 

August 16, 1854

Sailing past the bank above the railroad, just before a clear sundown, close to the shore on the east side I see a second fainter shadow of the boat, sail, myself, and paddle, etc., directly above and upon the first on the bank. 

What makes the second? At length I discovered that it was the reflected sun which cast a higher shadow like the true one. As I moved to the west side, the upper shadow rose, grew larger and less perceptible; and at last when I was so near the west shore that I could not see the reflected sun, it disappeared; but then there appeared one upside down in its place!

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

See August 16, 1854 ("At the steam mill sand-bank is the distinct shadow of our shadows, — first on the water, then the double one on the bank bottom to bottom, one being upside down, — three in all, — one on water, two on land or bushes.");October 18, 1853("Returning late, we see a double shadow of ourselves and boat, one, the true, quite black, the other directly above it and very faint, on the willows and high bank.") and August 31, 1852 ("I observe, on the willows on the east shore, the shadow of my boat and self and oars, upside down...")

November arrives

November 1. 
It is a little cooler.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, November 1, 1854