December 9.
A cold morning.
What is that green pipes on the side-hill at Nut Meadow on his land, looking at first like green-briar cut off? It forms a dense bed about a dozen rods along the side of the bank in the woods, a rod in width, rising to ten or twelve feet above the swamp.
White Pond mostly skimmed over.
The scouring-rush is as large round as a bulrush, forming dense green beds conspicuous and interesting above the snow, an evergreen rush.
H. D. Thoreau, Journal, December 9, 1854
White Pond mostly skimmed over. See December 9, 1859 (“The river and Fair Haven Pond froze over generally last night,”); December 9, 1856 ("There is scarcely a particle of ice in Walden yet"); see also December 11, 1854 (“C. says he found Fair Haven frozen over last Friday, i. e. the 8th. I find Flint’s frozen to-day, and how long?”) and A Book of Seasons, by Henry Thoreau: First Ice.
New and collected mind-prints. by Zphx. Following H.D.Thoreau 170 years ago today. Seasons are in me. My moods periodical -- no two days alike.
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"A stone fruit. Each one yields me a thought." ~ H. D. Thoreau, March 28, 1859
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