September 30, 2020
Insects in my path –
each has a special errand
in this world, this hour.
that flowers bloom and bloom late
too in favored spots.
September 30, 1852
a day or two ago have
already shed leaves.
already shed leaves.
September 30, 1854
Acorns in my path
crushed by feet and wheels -- the ground
Acorns in my path
crushed by feet and wheels -- the ground
is now strewn with them.
September 30, 1854
Steel-bluish purple
nightshade, seen against the sun,
its veins full of fire.
September 30, 1858
September 30, 1854
Steel-bluish purple
nightshade, seen against the sun,
its veins full of fire.
September 30, 1858
Early in the day
distinct shadows of the cliffs --
our spirits buoyant.
Though we walk all day
it seems the days are not long
enough to get tired .
Glassy smooth river --
leaping fish or insect makes
a sparkle on it.
Greener than ever
by contrast, evergreen ferns
since the severe frost.
growing more and more distinct.
A cooler season.
September 30, 1859
Friday. Saw a large flock of black ducks flying northwest in the form of a harrow. September 30, 1853
I feel the richer for this experience. September 30, 1852
It taught me that even the insects in my path are not loafers, but have their special errands. Not merely and vaguely in this world, but in this hour, each is about its business. September 30, 1852
It is not in vain that the flowers bloom, and bloom late too, in favored spots. September 30, 1852
I am surprised to see that some red maples, which were so brilliant a day or two ago, have already shed their leaves, and they cover the land and the water quite thickly. I see a countless fleet of them slowly carried round in the still bay by the Leaning Hemlocks. September 30, 1854
Walking early in the day and approaching the rocky shore from the north, the shadows of the cliffs were very distinct and grateful and our spirits were buoyant. Though we walked all day, it seemed the days were not long enough to get tired in. September 30, 1858
I observe the peculiar steel-bluish purple of the nightshade, i. e. the tips of the twigs, while all beneath is green, dotted with bright berries, over the water. Perhaps this is the most singular color of any autumnal tint. It is almost black in some lights, distinctly steel-blue in the shade and contrasting with the green beneath, but, seen against the sun, it is a rich purple, its veins full of fire. September 30, 1858
Ever since the unusually early and severe frost of the 16th, the evergreen ferns have been growing more and more distinct amid the fading and decaying and withering ones, and the sight of those suggests a cooler season. They are greener than ever, by contrast. September 30, 1859
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 © 2009-2019
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