A Book of the Seasons: October 13.

October 13.

Always the center

the pond is now framed with the

autumn-tinted woods.

October 13, 1852

Water is always

the center of a landscape

however distant.

October 13, 1852

A clear and warm day

chickadees take heart and sing

above these warm rocks.

October 13, 1852

Indian summer day.
Chickadees take heart and sing

above these warm rocks.
October 13, 1852

The leafless maples
on the edge of the meadow
look like wisps of smoke.
October 13, 1852

The basswood is bare.
The maples now stand like smoke 
along the meadows.
October 13, 1855

The burnt out maples
have begun to fall and look
smoky in the swamps.
October 13, 1857

Looking from this hill

green begins to be as rare

as any color.

October 13, 1857

The elms are half bare.
Elm leaves thickly strew the street 
and rattle underfoot. 
October 13, 1858

As if it were spring
the shad-bush is leafing by
the sunny swamp-side.
October 13, 1859

Frost strips the maples.
Their leaves now strew the swamp floor
and conceal the pools.
October 13 1860

Now, as soon as the frost strips the maples, and their leaves strew the swamp floor and conceal the pools, the note of the chickadee sounds cheerfully winteryish. October 13 1860

October 13, 2017

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 © 2009-2018