The year is but a succession of days,
and I see that I could assign some office to each day
which, summed up, would be the history of the year.
October 30, 2018
Rain and wind bring down
the leaves and destroy what’s left
of the brilliancy.
October 30, 1858
The fall has ended.
This is November landscape
prepared for winter.
October 30, 1853
Now is the time -- now
when leaves have fairly fallen --,
to look at the buds.
October 30, 1853
I see that scarlet
oak leaves have still some brightness --
the latest of the oaks.
October 30, 1855
Scarlet oaks wither
slowly and retain brightness
to mid-November.
October 30, 1858
There’s a very large
and complete circle around
the moon this evening
October 30, 1857
We begin to look
to the sunset for color
and variety.
October 30, 1853
Another, the eighth, day of cloudy weather, though no rain to-day. October 30, 1857
A white frost this morning, lasting late into the day. This has settled the accounts of many plants which lingered still. October 30, 1853
Saw a Solidago nemoralis in full flower yesterday. October 30, 1853
Here is the autumnal dandelion and fragrant ever lasting to-day. October 30, 1853
Here is the autumnal dandelion and fragrant ever lasting to-day. October 30, 1853
Rain and wind, bringing down the leaves and destroying the little remaining brilliancy. October 30, 1858
Near the island, in my boat, I scare up a bittern (Ardea minor), and afterward half a dozen ducks, probably summer ducks October 30, 1857
What with the rains and frosts and winds, the leaves have fairly fallen now. You may say the fall has ended. Those which still hang on the trees are withered and dry. October 30, 1853
I am surprised at the change since last Sunday. Looking at the distant woods, I perceive that there is no yellow nor scarlet there now . . . The autumnal tints are gone. October 30, 1853
The woods have for the most part acquired their winter aspect, and coarse, rustling, light-colored withered grasses skirt the river and the wood-side. October 30, 1853
This is November. The landscape prepared for winter, without snow. October 30, 1853
When the forest and fields put on their sober winter hue, we begin to look more to the sunset for color and variety. October 30, 1853
Near the island, in my boat, I scare up a bittern (Ardea minor), and afterward half a dozen ducks, probably summer ducks October 30, 1857
The muskrat-houses are mostly covered with water now. October 30, 1853
Saw a large flock of blackbirds yesterday. October 30, 1857
I see tree sparrows in loose flocks, chasing one an other, on the alders and willows by the brook-side. October 30, 1853 .
By the bathing-place, I see a song sparrow with his full striped breast. He drops stealthily behind the wall and skulks amid the bushes; now sits behind a post, and peeps round at me, October 30, 1853
I am surprised at the change since last Sunday. Looking at the distant woods, I perceive that there is no yellow nor scarlet there now . . . The autumnal tints are gone. October 30, 1853
The woods have for the most part acquired their winter aspect, and coarse, rustling, light-colored withered grasses skirt the river and the wood-side. October 30, 1853
This is November. The landscape prepared for winter, without snow. October 30, 1853
When the forest and fields put on their sober winter hue, we begin to look more to the sunset for color and variety. October 30, 1853
The buttonwoods are in the midst of their fall. Some are bare. They-are late among the trees of the street. October 30, 1858
Going to the new cemetery, I see that the scarlet oak leaves have still some brightness; perhaps the latest of the oaks. October 30, 1855
The scarlet oak especially withers very slowly and gradually, and retains some brightness to the middle of November, October 30, 1858
The larger red maple buds have now two sets of scales, three in each. October 30, 1853
Now, now is the time to look at the buds of the swamp-pink,— some yellowish, some, mixed with their oblong seed-vessels, red, etc. October 30, 1853
Along the Depot Brook, the great heads of Aster puniceus stand dry and fuzzy and singularly white, — like the goldenrods and other asters. October 30, 1853
The prevalence of this light, dry color perhaps characterizes November, — that of bleaching withered grass, of the fuzzy gray goldenrods, harmonizing with the cold sunlight, and that of the leaves which still hang on deciduous trees. October 30, 1853
The prevalence of this light, dry color perhaps characterizes November, — that of bleaching withered grass, of the fuzzy gray goldenrods, harmonizing with the cold sunlight, and that of the leaves which still hang on deciduous trees. October 30, 1853
There’s a very large and complete circle round the moon this evening, which part way round is a faint rainbow. It is a clear circular space, sharply and mathematically cut out of a thin mackerel sky. October 30, 1857
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Scarlet Oak
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Autumnal Dandelion
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Swamp-pink
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Alders
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Song Sparrow
October 12, 1851 ("The swamp-pink buds begin to show.")October 13, 1857 ("Large flock of tree sparrows, very lively and tame, drifting along and pursuing each other along a bushy fence and ditch like driving snow.")
October 16, 1857 ("I saw some blackbirds, apparently grackles, singing, after their fashion, on a tree by the river. October 16, 1857")
October 22, 1857 ("Blackbirds go over, chattering")
October 27, 1853 ("Song sparrows flitting about, with the three spots on breast")
October 27, 1858 (“Countless sedges and grasses ...become pale-brown and bleached after the frost has killed them, and give that peculiar light, almost silvery, sheen to the fields in November.”)
October 28, 1852 ("November the month of withered leaves and bare twigs and limbs.");
October 29, 1855 ("A flock of blackbirds fly eastward over my head from the top of an oak, either red-wings or grackles.")
October 29, 1857 ("The river is very high for the season and all over the meadow in front of the house, and still rising. Many are out (as yesterday) shooting musquash")
October 29, 1858 ("Notwithstanding the few handsome scarlet oaks that may yet be found, and the larches and pitch pines and the few thin-leaved Populus grandidentata, the brightness of the foliage, generally speaking, is past ")
October 31, 1858 ("As I sit on the Cliff there, the sun is now getting low, and the woods in Lincoln south and east of me are lit up by its more level rays, and there is brought out a more brilliant redness in the scarlet oaks, scattered so equally over the forest, than you would have believed was in them. Every tree of this species which is visible in these directions, even to the horizon, now stands out distinctly red.")
November 1, 1858 ("If you wish to count the scarlet oaks. do it now. Stand on a hilltop in the woods, when the sun is an hour high and the sky is clear, and every one within range of your vision will be revealed")
November 2, 1851 ("The muskrat-houses are mostly covered by the rise of the river! — not a very unexpected one either. ")
November 2, 1853("Among the buds, etc., etc., to be noticed now, remember the alder and birch catkins, so large and conspicuous, — on the alder, pretty red catkins dangling in bunches of three or four")
November 3, 1852 ("[November] is the month of withered oak leaves.")
November 3, 1853 ( There are two or three tree sparrows flitting and hop ping along amid the alders and willows, with their fine silvery tchip, unlike the dry loud chip of the song sparrow. ")
October 27, 1858 (“Countless sedges and grasses ...become pale-brown and bleached after the frost has killed them, and give that peculiar light, almost silvery, sheen to the fields in November.”)
October 28, 1852 ("November the month of withered leaves and bare twigs and limbs.");
October 29, 1855 ("A flock of blackbirds fly eastward over my head from the top of an oak, either red-wings or grackles.")
October 29, 1857 ("The river is very high for the season and all over the meadow in front of the house, and still rising. Many are out (as yesterday) shooting musquash")
October 29, 1858 ("Notwithstanding the few handsome scarlet oaks that may yet be found, and the larches and pitch pines and the few thin-leaved Populus grandidentata, the brightness of the foliage, generally speaking, is past ")
October 31, 1858 ("As I sit on the Cliff there, the sun is now getting low, and the woods in Lincoln south and east of me are lit up by its more level rays, and there is brought out a more brilliant redness in the scarlet oaks, scattered so equally over the forest, than you would have believed was in them. Every tree of this species which is visible in these directions, even to the horizon, now stands out distinctly red.")
November 1, 1858 ("If you wish to count the scarlet oaks. do it now. Stand on a hilltop in the woods, when the sun is an hour high and the sky is clear, and every one within range of your vision will be revealed")
November 2, 1851 ("The muskrat-houses are mostly covered by the rise of the river! — not a very unexpected one either. ")
November 2, 1853("Among the buds, etc., etc., to be noticed now, remember the alder and birch catkins, so large and conspicuous, — on the alder, pretty red catkins dangling in bunches of three or four")
November 3, 1852 ("[November] is the month of withered oak leaves.")
November 3, 1853 ( There are two or three tree sparrows flitting and hop ping along amid the alders and willows, with their fine silvery tchip, unlike the dry loud chip of the song sparrow. ")
November 3, 1852 ("[November] is the month of withered oak leaves.")
November 4, 1860 ("To-day also I see distinctly the tree sparrows, and probably saw them, as supposed, some days ago. Thus the birch begins to shed its seed about the time our winter birds arrive from the north.")
November 4, 1860 ("To-day also I see distinctly the tree sparrows, and probably saw them, as supposed, some days ago. Thus the birch begins to shed its seed about the time our winter birds arrive from the north.")
November 5, 1855 (" Swamp-pink buds now begin to show.")
November 6, 1853 ("The red maple buds, showing three or more sets of scales. ")
November 8, 1857 ("The swamp-pink's large yellowish buds, too, are conspicuous now.")
November 11, 1851 ("The fall of the year is over, and now let us see if we shall have any Indian summer.)
November 8, 1857 ("The swamp-pink's large yellowish buds, too, are conspicuous now.")
November 11, 1851 ("The fall of the year is over, and now let us see if we shall have any Indian summer.)
October 30, 2015
If you make the least correct
observation of nature this year,
you will have occasion to repeat it
with illustrations the next,
and the season and life itself is prolonged.
October 29 <<<<<<<<< October 30 >>>>>>>> October 31
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, October 30
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
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