There is a season
when daily we expect spring.
To-day it arrives.
March 10, 1853Drizzling and misty
weather almost April-like.
Expect to hear geese.
March 10, 1854
"I respect the skunk
as a human being in a
very humble sphere."
To-day they are here
and yesterday they were not.
First water bugs out.
March 10, 1855
The snow hard and dry
now squeaking under the feet –
excellent sleighing.
March 10, 1856
The weather is almost April-like. We always have much of this rainy, drizzling, misty weather in early spring, after which we expect to hear geese. March 10, 1854
But you think, They have come, and Nature cannot recede . . . to-day they are here and yesterday they were not. March 10, 1855
It is thus when I hear the first robin or bluebird or, looking along the brooks, see the first water-bugs out circling.
You are always surprised by the sight of the first spring bird or insect; they seem premature, and there is no such evidence of spring as themselves, so that they literally fetch the year about. March 10, 1855
At the end of winter there is a season in which are are daily expecting spring, and finally a day when it arrives. March 10, 1853
At the end of winter there is a season in which are are daily expecting spring, and finally a day when it arrives. March 10, 1853
The earth is perhaps two thirds bare to-day. March 10, 1852
Methinks the first obvious evidence of spring is the pushing out of the swamp willow catkins, then the relaxing of the earlier alder catkins, then the pushing up of skunk-cabbage spathes (and pads at the bottom of water). March 10, 1853
By John Hosmer's ditch by the riverside I see the skunk-cabbage springing freshly, the points of the spathes just peeping out of the ground. March 10, 1853
Thermometer at 7 A. M. 6° below zero.. . . Thermometer +9° at 3.30 P. M. (the same when I return at five). The snow hard and dry, squeaking under the feet; excellent sleighing. March 10, 1856
10 P. M.—Thermometer at zero. March 10, 1856
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau~edited, assembled and rewritten by zphx © 2009-2018
"A book, each page written in its own season,
out-of-doors, in its own locality.”
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