ZtonePhruit: A Book of the Seasons: March 25

Friday, March 25, 2016

The red maple buds
already redden the swamps
and the riverside.
March 25, 1853

Willows near Mill Brook
surprise me at a distance--
green, yellowish, red!
March 25, 1854

Cold and windy.

Too cold and windy
almost for ducks.
March 25, 1854

Cold and blustering.

The ditches open last year

are still frozen up.

You might frequently say

of a poet away from home

that he was as mute as a bird of passage

uttering a mere chip from time to time --

but follow him to his true habitat

and you shall not know him

he will sing so melodiously.

March 25, 1858

The what what what what

of the nuthatch is much like

the flicker's cackle

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.

April 7, 1853

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau
"A book, each page written in its own season,
out-of-doors, in its own locality.”