P. M. — Down railroad, measuring snow, and to Fair Haven Hill.
How rapidly the snow has melted on the east side of the railroad causeway. The east side of railroad is a peculiarly sheltered place and hence bare, while the earth generally is covered. It has melted at about the same rate west of railroad and in Trillium Woods since the 19th. We have had none since March 20th, and that was very moist and soon melted.
It is a question'whether it is better sleighing or wheeling now, taking all our roads together. At any rate we may say the sleighing lasted till April.
In some places it still fills the roads level with the walls, and bears me up still in the middle of the day. It grows more and more solid, apparently freezing at night quite through.
William Wheeler (of the Corner road) tells me that he was surprised to find that it would bear his oxen where three or four feet deep behind his house.
William Wheeler (of the Corner road) tells me that he was surprised to find that it would bear his oxen where three or four feet deep behind his house.
On some roads you walk in a path recently shovelled out, with upright walls of snow three or four feet high on each side and a foot of snow beneath you.
The drifts on the east side of the depot, which have lain there a great part of the winter, still reach up to the top of the first pane of glass.
But, generally speaking, we slump so much, especially in the woods, except in the morning, and the snow is so deep, that we are confined to the roads or the river still. Choppers cannot work in the woods yet, and teams cannot get in for wood yet.
This old snow is solid and icy and wastes very slowly. It seems to be gradually turning to ice. I observe that, while the snow has melted unevenly in waves and ridges, there is a transparent icy glaze about one sixteenth of an inch thick but as full of holes as a riddle, spread like gauze level over all, resting on the prominent parts of the snow, leaving hollows beneath from one inch to six or more inches in depth. I often see the spiders running underneath this.
But, generally speaking, we slump so much, especially in the woods, except in the morning, and the snow is so deep, that we are confined to the roads or the river still. Choppers cannot work in the woods yet, and teams cannot get in for wood yet.
This old snow is solid and icy and wastes very slowly. It seems to be gradually turning to ice. I observe that, while the snow has melted unevenly in waves and ridges, there is a transparent icy glaze about one sixteenth of an inch thick but as full of holes as a riddle, spread like gauze level over all, resting on the prominent parts of the snow, leaving hollows beneath from one inch to six or more inches in depth. I often see the spiders running underneath this.
This is the surface, which has melted and formed an icy crust, and, being transparent, it has transmitted the heat to the snow beneath and has outlasted that. This crashes and rattles under your feet.
The bare places now are the steep south and west, or southwest, sides of hills and cliffs, and also next to woods and houses on the same sides, the bridges and brows of hills and slighter ridges and prominences in the fields, low open ground protected from the northwest wind, under trees, etc.
Going by the path to the Springs, I find great beds of oak leaves, sometimes a foot thick, very dry and crisp and filling the path, or one side of it, in the woods for a quarter of a mile, inviting one to lie down.
The bare places now are the steep south and west, or southwest, sides of hills and cliffs, and also next to woods and houses on the same sides, the bridges and brows of hills and slighter ridges and prominences in the fields, low open ground protected from the northwest wind, under trees, etc.
Going by the path to the Springs, I find great beds of oak leaves, sometimes a foot thick, very dry and crisp and filling the path, or one side of it, in the woods for a quarter of a mile, inviting one to lie down.
They have absorbed the heat and settled, like the single one seen yesterday, in mass a foot or more, making a path to that depth. Yet when they are unusually thick they preserve the snow beneath and are found to cover an almost icy mound.
H. D. Thoreau, Journal, April 1, 1856
H. D. Thoreau, Journal, April 1, 1856
No comments:
Post a Comment