I have not seen a tree sparrow, I think, since December.
5.30 A. M. — To Pinxter Swamp over Hill.
A little sunshine at the rising. I, standing by the river, see it first reflected from E. Wood’s windows before I can see the sun.
Standing there, I hear that same stertorous note of a frog or two as was heard the 13th, apparently from quite across all this flood, and which I have so often observed before. What kind is it? It seems to come from the edge of the meadow, which has been recently left bare. Apparently this low sound can be heard very far over the water.
The robins sing with a will now. What a burst of melody! It gurgles out of all conduits now; they are choked with it. There is such a tide and rush of song as when a river is straightened between two rocky walls. It seems as if the moming’s throat were not large enough to emit all this sound.
The robin sings most before 6 o’clock now. I note where some suddenly cease their song, making a quite remarkable vacuum.
As I walk along the bank of the Assabet, I hear the yeep yeep yeep yeeep yeeep yeep, or perhaps peop, of a fish hawk, repeated quite fast, but not so shrill and whistling as I think I have heard it, and directly I see his long curved wings undulating over Pinxter Swamp, now flooded.
From the hilltop I see bare ground appearing in ridges here and there in the Assabet meadow.
A grass-bird, with a sort of spot on its breast, sings, here here hé, che che che, chit chit chit, t’ chip chip chip chip chip. The latter part especially fast.
The F. juncorum says, phe phe phe phe ph-ph-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p, faster and faster; flies as I advance, but is heard distinctly still further off.
A moist, misty, rain-threatening April day. About noon it does mizzle a little. The robin sings throughout it. It is rather raw, tooth-achy weather.
P. M. —Round Walden.
The Stellaria media is abundantly out. I did not look for it early, it was so snowy. It evidently blossomed as soon after the 2d of April—when I may say the snow began to go off in earnest—as possible. The shepherd’s-purse, too, is well out, three or four inches high, and may have been some days at least.
Cheney’s elm shows stamens on the warm side pretty numerously. Probably that at Lee’s Cliff a little earlier.
Plowing and planting are now going on commonly. As I go down the railroad, I see two or three teams in the fields. Frost appears to be out of most soil.
I see a pine warbler, much less yellow than the last, searching about the needles of the pitch and white pine. Its note is somewhat shorter, -- a very rapid and continuous trill or jingle which I remind myself of by wetter wetter wetter wetter wet’, emphasizing the last syllable.
Walden is still covered with ice, which is still darker green and more like water than before. A large tract in the middle is of a darker shade and particularly like water. Mr. Emerson told me yesterday that there was a large tract of water in the middle! This ice trembles like a batter for a rod around when I throw a stone on to it. One as big as my fist, thrown high, goes through. It appears to be three or four inches thick. It extends quite to the shore on the north side - and is there met by snow.
The needles of the pines still show where they were pressed down by the great burden of snow last winter. I see a maple twig eaten off by a rabbit four and a quarter feet from the ground, showing how high the snow was there.
Golden saxifrage at Hubbard’s Close.
Frogs sit round Callitriche Pool, where the tin is cast. We have waste places — pools and brooks, etc., -— where to cast tin, iron, slag, crockery, etc. No doubt the Romans and Ninevites had such places. To what a perfect system this world is reduced! A place for everything and everything in its place!
H. D. Thoreau, Journal, April 16, 1856
Walden is still covered with ice. See April 13, 1856 ("dark-green clear ice,...quite hard still. At a little distance you would mistake it for water; further off still . . .it is blue as in summer.“). Only in 1852 did Walden’s ice last past April 16th. See Walden ("In 1845 Walden was first completely open on the 1st of April; in '46, the 25th of March; in '47, the 8th of April; in '51, the 28th of March; in '52, the 18th of April; in '53, the 23rd of March; in '54, about the 7th of April.) See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Ice-Out
I see a pine warbler, much less yellow than the last. See April 9, 1856 ("Its bright yellow or golden throat and breast, etc., are conspicuous at this season.”) See also A Book of the Seasons, the Pine Warbler.
Callitriche Pool, where the tin is cast. See April 16, 1855 ("This pool dries up in summer. The very pools, the receptacles of all kinds of rubbish, now, soon after the ice has melted, so transparent and of glassy smoothness and full of animal and vegetable life, are interesting and beautiful objects.”)
The Stellaria media and shepherd’s-purse out. See April 2, 1856 ("Some of the earliest plants are now not started because covered with snow, as the stellaria and shepherd’s purse.”); April 14, 1855 ("Most of the stellaria has been winter-killed, but I find a few flowers on a protected and still green sprig, probably not blossomed long.”); April 25, 1855 ("Shepherd’s-purse will bloom to-day”).
Cheney’s elm shows stamens on the warm side pretty numerously. Probably that at Lee’s Cliff a little earlier. See April 17, 1855 (“The flowers of the common elm at Lee’s are now loose and dangling, apparently well out a day or two in advance of Cheney’s, but I see no pollen. ”)
The Stellaria media and shepherd’s-purse out. See April 2, 1856 ("Some of the earliest plants are now not started because covered with snow, as the stellaria and shepherd’s purse.”); April 14, 1855 ("Most of the stellaria has been winter-killed, but I find a few flowers on a protected and still green sprig, probably not blossomed long.”); April 25, 1855 ("Shepherd’s-purse will bloom to-day”).
Cheney’s elm shows stamens on the warm side pretty numerously. Probably that at Lee’s Cliff a little earlier. See April 17, 1855 (“The flowers of the common elm at Lee’s are now loose and dangling, apparently well out a day or two in advance of Cheney’s, but I see no pollen. ”)
The robins sing with a will now. The robin sings most before 6 o’clock now. See April 16, 1855 (The robins, etc., blackbirds, song sparrows sing now on all hands just before sunrise, perhaps quite as generally as at any season"")See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Robins in Spring
A quarter moon in the sky
follows us back through the old growth trees
coming home after our walk at dusk,
orange sky in the west,
to end a perfect day, we hear
the first hermit thrush,.
astonishing.
astonishing.
April 16, 2016 zphx
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