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.
Henry Thoreau, August 24, 1852
Foliage changes
several shades darker in the rain
seen while still cloudy.
May 19, 1853
Nature advances
with such unobserved dispatch –
not an instant's pause.
Shadows of bright clouds
sweep over the meadow-grass
waving in the wind.
May 19, 2014
Thunder-showers in the night, and it still storms. . . . A May storm, gentle and rather warm. May 19, 1853
There is a strong southwest wind after the rain, rather novel and agreeable, blowing off some apple blossoms. May 19, 1860
This is the season when the meadow-grass is seen waving in the wind at the same time that the shadows of clouds are passing over it. May 19, 1860
The grass, especially the meadow-grasses, are seen to wave distinctly, and the shadows of the bright fair-weather cumuli are sweeping over them like the shades of a watered or changeable stuff — June like. May 19, 1860
Sorrel just begins to redden some fields. May 19, 1860
There appears to be quite a variety in the colors of the Viola cucullata. Some dark-blue, if not lilac, some with a very dark blue centre and whitish circumference, others dark-blue within and dark without, others all very pale blue. May 19, 1858
Stellaria borealis well out, apparently several days. May 19, 1858
At the Ministerial Swamp I see a white ladys-slipper almost out, fully grown, with red ones. May 19, 1860
The days of the golden willow are over for this season; their withered catkins strew the cause ways and cover the water and also my boat, which is moored beneath them. May 19, 1853
The locust has grown three inches and is blossom-budded. May 19, 1853
The hazel is now a pretty green bush. May 19, 1854
The white pine shoots are now two or three inches long generally, — upright light marks on the body of dark green. May 19, 1854
See a green snake, a very vivid yellow green, of the same color with the tender foliage at present, and as if his colors had been heightened by the rain. May 19, 1860
The foliage of the young maples, elms, etc., in the street has become, since the rain commenced, several shades darker, changing from its tender and lighter green. May 19, 1853
It is best observed while it is still cloudy; almost a bluish, no longer yellowish green, it is peculiarly rich. The very grass appears to have undergone a similar change. May 19, 1853
It is a warm, muggy, rainy evening, when the nighthawks commonly spark and the whip-poor-will is heard. May 19, 1859
I hear the sprayey-note frog now at sunset. May 19, 1854
Lightning here this evening and an aurora in form of a segment of a circle. May 19, 1852
Nature advances without an instant's pause. See September 17, 1839 ("Nature never makes haste; her systems revolve at an even pace. The bud swells imperceptibly, without hurry or confusion, as though the short spring days were an eternity."); May 23, 1841 ("All nature is a new impression every instant"); August 19, 1851 ("Nature rests no longer at her culminating point than at any other."); September 13, 1852 ("Nature never lost a day, nor a moment . . .The plant waits a whole year, and then blossoms the instant it is ready and the earth is ready for it, without the conception of delay."); September 24, 1859 ("Great works of art have endless leisure for a background, as the universe has space. Time stands still while they are created. The artist cannot be in [a] hurry. The earth moves round the sun with inconceivable rapidity, and yet the surface of the lake is not ruffled by it."); November 8, 1860 ("Consider how persevering Nature is, and how much time she has to work in, though she works slowly."); January 14, 1861 ("Nature is slow but sure; she works no faster than need be.")
A May storm, gentle and rather warm. See May 17, 1853 ("Does not summer begin after the May storm?”) and note to May 18, 1853 ("Perchance a May storm is brewing. This day it has mizzled . . . Methinks this is common at this season of the tender foliage.")
Shadows of the bright fair-weather cumuli. See May 30, 1852 (“A breezy, washing day. A day for shadows, even of moving clouds, over fields in which the grass is beginning to wave.”)
R. repens . . . is a dense bed of yellow now. I am struck by the light spot in the sinuses of the leaves. See May 17, 1853 ("The Ranunculus repens perhaps yesterday, with its spotted leaves and its not recurved calyx though furrowed stem.")
The days of the golden willow are over for this season. Compare May 14, 1852 ("Going over the Corner causeway, the willow blossoms fill the air with a sweet fragrance, and I am ready to sing, Ah! willow, willow! These willows have yellow bark, bear yellow flowers and yellowish-green leaves, and are now haunted by the summer yellowbird and Maryland yellow-throat") See also A Book of Seasons, by Henry Thoreau. Willows on the Causeway.
The grass, especially the meadow-grasses, are seen to wave distinctly, and the shadows of the bright fair-weather cumuli are sweeping over them like the shades of a watered or changeable stuff — June like. May 19, 1860
Sorrel just begins to redden some fields. May 19, 1860
I do not see a single shad-bush in bloom across the pond, where they had just fairly begun on the 6th. May 19, 1860
With what unobserved secure dispatch nature advances! The amelanchiers have bloomed, and already both kinds have shed their blossoms and show minute green fruit. There is not an instant's pause! May 19, 1854
There appears to be quite a variety in the colors of the Viola cucullata. Some dark-blue, if not lilac, some with a very dark blue centre and whitish circumference, others dark-blue within and dark without, others all very pale blue. May 19, 1858
To Everett Spring . . . What I called the Ranunculus bulbosus there May 3d proves to be the R. repens. It would appear then to be the earliest ranunculus. It is a dense bed of yellow now. I am struck by the light spot in the sinuses of the leaves. May 19, 1858
Stellaria borealis well out, apparently several days. May 19, 1858
At the Ministerial Swamp I see a white ladys-slipper almost out, fully grown, with red ones. May 19, 1860
The days of the golden willow are over for this season; their withered catkins strew the cause ways and cover the water and also my boat, which is moored beneath them. May 19, 1853
The locust has grown three inches and is blossom-budded. May 19, 1853
The hazel is now a pretty green bush. May 19, 1854
The white pine shoots are now two or three inches long generally, — upright light marks on the body of dark green. May 19, 1854
The lilac has begun to blossom. May 19, 1852
Wood pewee. May 19, 1856
The tanager is now heard plainly and frequently. May 19, 1856
Hear and see a yellow-throated vireo, which methinks I have heard before. May 19, 1856
Heard the night-warbler begin his strain just like an oven-bird! I have noticed that when it drops down into the woods it darts suddenly one side to a perch when low. May 19, 1858
The robin's nest and eggs are the earliest I see. May 19, 1854
As I sail up the reach of the Assabet above Dove Rock with a fair wind, a traveller riding along the highway is watching my sail while he hums a tune. . . . As he looked at my sail, I listened to his singing. May 19, 1856
Wood pewee. May 19, 1856
The tanager is now heard plainly and frequently. May 19, 1856
Hear and see a yellow-throated vireo, which methinks I have heard before. May 19, 1856
Heard the night-warbler begin his strain just like an oven-bird! I have noticed that when it drops down into the woods it darts suddenly one side to a perch when low. May 19, 1858
The robin's nest and eggs are the earliest I see. May 19, 1854
As I sail up the reach of the Assabet above Dove Rock with a fair wind, a traveller riding along the highway is watching my sail while he hums a tune. . . . As he looked at my sail, I listened to his singing. May 19, 1856
Saw a small striped snake in the act of swallowing a Rana palustris, within three feet of the water. The snake, being frightened, released his hold, and the frog hopped off to the water. May 19, 1856
See a green snake, a very vivid yellow green, of the same color with the tender foliage at present, and as if his colors had been heightened by the rain. May 19, 1860
The foliage of the young maples, elms, etc., in the street has become, since the rain commenced, several shades darker, changing from its tender and lighter green. May 19, 1853
It is best observed while it is still cloudy; almost a bluish, no longer yellowish green, it is peculiarly rich. The very grass appears to have undergone a similar change. May 19, 1853
It is a warm, muggy, rainy evening, when the nighthawks commonly spark and the whip-poor-will is heard. May 19, 1859
I hear the sprayey-note frog now at sunset. May 19, 1854
Lightning here this evening and an aurora in form of a segment of a circle. May 19, 1852
*****
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Reminiscence and Prompting
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The world can never be more beautiful than now.
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Spring Leaf-out
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Shad-bush, Juneberry, or Service-berry (Amelanchier canadensis)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Willows on the Causeway
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Hazel
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Violet
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Wood Sorrel
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Ranunculus Repens
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Birds of May
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Oven-bird
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Eastern Wood Pewee
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Scarlet Tanager
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Robin in Spring
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Nighthawk
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Striped Snake
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Nature
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, There was an artist in the City of Kouroo
May 19, 2024
Nature advances without an instant's pause. See September 17, 1839 ("Nature never makes haste; her systems revolve at an even pace. The bud swells imperceptibly, without hurry or confusion, as though the short spring days were an eternity."); May 23, 1841 ("All nature is a new impression every instant"); August 19, 1851 ("Nature rests no longer at her culminating point than at any other."); September 13, 1852 ("Nature never lost a day, nor a moment . . .The plant waits a whole year, and then blossoms the instant it is ready and the earth is ready for it, without the conception of delay."); September 24, 1859 ("Great works of art have endless leisure for a background, as the universe has space. Time stands still while they are created. The artist cannot be in [a] hurry. The earth moves round the sun with inconceivable rapidity, and yet the surface of the lake is not ruffled by it."); November 8, 1860 ("Consider how persevering Nature is, and how much time she has to work in, though she works slowly."); January 14, 1861 ("Nature is slow but sure; she works no faster than need be.")
There is a stong southwest wind after the rain, rather novel and agreeable, blowing off some apple blossoms. See May 20, 1854 ("Methinks we always have at this time those washing winds as now, when the choke-berry is in bloom, — bright and breezy days blowing off some apple blossoms.”); May 27 1852 ("The road is white with the apple blossoms fallen off, as with snowflakes.”); June 1, 1855 ("A very windy day, . . . scattering the remaining apple blossoms.”)
Shadows of the bright fair-weather cumuli. See May 30, 1852 (“A breezy, washing day. A day for shadows, even of moving clouds, over fields in which the grass is beginning to wave.”)
R. repens . . . is a dense bed of yellow now. I am struck by the light spot in the sinuses of the leaves. See May 17, 1853 ("The Ranunculus repens perhaps yesterday, with its spotted leaves and its not recurved calyx though furrowed stem.")
The locust has grown three inches and is blossom-budded. See June 7, 1854 ("The locusts so full of pendulous white racemes five inches long, filling the air with their sweetness and resounding with the hum of humble and honey bees"); June 9, 1852 ("The locust in bloom"); June 11, 1856 ("The locust in graveyard shows but few blossoms yet.")
Hear and see a yellow-throated vireo, which methinks I have heard before. See May 27, 1854 ("I see and hear the yellow-throated vireo. It is somewhat similar (its strain) to that of the red-eye, prelia pre-li-ay, with longer intervals and occasionally a whistle like tlea tlow, or chowy chow, or tully ho on a higher key.”)
Heard the night-warbler begin his strain just like an oven-bird! Thoreau's night-warbler is likely the oven-bird making its flight call. According to Emerson the night warbler is "a bird he had never identified, had been in search of twelve years, which always, when he saw it, was in the act of diving down into a tree or bush.” See May 8, 1860 ("The night-warbler's note."); May 9, 1852 ("Heard the night warbler.”); May 9, 1853 ("Again I think I heard the night-warbler.”); May 10, 1854 ("Heard the night-warbler. “); May 12, 1857 ("A night-warbler, plainly light beneath. It always flies to a new perch immediately after its song");. May 13, 1855 ("At 9.30 P.M. I hear from our gate my night-warbler. Never heard it in the village before.”); May 14, 1852 (“Most birds are silent in the storm.Hear the robin, oven-bird, night warbler, and [etc.]); May 16, 1858 ("Hear the night-warbler"); May 17, 1858 ("Just after hearing my night-warbler I see two birds on a tree. ...[One perhaps golden-crowned thrush. ]”); May 28, 1854 ("The night-warbler, after his strain, drops down almost perpendicularly into a tree-top and is lost.”).
Heard the night-warbler begin his strain just like an oven-bird! Thoreau's night-warbler is likely the oven-bird making its flight call. According to Emerson the night warbler is "a bird he had never identified, had been in search of twelve years, which always, when he saw it, was in the act of diving down into a tree or bush.” See May 8, 1860 ("The night-warbler's note."); May 9, 1852 ("Heard the night warbler.”); May 9, 1853 ("Again I think I heard the night-warbler.”); May 10, 1854 ("Heard the night-warbler. “); May 12, 1857 ("A night-warbler, plainly light beneath. It always flies to a new perch immediately after its song");. May 13, 1855 ("At 9.30 P.M. I hear from our gate my night-warbler. Never heard it in the village before.”); May 14, 1852 (“Most birds are silent in the storm.Hear the robin, oven-bird, night warbler, and [etc.]); May 16, 1858 ("Hear the night-warbler"); May 17, 1858 ("Just after hearing my night-warbler I see two birds on a tree. ...[One perhaps golden-crowned thrush. ]”); May 28, 1854 ("The night-warbler, after his strain, drops down almost perpendicularly into a tree-top and is lost.”).
A traveller riding along the highway is watching my sail while he hums a tune. See March 26, 1855 ("Sail down to the Great Meadows. A strong wind with snow driving from the west and thickening the air. The farmers pause to see me scud before it."); April 18, 1856 ("The farmer neglects his team to watch my sail."); September 27, 1858 ("The farmers digging potatoes on shore pause a moment to watch my sail and bending mast.")
Saw a small striped snake in the act of swallowing a Rana palustris, The snake, being frightened, released his hold, and the frog hopped off to the water. See August 23, 1851 ("He had a toad in his jaws, which he was preparing to swallow with his jaws distended to three times his width, but he relinquished his prey in haste and fled"); July 23, 1856 ("Saw . . . a small bullfrog in the act of swallowing a young but pretty sizable apparently Rana palustris, . . . I sprang to make him disgorge, but it was too late to save him. ")
Saw a small striped snake in the act of swallowing a Rana palustris, The snake, being frightened, released his hold, and the frog hopped off to the water. See August 23, 1851 ("He had a toad in his jaws, which he was preparing to swallow with his jaws distended to three times his width, but he relinquished his prey in haste and fled"); July 23, 1856 ("Saw . . . a small bullfrog in the act of swallowing a young but pretty sizable apparently Rana palustris, . . . I sprang to make him disgorge, but it was too late to save him. ")
When the nighthawks commonly spark. See May 16, 1859 (“At eve the first spark of a nighthawk.”)
May 19, 2014
If you make the least correctobservation of nature this year,you will have occasion to repeat itwith illustrations the next,and the season and life itself is prolonged.
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 © 2009-2024
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