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
I reach the hilltop
at quarter to five sunrise
o'er a sea of fog.
I would be present with
these virgin shades of the year –
the birth of shadow.
To be present at
the first expansion of leaves –
the birth of shadow.
The waves as I look
toward the sun sparkle with so
bright and white a light.
June 2, 1860
 |
| June 2, 2018 |
I would fain be present at the birth of shadow. It takes place with the first expansion of the leaves. June 2, 1854
These virgin shades of the year, when everything is tender, fresh and green, — how full of promise! June 2, 1854
First come first served. . . . You must taste the first glass of the day's nectar, if you would get all the spirit of it. June 2, 1853
3.30 A.M.- When I awake I hear the low universal chirping or twittering of the chip-birds, like the bursting bead on the surface of the uncorked day. June 2, 1853
The birds are wide awake, as if knowing that this fog presages a fair day. June 2, 1853
4 A.M. - To Nawshawtuct. I go to the river in a fog through which I cannot see more than a dozen rods . . .. As I row down the stream, the dark, dim outlines of the trees on the banks appear, coming to meet me out of the mist. June 2, 1853
Now I have reached the hill top above the fog at a quarter to five, about sunrise, and all around me is a sea of fog, level and white, reaching nearly to the top of this hill, only the tops of a few high hills appearing as distant islands in the main. It resembles nothing so much as the ocean June 2, 1853
Now, at 5.15, . . the sun reflected from the river makes a bright glow in the fog, and now, at 5.30, I see the green surface of the meadows and the water through the trees, sparkling with bright reflections. June 2, 1853
I look now from the yard to the waving and slightly glaucous-tinged June meadows, edged by the cool shade of shrubs and trees. June 2, 1854
Now, at 5.15, . . the sun reflected from the river makes a bright glow in the fog, and now, at 5.30, I see the green surface of the meadows and the water through the trees, sparkling with bright reflections. June 2, 1853
I look now from the yard to the waving and slightly glaucous-tinged June meadows, edged by the cool shade of shrubs and trees. June 2, 1854
Are these not kingbird days, when, in clearer first June days full of light, this aerial, twittering bird flutters from willow to willow and swings on the twigs, showing his white-edged tail? June 2, 1854
The Azalea nudiflora now in its prime. What splendid masses of pink! with a few glaucous green leaves sprinkled here and there —just enough for contrast. June 2, 1855 – To Azalea nudiflora, which is in prime. June 2, 1856
Ranunculus recurvatus the same; how long? June 2, 1856
Buttercups now spot the churchyard. June 2, 1852
Milkweed, butter-and-eggs, etc., etc. are getting up. June 2, 1852
Low blackberry in bloom. June 2, 1852
Red maple seed is partly blown off. Some of it is conspicuously whitish or light-colored on the trees. June 2, 1859
White maple keys conspicuous. June 2, 1856
Strawberries reddening on some hills June 2, 1859
See Camilla on rye, undulating light and shade.. June 2, 1856
Hemlock leafed two or three days, the earliest young plants. June 2, 1855
The black spruce beyond the hill has apparently just begun to leaf, but not yet to blossom June 2, 1855
Pinus rigida pollen a day or two or three on the plain. June 2, 1855
Equisetum limosum pollen — a few — apparently two or three days. June 2, 1855
Sweet flag pollen about two days. June 2, 1855
Female sassafras in bloom. June 2, 1852
Silene, or wild pink, how long? June 2, 1855
Golden alexanders - looks like a parsnip - near or beyond the East Quarter schoolhouse. June 2, 1852
Myrica cerifera, possibly yesterday. Very few buds shed pollen yet; more, probably, to-day. Leaves nearly an inch long, and shoot and all no more. June 2, 1856
Geraniums bring thunder. June 2, 1857
English hawthorn will open apparently in two days. June 2, 1856
The late crataegus on the hill is in full bloom while the other is almost entirely out of bloom. June 2, 1855
Sterile buttonwood, not yet generally, but some apparently several days at least. June 2, 1857
The grass is flaming up through the shallow water on the meadows. June 2, 1857
I see in the meadow-grass a fine cob web or spider’s nest three or four inches [in] diameter and, within it, on two twigs, two collections of little yellowish spiders containing a thousand or more, about half - as big as a pin-head, like minute fruit-buds or kernels clustered on the twig. June 2, 1855
Examine a small striped snake, some sixteen inches long. June 2, 1859
From that cocoon of the Attacus cecropia . . . , came out this forenoon a splendid moth. . . .
It was surprising to see the creature unfold and expand before our eyes. . . .and at dusk, when apparently it was waving its wings preparatory to its evening flight, I gave it ether and so saved it in a perfect state. June 2, 1855
I hear that Farmer shot on the 28th ult. two marsh hawks, male and female, and got their four eggs, in which the young were moving. June 2, 1859
The dried brown petals of apple blossoms spot the sod in pastures. June 2, 1852
Mr. Hoar tells me that Deacon Farrar’s son tells him that a white robin has her nest on an apple tree near their house. Her mate is of the usual color. June 2, 1855
Nest of Wilson's thrush with bluish-green eggs. June 2, 1852
A young sparrow already flies. June 2, 1857
A tanager yesterday. June 2, 1857
Saw most hummingbirds when cherries were in bloom, — on them. June 2, 1856
Found within three rods of Flint's Pond a rose-breasted grosbeak's nest. . . .The egg is thickly spotted with reddish brown on a pale-blue ground, like a hermit thrush's, but rounder; very delicate. June 2, 1859
The male uttered a very peculiar sharp clicking or squeaking note of alarm while I was near the nest. June 2, 1859
The Azalea nudiflora now in its prime. What splendid masses of pink! with a few glaucous green leaves sprinkled here and there —just enough for contrast. June 2, 1855 – To Azalea nudiflora, which is in prime. June 2, 1856
Clintonia borealis, a day or two.
This is perhaps the most interesting and neatest of what I may call the liliaceous (?) plants we have. June 2, 1853
clintonia borealis June 1, 2017
(avesong)
This is perhaps the most interesting and neatest of what I may call the liliaceous (?) plants we have. June 2, 1853
Ranunculus recurvatus the same; how long? June 2, 1856
Buttercups now spot the churchyard. June 2, 1852
Milkweed, butter-and-eggs, etc., etc. are getting up. June 2, 1852
Low blackberry in bloom. June 2, 1852
Red maple seed is partly blown off. Some of it is conspicuously whitish or light-colored on the trees. June 2, 1859
White maple keys conspicuous. June 2, 1856
Strawberries reddening on some hills June 2, 1859
See Camilla on rye, undulating light and shade.. June 2, 1856
Hemlock leafed two or three days, the earliest young plants. June 2, 1855
The black spruce beyond the hill has apparently just begun to leaf, but not yet to blossom June 2, 1855
Pinus rigida pollen a day or two or three on the plain. June 2, 1855
Equisetum limosum pollen — a few — apparently two or three days. June 2, 1855
Sweet flag pollen about two days. June 2, 1855
Female sassafras in bloom. June 2, 1852
Silene, or wild pink, how long? June 2, 1855
Golden alexanders - looks like a parsnip - near or beyond the East Quarter schoolhouse. June 2, 1852
Myrica cerifera, possibly yesterday. Very few buds shed pollen yet; more, probably, to-day. Leaves nearly an inch long, and shoot and all no more. June 2, 1856
Geraniums bring thunder. June 2, 1857
English hawthorn will open apparently in two days. June 2, 1856
The late crataegus on the hill is in full bloom while the other is almost entirely out of bloom. June 2, 1855
Sterile buttonwood, not yet generally, but some apparently several days at least. June 2, 1857
The grass is flaming up through the shallow water on the meadows. June 2, 1857
I see in the meadow-grass a fine cob web or spider’s nest three or four inches [in] diameter and, within it, on two twigs, two collections of little yellowish spiders containing a thousand or more, about half - as big as a pin-head, like minute fruit-buds or kernels clustered on the twig. June 2, 1855
Examine a small striped snake, some sixteen inches long. June 2, 1859
 |
| June 2, 2018 |
From that cocoon of the Attacus cecropia . . . , came out this forenoon a splendid moth. . . .
It was surprising to see the creature unfold and expand before our eyes. . . .and at dusk, when apparently it was waving its wings preparatory to its evening flight, I gave it ether and so saved it in a perfect state. June 2, 1855
I hear that Farmer shot on the 28th ult. two marsh hawks, male and female, and got their four eggs, in which the young were moving. June 2, 1859
The dried brown petals of apple blossoms spot the sod in pastures. June 2, 1852
Mr. Hoar tells me that Deacon Farrar’s son tells him that a white robin has her nest on an apple tree near their house. Her mate is of the usual color. June 2, 1855
Nest of Wilson's thrush with bluish-green eggs. June 2, 1852
A young sparrow already flies. June 2, 1857
A tanager yesterday. June 2, 1857
Saw most hummingbirds when cherries were in bloom, — on them. June 2, 1856
Found within three rods of Flint's Pond a rose-breasted grosbeak's nest. . . .The egg is thickly spotted with reddish brown on a pale-blue ground, like a hermit thrush's, but rounder; very delicate. June 2, 1859
The male uttered a very peculiar sharp clicking or squeaking note of alarm while I was near the nest. June 2, 1859
Now that the season is advanced, migrating birds have gone to the extreme north or gone to the mountain tops. June 2, 1858
I hear a very faint and slight sound once, and suspect a screech owl, which I after see on an oak. I soon hear its mournful scream, probably to its mate, not loud now, but, though within twenty or thirty rods, sounding a mile off. June 2, 1860
That bobolink's song affected me as if one were endeavoring to keep down globes of melody within a vase full of liquid, but some bubbled up irrepressible, — kept thrusting them down with a stick, but they slipped and came up one side.
The past has been Anniversary Week in Boston, and there have been several rainy or cloudy days. . . . This Anniversary Week is said to be commonly rainy. June 2, 1860
The air has now begun to be filled with a bluish haze. June 2, 1854
Water-bugs dimple the surface now quite across the river, in the moonlight, for it is a full moon. June 2, 1860
Bats go over, and a kingbird, very late. June 2, 1860
A cool evening. A cold, white twilight sky after the air has been cleared by rain, and now the trees are seen very distinctly against it, - not yet heavy masses of verdure, but a light openwork, the leaves being few and small yet, as regularly open as a sieve. June 2, 1860
Low blackberry in bloom. See note to June 1, 1860 (“Many low blackberry flowers at Lee's Cliff.”)
A spider's nest...containing a thousand or more. See June 8, 1860 ("I see a small mist of cobweb, globular, on a dead twig eight inches above the ground in the wood-path...., and when I disturb it I see it swarming with a mass of a thousand minute spiders.")
Ether. See May 12, 1851("If you have an inclination to travel, take the ether; you go beyond the furthest star.")
The Azalea nudiflora See ;May 31, 1853 ("I am going in search of the Azalea nudiflora."); May 17, 1854 (Azalea nudiflora in woods begins to leaf now"); May 29, 1855 ("Azalea nudiflora in garden"); May 25, 1856 ("Azalea nudiflora in garden.")
White maple keys conspicuous. See May 29, 1854 ("The white maple keys have begun to fall and float down the stream like the wings of great insects.”)J;une 6, 1855 ("The white maple keys are about half fallen. It is remarkable that this happens at the time the emperor moth (cecropia) comes out.");
The ancestors of this bird [ the dark-eyed junco] had evidently perceived on their flight northward that here was a small piece of arctic region, containing all the conditions they require, — coolness and suitable food, etc., etc., –and so for how long have builded here. For ages they have made their home here with the Arenaria Graenlandica and Potentilla tridentata. They discerned arctic isles sprinkled in our southern sky. June 2, 1858
I hear a very faint and slight sound once, and suspect a screech owl, which I after see on an oak. I soon hear its mournful scream, probably to its mate, not loud now, but, though within twenty or thirty rods, sounding a mile off. June 2, 1860
That bobolink's song affected me as if one were endeavoring to keep down globes of melody within a vase full of liquid, but some bubbled up irrepressible, — kept thrusting them down with a stick, but they slipped and came up one side.
The past has been Anniversary Week in Boston, and there have been several rainy or cloudy days. . . . This Anniversary Week is said to be commonly rainy. June 2, 1860
The air has now begun to be filled with a bluish haze. June 2, 1854
The evergreens are very dark and heavy. June 2, 1860
The elms now hold a good deal of shade and look rich and heavy with foliage. You see darkness in them. June 2, 1852
Hazy days now. June 2, 1852
The wind shakes the house night and day. June 2, 1855
It is very warm till 3 p. m., and then a washing breeze arises, and before night probably distant thunder-showers have cooled the air, for after dark we see the flashes called heat lightning in the north, and hear the distant thunder. June 2, 1857
The impurities have all come down out of the air. June 2, 1860
The elms now hold a good deal of shade and look rich and heavy with foliage. You see darkness in them. June 2, 1852
Hazy days now. June 2, 1852
The wind shakes the house night and day. June 2, 1855
It is very warm till 3 p. m., and then a washing breeze arises, and before night probably distant thunder-showers have cooled the air, for after dark we see the flashes called heat lightning in the north, and hear the distant thunder. June 2, 1857
The impurities have all come down out of the air. June 2, 1860
There is a lively and washing northwest wind after the rain. The waves are breaking on this shore with a swash. The air is cleansed and clear, and the waves, as I look toward the sun, sparkle with so bright and white a light, - so peculiarly fresh and bright. June 2, 1860
When we returned to our boat at 7 p. m., I noticed first, to my surprise, that the river was all alive with leaping fish. . .. Looking up I found that the whole atmosphere over the river was full of shad-flies. It was a great flight of ephemera. June 2, 1854
When we returned to our boat at 7 p. m., I noticed first, to my surprise, that the river was all alive with leaping fish. . .. Looking up I found that the whole atmosphere over the river was full of shad-flies. It was a great flight of ephemera. June 2, 1854
Water-bugs dimple the surface now quite across the river, in the moonlight, for it is a full moon. June 2, 1860
Bats go over, and a kingbird, very late. June 2, 1860
A cool evening. A cold, white twilight sky after the air has been cleared by rain, and now the trees are seen very distinctly against it, - not yet heavy masses of verdure, but a light openwork, the leaves being few and small yet, as regularly open as a sieve. June 2, 1860
***
I would fain be present at the birth of shadow. See May 17, 1852 ("The birch leaves are so small that you see the landscape through the tree, and they are like silvery and green spangles in the sun, fluttering about the tree.”); May 21, 1860 ("Noticed the shadows of apple trees yesterday”); May 24, 1860 (“I notice the first shadows of hickories, - not dense and dark shade, but open-latticed, a network of sun and shadow on the north sides of the trees.”); June 4, 1860 (" . . . a grateful but thin shade, like a coarsefb sieve, so open that we see the fluttering of each leaf in its shadow.”); June 11, 1856 (“I observe and appreciate the shade, as it were the shadow of each particular leaf on the ground..”).
The air is cleansed and clear, and the waves sparkle with so bright and white a light. Compare June 9, 1852 ("For a week past we have had washing days. . . . The weather is very clear, and the sky bright. The river shines like silver.”); June 23, 1852 ("It is an agreeably cool and clear and breezy day, when all things appear as if washed bright and shine, . . . The air is cleared and cooled by yesterday's thunder-storms. The river too has a fine, cool, silvery sparkle or sheen on it.”)
That bobolink's song affected me. See June 1, 1857 (“I hear the note of a bobolink concealed in the top of an apple tree behind me. . . . Methinks they are the most liquidly sweet and melodious sounds I ever heard.”); May 16, 1854 ("The earth is all fragrant as one flower. And bobolinks tinkle in the air. Nature now is perfectly genial to man.”) and note to May 12, 1856 (“We hear the first bobolink. . . How much life the note of the bobolink imparts to the meadow! ”)
A rose-breasted grosbeak's nest. . . .The male uttered a very peculiar sharp clicking or squeaking note of alarm while I was near the nest. See May 25, 1854 ("Hear and see . . . the rose-breasted grosbeak, a handsome bird with a loud and very rich song, in character between that of a robin and a red-eye. . . . Rose breast, white beneath, black head and above, white on shoulder and wings.")
Ranunculus recurvatus [in prime] . . . See May 26, 1855 ("Ranunculus recurvatus at Corner Spring up several days at least; pollen.")
Buttercups now spot the churchyard. See May 27, 1853 ("The buttercups in the church-yard and on some hillsides are now looking more glossy and bright than ever after the rain."); May 28, 1851 ("The buttercups spot the churchyard."); May 30, 1857 ("Buttercups thickly spot the churchyard.");
The air is cleansed and clear, and the waves sparkle with so bright and white a light. Compare June 9, 1852 ("For a week past we have had washing days. . . . The weather is very clear, and the sky bright. The river shines like silver.”); June 23, 1852 ("It is an agreeably cool and clear and breezy day, when all things appear as if washed bright and shine, . . . The air is cleared and cooled by yesterday's thunder-storms. The river too has a fine, cool, silvery sparkle or sheen on it.”)
That bobolink's song affected me. See June 1, 1857 (“I hear the note of a bobolink concealed in the top of an apple tree behind me. . . . Methinks they are the most liquidly sweet and melodious sounds I ever heard.”); May 16, 1854 ("The earth is all fragrant as one flower. And bobolinks tinkle in the air. Nature now is perfectly genial to man.”) and note to May 12, 1856 (“We hear the first bobolink. . . How much life the note of the bobolink imparts to the meadow! ”)
A rose-breasted grosbeak's nest. . . .The male uttered a very peculiar sharp clicking or squeaking note of alarm while I was near the nest. See May 25, 1854 ("Hear and see . . . the rose-breasted grosbeak, a handsome bird with a loud and very rich song, in character between that of a robin and a red-eye. . . . Rose breast, white beneath, black head and above, white on shoulder and wings.")
Ranunculus recurvatus [in prime] . . . See May 26, 1855 ("Ranunculus recurvatus at Corner Spring up several days at least; pollen.")
Buttercups now spot the churchyard. See May 27, 1853 ("The buttercups in the church-yard and on some hillsides are now looking more glossy and bright than ever after the rain."); May 28, 1851 ("The buttercups spot the churchyard."); May 30, 1857 ("Buttercups thickly spot the churchyard.");
Low blackberry in bloom. See note to June 1, 1860 (“Many low blackberry flowers at Lee's Cliff.”)
A spider's nest...containing a thousand or more. See June 8, 1860 ("I see a small mist of cobweb, globular, on a dead twig eight inches above the ground in the wood-path...., and when I disturb it I see it swarming with a mass of a thousand minute spiders.")
Ether. See May 12, 1851("If you have an inclination to travel, take the ether; you go beyond the furthest star.")
The Azalea nudiflora See ;May 31, 1853 ("I am going in search of the Azalea nudiflora."); May 17, 1854 (Azalea nudiflora in woods begins to leaf now"); May 29, 1855 ("Azalea nudiflora in garden"); May 25, 1856 ("Azalea nudiflora in garden.")
White maple keys conspicuous. See May 29, 1854 ("The white maple keys have begun to fall and float down the stream like the wings of great insects.”)J;une 6, 1855 ("The white maple keys are about half fallen. It is remarkable that this happens at the time the emperor moth (cecropia) comes out.");
The birds are wide awake, as if knowing that this fog presages a fair day. See July 22, 1851 (“These are our fairest days, which are born in a fog.”); July 25, 1852 (“his is one of those ambosial, white, ever-memorable fogs presaging fair weather”)
Clintonia borealis.. See August 27, 1856 ("the peculiar large dark blue indigo clintonia berries of irregular form and dark-spotted, in umbels of four or five on very brittle stems ")
Clintonia borealis.. See August 27, 1856 ("the peculiar large dark blue indigo clintonia berries of irregular form and dark-spotted, in umbels of four or five on very brittle stems ")
Heat lightning in the north, and hear the distant thunder. See June 16, 1852 (“Heat lightning in the horizon. A sultry night. A flute from some villager.”)
When we returned to our boat at 7 p. m . . .It was a great flight of ephemera. See June 8, 1856 (“my boat being by chance at the same place where it was in ’54, I noticed a great flight of ephemera”); June 9, 1854 ("7 p. m. — Up Assabet. . . .[T]here is an incessant sound made by the fishes leaping for their evening meal, dimpling the river like large drops as far as I can see . ..”); June 9, 1856 ("Again, about seven, the ephemera came out, in numbers as many as last night, ...; and the fishes leap as before. . . . “); June 15,1850(“I observe to-night, June 15th, the air over the river by the Leaning Hemlocks filled with myriads of newly fledged insects drifting and falling as it were like snow-flakes from the maples, only not so white. Now they drift up the stream, now down, while the river below is dimpled with the fishes rising to swallow the innumerable insects which have fallen [into] it and are struggling with it.”)
Water-bugs dimple the surface now quite across the river, in the moonlight, for it is a full moon. See June 30,1852 (“I see the bright curves made by the water-bugs in the moonlight . . .now at 9 o'clock. ”); August 8, 1851 (“As I recross the string-pieces of the bridge, I see the water-bugs swimming briskly in the moonlight . . .”)
When we returned to our boat at 7 p. m . . .It was a great flight of ephemera. See June 8, 1856 (“my boat being by chance at the same place where it was in ’54, I noticed a great flight of ephemera”); June 9, 1854 ("7 p. m. — Up Assabet. . . .[T]here is an incessant sound made by the fishes leaping for their evening meal, dimpling the river like large drops as far as I can see . ..”); June 9, 1856 ("Again, about seven, the ephemera came out, in numbers as many as last night, ...; and the fishes leap as before. . . . “); June 15,1850(“I observe to-night, June 15th, the air over the river by the Leaning Hemlocks filled with myriads of newly fledged insects drifting and falling as it were like snow-flakes from the maples, only not so white. Now they drift up the stream, now down, while the river below is dimpled with the fishes rising to swallow the innumerable insects which have fallen [into] it and are struggling with it.”)
Water-bugs dimple the surface now quite across the river, in the moonlight, for it is a full moon. See June 30,1852 (“I see the bright curves made by the water-bugs in the moonlight . . .now at 9 o'clock. ”); August 8, 1851 (“As I recross the string-pieces of the bridge, I see the water-bugs swimming briskly in the moonlight . . .”)
June 2, 2017
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.
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 © 2009-2022
No comments:
Post a Comment