A dextrous barberry-picker

September 18. 

P. M. — By boat to Conantum, barberrying.

Diplopappus linariifolius in prime.

River gone down more than I expected after the great rise, to within some eighteen inches of low-water mark, but on account of freshet I have seen no Bidens Beckii nor chrysanthemoides nor Polygonum amphibium var. aquaticum in it, nor elsewhere the myriophyllums this year.


The witch-hazel at Conantum just begun here and there; some may have been out two or three days. It is apparently later with us than the fringed gentian, which I have supposed was out by September 7th. Yet I saw the witch-hazel out in Brattleboro September 8th, then apparently for a day or two, while the Browns thought the gentian was not out. It is still a question, perhaps, though unquestionably the gentian is now far more generally out here than the hazel. 

Lespedezas, violacea, hirta, Stuvei, etc., — at Blackberry Steep, done. 

Solidago caesia in prime at Bittern Cliff Wood. 

The barberries are not fairly turned, but I gather them that I may not be anticipated, — a peck of large ones. 

I strip off a whole row of racemes at one sweep, bending the prickles and getting as few leaves as possible, so getting a handful at once. The racemes appear unusually long this season, and the berries large, though not so thick as I have seen them. I consider myself a dextrous barberry-picker, as if I had been born in the Barberry States. A pair of gloves would be convenient, for, with all my knack, it will be some days before I get all the prickles out of my fingers. 

I get a full peck from about three bushes. 

Scared up the same flock of four apparent summer ducks, which, what with myself, a belated (in season) haymaker, and a fisherman above, have hardly a resting-place left. The fisherman takes it for granted that I am after ducks or fishes, surely. 

I see no traces of frost yet along the river. See no pontederia fall, for they are covered with water. 

The Cornus sericea is most changed and drooping. Smilacina berries of both kinds now commonly ripe, but not so edible as at first, methinks.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, September 18, 1856

Diplopappus linariifolius in prime. See July 7, 1855 [Cape cod] ("Just south of the lighthouse near the bank on a steep hillside, the savory-leaved aster (Diplopappus linarifolius) . . . not yet out.");  August 3, 1858 ("Savory-leaved aster.");  August 4, 1851 ("a bluish 'savory-leaved aster.'");August 16, 1856 (" Diplopappus linariifolius, apparently several days. "); August 22, 1859 ("The savory-leaved aster (Diplopappus linariifolius) out; how long?"); September 18, 1856 ("Diplopappus linariifolius in prime.");  September 29, 1853 ("Diplopappus linariifolius, Aster undulatus, and a few small ones"); October 10, 1858 ("Pulling up some Diplopappus linariifolius, now done, I find many bright-purple shoots, a half to three quarters of an inch long, freshly put forth underground and ready to turn upward and form new plants in the spring."); October 12, 1858 ("With man all is uncertainty. He does not confidently look forward to another spring. But examine the root of the  savory-leaved aster, and you will find the new shoots, fair purple shoots, which are to curve upward and bear the next year’s flowers, already grown half an inch or more in earth. Nature is confident."); November 7, 1858 ("The Diplopappus linariifolius, which was yellow in the shade, in open and sunny places is purple."); December 26, 1855 (“Weeds in the fields and the wood-paths are the most interesting. Here are asters, savory-leaved, whose flat imbricated calyxes, three quarters of an inch over, are surmounted and inclosed in a perfectly transparent icebutton, like a glass knob, through which you see the reflections of the brown calyx.”); see also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Savory-leaved aster

The gentian is now far more generally out here than the hazel. See September 18, 1854 ("Fringed gentian near Peter’s out a short time, . . ., it may after all be earlier than the hazel.”); September 18, 1859 ("From the observation of this year I should say that the fringed gentian opened before the witch-hazel,. . .”) See also A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau: The Fringed Gentian

The barberries are not fairly turned . . . See September 13, 1856 ("Barberries. . . already handsomely red, though not much more than half turned”) and September 13, 1852 ("The barberries, now reddening, begin to show.”).

With all my knack, it will be some days before I get all the prickles out of my fingers. See September 25, 1855 ("We get about three pecks of barberries from four or five bushes, but I fill my fingers with prickles to pay for them.”)

The fisherman takes it for granted that I am after ducks or fishes, surely. See June 26, 1853 ("Fishing is often the young man's introduction to the forest and wild. As a hunter and fisher he goes thither until at last the naturalist or poet distinguishes that which attracted him first, and he leaves the gun and rod behind.”)