I survey to a white oak called in ’91 “a small white oak.”

December 4. 

Surveying the Richardson Fair Haven lot. 

December 4, 2017

Rufus Morse, who comes to find his bounds on R., accounts for his deed being tattered by saying that some tame flying squirrels got loose and into a chest where he kept his papers and nibbled them, though the lid was not raised enough to get in a cent! They are so flat. 

I survey to a white oak called in ’91 “a small white oak.”

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, December 4, 1857

December 4. SeeA Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, December 4; A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, I love you like I love the sky

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

I turn the porch light on. It is dark when I leave. The car is covered with frost. It’s 24°. Driving down the road there is fog. Everything is covered with frost. It is imperceptible when I begin to see the road from the light of the dawn. And now the mountains edged in pink against what is going to be clear blue sky. Turning the corner in East Middlebury a full moon in the northwest horizon. Frosty fields, shapely maples against the sky. The sun far to the south now appearing and disappearing behind the mountain.The rising sun casts long shadows over the whitened field. I breathe the frosty air.

 December 4, 2017