April 24.
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| April 24, 2017 |
Now that the sun shines and the sky is blue, the water is a dark blue which in the storm was light or whitish. It follows the sky's, though the sky is a lighter blue.
The lilac buds have looked as forward as any for many weeks.
2 p. m. — To Carlisle Bridge via Flint's Bridge, bank of river, rear of Joel Barrett's, returning by bridle-road.
The elms are now fairly in blossom.
It is one of those clear, washing days, — though the air is cold, — such as succeed a storm, when the air is clear and flowing, and the cultivated ground and the roads shine.
Passed Flint's road on the wall.
Sorrel is well under weigh, and cinquefoil.
White oaks still hold their leaves.
The pitch pine is a cheerful tree at this season, with its lively yellow-green in the sunshine, while the landscape is still russet and dead-grass colored.
Sitting by the road beyond N. Barrett's, the colors of the world are:
- overhead a very light blue sky, darkest in the zenith, lightest in the horizon, with scattered white clouds seeming thickest in the horizon;
- all around the undulating earth a very light tawny color, from the dead grass, with the reddish and gray of forests mingled with evergreen;
- and, in the lap of earth, very dark blue rippled water, answering to the light blue above;
- the shadows of clouds flitting over all below;
- the spires of woods fringing the horizon on every side, and, nearer, single trees here and there seen with dark branches against the sky. T
- this tawny ground divided by walls and houses, white, light slate, and red sprinkled here and there.
Ball's Hill and the rest are deep sunk in the flood.
The level water-line appears to best advantage when it appears thus to cut the trees and hills. It looks as if the water were just poured into its basin and simply stood so high. No permanent shore gives you this pleasure.
Saw the honey-bees on the staminate flowers of the willow catkins by the roadside (such as I described April 23d), with little bottles of the yellow pollen, apparently, as big as pin-heads on their thighs. With these flowers, then, come bees. Is there honey in staminate flowers?
The innocent odor of spring flowers, flavorless, as a breakfast. They will be more spiced by and by.
Went over the cladonia hills toward Tarbell's.
A small tree, an oak for instance, looks large on a bare hilltop.
The farmers, whom the storm has delayed, are busily plowing and overhauling their manure.
Observed the ants at work on a large ant-heap. They plainly begin as soon as the snow is off and the ground thawed.
Gold-thread, an evergreen, still bright in the swamps.
The rattlesnake-plantain has fresh leaves.
A wall running over the top of a rocky hill, with the light seen through its chinks, has a pretty effect.
The sparrows, frogs, rabbits, etc., are made to resemble the ground for their protection; but so is the hawk that preys on them; but he is of a lighter color beneath, that creeping things over which he hovers may confound him with the sky. The marsh hawk is not easily distinguished from the meadow or the stems of the maples.
The water is still over the causeway on both sides of Carlisle Bridge for a long distance. It is a straight flood now for about four miles. Fortunately for the bridge the wind has not been very high since the flood was at its height.
The leaves of the hardhack, curled up, show their white under sides.
On the bridle-road observed the interesting light-crimson star-like flowers of the hazel, the catkins being now more yellowish.
This is a singular and interesting part of Concord, extensive and rather flat rocky pastures without houses or cultivated fields on any but this unused bridle-road, from which I hear the frogs peep. These are Channing's "moors." He went in on this road to chop, and this is the scene of his "Woodman."
Heard again (in the village) that vetter-vetter-vetter- vetter-vef, or tchi-tchi-tchi-tchi-tchi-tchi-tchi' very rapidly repeated, which I heard April 23d, and perhaps the same that I saw April 17th (described April 18th). I am pretty sure it is the pine warbler, yellow beneath, with faint olivaceous marks on the sides, olivaceous above, tail forked, about the size of a yellow-bird.
I have not seen the fox-colored sparrow for some weeks.
Thought I saw a loon on Walden yesterday.
H. D. Thoreau, Journal, April 24, 1852
The pitch pine is a cheerful tree at this season, with its lively yellow-green in the sunshine, , while the landscape is still russet and dead-grass colored. See April 24, 1857 ("Now the sun comes out and shines on the pine hill west of Ball's Hill, lighting up the light-green pitch pines and the sand and russet-brown lichen-clad hill. That is a very New England landscape.")See also April 11, 1852 ("The light of the setting sun on the pitch pines on Fair Haven and Bear Hill lights them up warmly.") and A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Pitch Pine.
The leaves of the hardhack, curled up, show their white under sides. See April 24, 1860 ("The meadow-sweet and hardhack have begun to leaf.”)
Saw the honey-bees on the staminate flowers of the willow catkins . . . with little bottles of the yellow pollen, apparently, as big as pin-heads on their thighs. See April 9, 1853 (“Bees also in the female willows, of course without pellets. It must be nectar alone there.”); April 17, 1855 (“A bee curved close on each half-opened catkin, intoxicated with its early sweet, —one perhaps a honey-bee, — so intent on its sweets or pollen that they do not dream of flying. Various kinds of bees — some of the honey bees — have little yellow masses of pollen on their thighs; some seem to be taking it into their mouths”)
Willows now in bloom
resound with the hum of bees
this warm afternoon.
See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Bees
I am pretty sure it is the pine warbler, yellow beneath, with faint olivaceous marks on the sides, olivaceous above, tail forked, about the size of a yellow-bird. See April 9, 1856 ("Its bright yellow or golden throat and breast, etc., are conspicuous at this season, — a greenish yellow above, with two white bars on its bluish-brown wings. It sits often with loose-hung wings and forked tail."); August 18, 1856 ("Clear-yellow throat and breast, greenish-yellow head, conspicuous white bar on wings, white beneath, forked tail, bluish legs. Can it be pine warbler? The note, thus faint, is not like it.")
I have not seen the fox-colored sparrow for some weeks. See April 24, 1855 ("Have not seen the F. hyemalis for a week.,"); April 17, 1855 ("A sudden warm day, like yesterday and this, takes off some birds and adds others. It is a crisis in their career. The fox-colored sparrows seem to be gone"). See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Fox-colored Sparrow.
Thought I saw a loon on Walden yesterday. See October 8, 1852 ("At length, having come up fifty rods off, he uttered one of those prolonged unearthly howls, as if calling on the god of loons to aid him, and immediately there came a wind from the east and rippled the surface, and filled the whole air with misty rain.")
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