You must be outdoors long, early and late, and travel far and earnestly, in order to perceive the phenomena of the day.

September 13.

P. M. — Up Assabet. 

The Bidens chrysanthemoides, now apparently in its prime by the river, now almost dazzles you with its great sunny disk. I feast my eyes on it annually. It grows but sparingly near the village, but those few never fail to make their appearance at last. The yellow lily's is a cool yellow in comparison, but in this is seen the concentrated heat of autumn. 

Now, while other fruits are ripe or ripening, I see the great peduncle of the peltandra, eighteen or twenty- four inches long, curving downward, with its globular mass of green fruit, often two inches in diameter, at the end, looking like slung shot. This mass of viscid seeds or nuts must be the food of many creatures. 

Also the pontederia spike is now generally turned downward beneath the water and increased in size, though some have flowers still at their tips. So, too, probably (for I do not see them) the yellow and white lilies are ripening their seeds in the water and mud beneath the surface. 

The bloom and freshness of the river was gone as soon as the pickerel-weed began to be imbrowned, in the latter part of August. It is fall and harvest there now. 

I remember my earliest going a-graping. (It was a wonder that we ever hit upon the ripe season.) There was more fun in finding and eying the big purple clusters high on the trees and climbing to them than in eating them. We used to take care not to chew the skins long lest they should make our mouths sore. 

Some haws of the scarlet thorn are really a splendid fruit to look at now and far from inedible. They are not only large, but their beauty is enhanced by the persistent calyx relieving the clear scarlet of the fruit. 

There are various degrees of living out-of-doors. You must be outdoors long, early and late, and travel far and earnestly, in order to perceive the phenomena of the day. Even then much will escape you. Few live so far outdoors as to hear the first geese go over. 

I see some shrub oak acorns turned dark on the bushes and showing their meridian lines, but generally acorns of all kinds are green yet. The great red oak acorns have not fallen. It is a wonder how pigeons can swallow acorns whole, but they do. 

Many hemlock leaves which had prematurely ripened and withered in the dry weather have fallen in the late winds and washed up along the side of the river, — already red there.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, September 13, 1859

The Bidens chrysanthemoides, now apparently in its prime by the river, now almost dazzles you with its great sunny disk. See September 13, 1852 ("The great bidens in the sun in brooks affects me as the rose of the fall. They are low suns in the brook. The golden glow of autumn concentrated, more golden than the sun. How surely this yellow comes out along the brooks in autumn. It yellows along the brook.").  See also note to September 14, 1858 ("Bidens chrysanthemoides in river")

I remember my earliest going a-graping. See September 13, 1856 ("Gather quite a parcel of grapes, quite ripe.. . . the best are more admirable for fragrance than for flavor. Depositing them in the bows of the boat, they fill all the air with their fragrance, as we row along against the wind, as if we were rowing through an endless vineyard in its maturity.")

Some haws of the scarlet thorn are really a splendid fruit to look at now and far from inedible. See September 25, 1856 ("The haws of the common thorn are now very good eating and handsome.")

You must be outdoors long, early and late. See December 20, 1851 ("Go out before sunrise or stay out till sunset "); November 4, 1852 ("I keep out-of-doors for the sake of the mineral, vegetable, and animal in me."); June 5, 1854 ("I have come to this hill to see the sun go down, to recover sanity and put myself again in relation with Nature.”); December 29, 1856 (“We must go out and re-ally ourselves to Nature every day. . . .. Staying in the house breeds a sort of insanity always.”)

Few live so far outdoors as to hear the first geese go over.  See August 21, 1851 ("A man may walk abroad and no more see the sky than if he walked under a shed. "); February 28, 1856 ("Though you roam the woods all your days, you never will see by chance what he sees who goes on purpose to see it.”); November 4, 1858 ("The true sportsman can shoot you almost any of his game from his windows. It comes and perches at last on the barrel of his gun; but the rest of the world never see it with the feathers on .");April 8, 1856 ("Most countrymen might paddle five miles along the river now and not see one muskrat, while a sportsman a quarter of a mile before or behind would be shooting one or more every five minutes.");  February 12, 1860 ("Surrounded by our thoughts or imaginary objects, living in our ideas, not one in a million ever sees the objects which are actually around him."); Walking (“I am alarmed when it happens that I have walked a mile into the woods bodily, without getting there in spirit. … But sometimes it happens that I cannot easily shake off the village. The thought of some work will run in my head and I am not where my body is. I am out of my senses. In my walks I would fain return to my senses. What business have I in the woods, if I am thinking of something out of the woods?” ) See also September 23, 1858 ("When we had put out our bayberry fire, we heard a squawk, and, looking up, saw five geese fly low in the twilight over our heads. We then set out to find our way to Gloucester over the hills, and saw the comet very bright in the northwest. ") and A Book of Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Geese in Autumn

The great red oak acorns have not fallen. See September 12, 1854 (“The red oak began to fall first.”)

It is a wonder how pigeons can swallow acorns whole, but they do. See September 21, 1859 ("Rice says that white oak acorns pounded up, shells and all, make the best bait for them.")

Many hemlock leaves which had prematurely ripened have fallen in the late winds and washed up along the side of the river, — already red there. See October 8, 1857 (“Hemlock leaves are copiously falling. They cover the hillside like some wild grain. ”); October 16, 1857 (“Hemlock leaves are falling now faster than ever, and the trees are more parti-colored. The falling leaves look pale-yellow on the trees, but become reddish on the ground.”); October 28, 1858 ("The hemlock is in the midst of its fall, and the leaves strew the ground like grain."): November 11, 1855 (“At the Hemlocks I see a narrow reddish line of hemlock leaves . .. mathematically level. This chronicles the hemlock fall, which I had not noticed, we have so few trees, and also the river’s rise”)