March 1. On this first spring day hear the fine-drawn phe-be note of the chickadee.

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

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, March 1, 1854:

Here is our first spring morning according to the almanac. See March 1, 1856 ("I hear several times the fine-drawn phe-be note of the chickadee. . .Singular that I should hear this on the first spring day.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Chickadee in Winter

For some days past the surface of the earth, covered with water, or with ice where the snow is washed off, has shone in the sun as it does only at the approach of spring. See March 1, 1855 ("This more dazzling white must be due to the higher sun.")

As for the birds of the past winter. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Winter Birds

Blue jays have blown the trumpet of winter as usual, but they, as all birds, are most lively in springlike days. February 12, 1854 ("You hear the lisping tinkle of chickadees from time to time and the unrelenting steel-cold scream of a jay, unmelted, that never flows into a song, a sort of wintry trumpet, screaming cold; hard, tense, frozen music, like the winter sky itself; in the blue livery of winter's band. It is like a flourish of trumpets to the winter sky") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau. The Blue Jay



H. D. Thoreau, Journal, March 1, 1855:

The last day for skating. It is a very pleasant and warm day, the finest yet,.See March 15, 1860 ("On the whole the finest day yet. . . . Here is the first fair, and at the same time calm and warm, day") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The world can never be more beautiful than now.

I am surprised to find the North River more frozen than the South . See March 1, 1856 ("Ask the sheldrake whether the rivers are completely sealed up.") and A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Ice-out

The spring sun shining on the sloping icy shores. See March 1, 1854 ("For some days past the surface of the earth, covered with water, or with ice where the snow is washed off, has shone in the sun as it does only at the approach of spring")

We go listening for bluebirds, but only hear crows and chickadees. See February 22, 1855 ("Remarkably warm and pleasant weather, perfect spring. I even listen for the first bluebird. I see a seething in the air over clean russet fields. "); March 1, 1854 ("I hear the phoebe or spring note of the chickadee, and the scream of the jay is perfectly repeated by the echo from a neighboring wood "); March 1, 1856 ("I hear several times the fine-drawn phe-be note of the chickadee. . . Singular that I should hear this on the first spring day.")


H. D. Thoreau, Journal, March 1, 1856:

I hear the hens cackle as not before for many months. Are they not now beginning to lay? See January 26, 1858 ("The hens cackle and scratch, all this winter. Eggs must be plenty.")

I see a pitch pine seed with its wing, far out on Walden. See February 1, 1856 ("I see a pitch pine seed, blown thirty rods from J. Hosmer’s little grove.") and A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Pitch Pine.

The catkins of the willow by the causeway.  See A Book of Seasons, by Henry Thoreau. Willows on the Causeway.

I hear several times the fine-drawn phe-be note of the chickadee. . . Singular that I should hear this on the first spring day. See March 1, 1854 ("Here is our first spring morning according to the almanac. . . .I hear the phoebe or spring note of the chickadee, and the scream of the jay is perfectly repeated by the echo from a neighboring wood.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Chickadee in Winter

Ask the sheldrake whether the rivers are completely sealed up. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Ice-out


H. D.Thoreau, Journal, March 1, 1858:

We have just had a winter with absolutely no sleighing. See January 23, 1858 ("The wonderfully mild and pleasant weather continues. The ground has been bare since the 11th. . . .I have not been able to walk up the North Branch this winter, nor along the channel of the South Branch at any time") See also note to January 23, 1857 ("I may safely say that -5° has been the highest temperature to-day by our thermometer."); and compare March 9, 1856 ("sixteen inches of snow on a level in open fields, hard and dry, ice in Flint’s Pond two feet thick, and the aspect of the earth is that of the middle of January in a severe winter."); February 24, 1856 (" there was as much snow as this in ’35, when [Dr. Jarvis] . . . drove in his sleigh from November 23d to March 30th excepting one day.")

It has been an excellent winter for walking in the swamps. See January 29, 1858 ("I go through the northerly part of Beck Stow's."); January 30, 1858 ("To Gowing's Swamp. I thought it would be a good time to rake in the mud of that central pool, and see what animal or vegetable life might be there, now that it is frozen."); February 4, 1858 ("To C. Miles Swamp. Discover the Ledum latifolium, quite abundant over a space about six rods in diameter just east of the small pond-hole"); February 19, 1854 ("I incline to walk now in swamps and on the river and ponds, where I cannot walk in summer.")



H. D. Thoreau, Journal, March 1, 1860:

Rain all day. This will apparently take the frost out very much and still further settle the ways. See March 5, 1860("Ways fairly settled generally. "); March 15, 1860 ("Though it is pretty dry and settled travelling on open roads, it is very muddy still in some roads through woods, as the Marlborough road or Second Division road. "); March 19, 1860 ("The road and paths are perfectly dry and settled in the village, except a very little frost still coming out on the south side the street");; See also February 18, 1857 (" The frost out of the ground and the ways settled in many places."); March 17, 1853 ("The ways are mostly settled, frozen dry."); March 21, 1858 ("This first spring rain . . .helps take the remaining frost out and settles the ways. ")

I have thoughts, as I walk, on some subject that is running in my head, but all their pertinence seems gone before I can get home to set them down. See August 21, 1851 ("A man may walk abroad and no more see the sky than if he walked under a shed. "); 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?” )

March 1.

On this first spring day

hear the fine-drawn phe-be note

of the chickadee.

March 1, 1856

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 © 2009-2021