ZtonePhruit: March 2. Blackbird's sharp whistle heard against the dark winter like sparks from the swamp.

Tuesday, March 2, 2021

March 2. Blackbird's sharp whistle heard against the dark winter like sparks from the swamp.

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.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, March 2, 1852:

Perhaps the value of any statement may be measured by its susceptibility to be expressed in popular language. See December 16, 1859 (“How much better to describe your object in fresh English words rather than in conventional Latinisms!”)

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, March 2, 1854:

What produces the peculiar softness of the air? See February 9, 1854 ("There is a peculiar softness and luminousness in the air this morning, perhaps the light being diffused by vapor. It is such a warm, moist, or softened, sunlit air as we are wont to hear the first bluebird's warble in"); February 21, 1855 ("I see the peculiar softened blue sky of spring over the tops of the pines, and, when I am sheltered from the wind, I feel the warmer sun of the season reﬂected from the withered grass and twigs on the side of this elevated hollow."); February 24, 1857 ("[A]s I cross from the causeway to the hill, thinking of the bluebird, I that instant hear one's note from deep in the softened air.") Ma rch 5, 1855 ("This blue haze, and the russet earth seen through it, remind me that a new season has come."); March 12, 1854 (“That peculiar scenery of March . . . is like, yet unlike, November; you have the same barren russet, but now, instead of a dry, hard, cold wind, a peculiarly soft, moist air, or else a raw wind.”); March 21, 1853 ("It is a genial and reassuring day; the mere warmth of the west wind amounts almost to balminess. The softness of the air mollifies our own dry and congealed substance.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Early Spring: change in the air

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, March 2, 1855:

Hear two hawks scream. See March 2, 1856 ("I can hardly believe that hen-hawks may be beginning to build their nests now, yet their young were a fortnight old the last of April last year.") A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau ,The hen-hawk

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, March 2, 1856:

Seeds and scales of birches. See November 4, 1860 ("The birch begins to shed its seed about the time our winter birds arrive from the north."); December 4, 1854("Already the bird-like birch scales dot the snow"); January 7, 1856 ("I see birch scales (bird-like) on the snow on the river more than twenty rods south of the nearest and only birch, and trace them north to it"); January 7, 1854 ("The bird-shaped scales of the white birch are blown more than twenty rods from the trees.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Birches in Season

The opening in the river at Merrick’s. See January 19, 1856 (“The only open place in the river between Hunt’s Bridge and the railroad bridge is a small space against Merrick’s pasture just below the Rock”); January 24, 1856(“You may walk anywhere on the river now. Even the open space against Merrick’s, below the Rock, has been closed again . . .”); January 26, 1856 (“ [The river is not open], excepting the small space against Merrick’s below the Rock (now closed), since January 7th, when it closed at the Hubbard Bath, or nearly three weeks, —a long time, methinks, for it to be frozen so solidly”);February 3, 1856 (River still tight at Merrick’s); February 22, 1856 ([T]he river is still perfectly closed (as it has been for many weeks), both against Merrick’s and in the Assabet, excepting directly under this upper stone bridge and probably at mouth of Loring’s Brook. I am surprised that the warm weather within ten days has not caused the river to open at Merrick’s, but it was too thick to be melted); February 27, 1856 (Am surprised to see how the ice lasts on the river. It but just begins to be open for a foot or two at Merrick’s, and you see the motion of the stream. It has been tight even there (and of course everywhere else on the main stream, and on North Branch except at Loring’s Brook and under stone bridge) since January 25th…That is, we may say that the river has been frozen solidly for seven weeks.) See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Ice-out

I can hardly believe that hen-hawks may be beginning to build their nests now. See March 2, 1855 ("Hear two hawks scream. There is something truly March-like in it, like a prolonged blast or whistling of the wind through a crevice in the sky.”); see also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau,The hen-hawk

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, March 2, 1857:

An inch or two of snow falls. See March 2, 1858 ("Snowed last night and this morning, about seven inches deep."); March 2, 1856 ("Has snowed three or four inches —very damp snow — in the night;")

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, March 2, 1858:

Snowed last night and this morning, about seven inches deep. See March 2, 1857 ("An inch or two of snow falls, — all day about it, — and strangely blown away."); March 2, 1856 ("Has snowed three or four inches —very damp snow — in the night;")

I remember to have seen these wood-lots being cut this winter. See March 6, 1855 ("There is hardly a wood lot of any consequence left but the chopper’s axe has been heard in it this season. They have even infringed fatally on White Pond, on the south of Fair Haven Pond, shaved oﬂ’ the topknot of the Cliffs, the Colburn farm, Beck Stow’s, etc., etc.")

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, March 2, 1859:

The willow catkins by the railroad have a very pretty appearance when you stand on the sunny side, the silvery-white specks contrasting with the black scales. Seen along the twigs, they are somewhat like small pearl buttons on a waist coat. See March 20, 1858 (“How handsome the willow catkins! Those wonderfully bright silvery buttons, so regularly disposed in oval schools in the air, or, if you please, along the seams which their twigs make, in all degrees of forwardness, from the faintest, tiniest speck of silver, just peeping from beneath the black scales, to lusty pussies which have thrown off their scaly coats and show some redness at base on a close inspection.”) See also A Book of Seasons, by Henry Thoreau. Willows on the Causeway

We listen to the February cock-crowing. See February 11, 1856 (" I thought it would be a thawing day by the sound, the peculiar sound, of cock-crowing in the morning.”); February 16, 1855 ("Sounds sweet and musical through this air, as crows, cocks, and striking on the rails at a distance.”); February 24, 1852 ("I am reminded of spring by the quality of the air. The cock-crowing and even the telegraph harp prophesy it, even though the ground is for the most part covered by snow.”)

Under the alders at Well Meadow I see a few skunk-cabbage spathes fairly open on the side, and these may bloom after a day or two of pleasant weather. See March 10, 1853 (“Methinks the first obvious evidence of spring is the pushing out of the swamp willow catkins, then the relaxing of the earlier alder catkins, then the pushing up of skunk-cabbage spathes (and pads at the bottom of water). This is the order I am inclined to, though perhaps any of these may take precedence of all the rest in any particular case.”) See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, t he Skunk Cabbage

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, March 2, 1860:

Notice the brightness of a row of osiers this morning. This phenomenon, whether referable to a change in the condition of the twig or to the spring air and light, or even to our imaginations, is not the less a real phenomenon, affecting us annually at this season. See March 2, 1859 ("The willow catkins by the railroad have a very pretty appearance when you stand on the sunny side.") See also February 24, 1855 ("The brightening of the willows or of osiers, —that is a season in the spring,. . ., I remember it as a prominent phenomenon affecting the face of Nature, a gladdening of her face. You will often fancy that they look brighter before the spring has come, and when there has been no change in them"); March 20, 1859 (" This is, methinks, the brightest object in the landscape these days. Nothing so betrays the spring sun. I am aware that the sun has come out of a cloud first by seeing it lighting up the osiers. Such a willow-row, cut off within a year or two, might be called a heliometer, or measure of the sun's brightness.") See also A Book of Seasons, by Henry Thoreau. Willows on the Causeway

Evidently some buds are further advanced than others even when the winter comes, and then these are further expanded and matured in advance of the others in the very warm days in the winter. See March 2, 1859 ("Under the alders at Well Meadow I see a few skunk- cabbage spathes fairly open on the side, and these may bloom after a day or two of pleasant weather."); see also February 27, 1860 (" I noticed yesterday that the skunk-cabbage had not started yet at Well Meadow, and had been considerably frost-bitten. "); and A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, t he Skunk Cabbage

These are ripple days begun. See March 9, 1860 (“March began warm, and I admired the ripples made by the gusts on the dark-blue meadow flood, and the light-tawny color of the earth, and was on the alert to hear the first birds.”); April 9, 1859 ("Watching the ripples fall and dash across the surface of low-lying and small woodland lakes is one of the amusements of these windy March and April days.”)

See thirty or more crows come flying in the usual irregular zigzag manner in the strong wind, from over M. Miles’s, going northeast, — the first migration of them, — without cawing. See March 5, 1854 ("See crows, as I think, migrating northeasterly. They come in loose, straggling flocks, about twenty to each, commonly silent, a quarter to a half a mile apart, till four flocks have passed, perhaps more. "); March 7, 1855 (". Did I not see crows ﬂying northeasterly yesterday toward night?"); March 5, 1859 (" I see a crow going north or northeast, high over Fair Haven Hill, and, two or three minutes after, two more, and so many more at intervals of a few minutes. This is apparently their spring movement. ") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the American Crow

The red maple sap flows freely, and probably has for several days. See February 21, 1857 ("Am surprised to see this afternoon a boy collecting red maple sap from some trees behind George Hubbard's. It runs freely. The earliest sap I made to flow last year was March 14th "); February 23, 1857("I have seen signs of the spring. I have seen a frog swiftly sinking in a pool, or where he dimpled the surface as he leapt in. I have seen the brilliant spotted tortoises stirring at the bottom of ditches. I have seen the clear sap trickling from the red maple."); March 3, 1857 ("The red maple sap, which I first noticed the 21st of February, is now frozen up in the auger-holes ."); March 4, 1852 (I see where a maple has been wounded the sap is flowing out. Now, then, is the time to make sugar."); March 7, 1855 ("To-day, as also three or four days ago, I saw a clear drop of maple sap on a broken red maple twig, which tasted very sweet.")

Also see a yellow-spot turtle there. See March 26, 1860 ("The yellow-spotted tortoise may be seen February 23, as in '57, or not till March 28, as in '55, — thirty-three days."); February 23, 1857 ("What mean these turtles, these coins of the muddy mint issued in early spring? The bright spots on their backs are vain unless I behold them. The spots seem brighter than ever when first beheld in the spring, as does the bark of the willow. I have seen signs of the spring. I have seen a frog swiftly sinking in a pool, or where he dimpled the surface as he leapt in. I have seen the brilliant spotted tortoises stirring at the bottom of ditches. I have seen the clear sap trickling from the red maple. ") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Yellow-Spotted Turtle (Emys guttata)

See a little conferva in ditches. See January 29, 1858 ("In the ditches on Holbrook's meadow near Copan, I see a Rana palustris swimming, and much conferva greening all the water. Even this green is exhilarating, like a spring in winter. I am affected by the sight even of a mass of conferva in a ditch")

I see a modest brown bird flit along it furtively, — the first song sparrow. See March 3, 1860 ("The first song sparrows are very inconspicuous and shy on the brown earth. You hear some weeds rustle, or think you see a mouse run amid the stubble, and then the sparrow flits low away. ");also note to February 24, 1857 ("I am surprised to hear the strain of a song sparrow from the riverside. ") See also A Book of Seasons, by Henry Thoreau,the Song Sparrow (Fringilla melodia)

I begin to notice the reddish stems of moss on low ground, not bright yet. At Brister Spring the dense bedded green moss is very fresh and handsome. See March 7 , 1855 ("At Brister’s Spring there are beautiful dense green beds of moss, which apparently has just risen above the surface of the water, tender and compact."); April 2, 1853 (" See the fine moss in the pastures with beautiful red stems even crimsoning the ground. This is its season.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau., signs of spring: mosses bright green

See a hen-hawk. See; March 2, 1855 ("Hear two hawks scream. There is something truly March-like in it, like a prolonged blast or whistling of the wind through a crevice in the sky.”); March 2, 1856 ("I can hardly believe that hen-hawks may be beginning to build their nests now. ") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The hen-hawk

March 2.

Blackbird's sharp whistle

heard against the dark winter

like sparks from the swamp.

March 2, 1859