Goose Pond half open. Journal, March 24, 1854
Great flocks of hyemalis drifting about with their jingling note. See March 24, 1856 ("The F. hyemalis has been seen two or three days") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Dark-eyed Junco (Fringilla hyemalis)
Goose Pond half open. See March 21, 1855 (“Crossed Goose Pond on ice ”); March 29, 1855 (“Goose Pond [open] only a little about the shores.”)
Flint's has perhaps fifteen or twenty acres of ice yet about shores. See March 19, 1854 (" Flint's Pond almost entirely open.”); April 3, 1854 ("I think I may say that Flint's broke up entirely on the first wet day after the cold spell, — i.e. the 31st of March, — though I have not been there lately.”) See also March 21, 1853 (" I am surprised to find Flint's Pond not more than half broken up."); March 21, 1855 ("There is no opening in Flint’s Pond except a very little around the boat-house.”); March 23, 1853 (“The ice went out ...of Flint's Pond day before yesterday, I have no doubt”); March 29, 1855 ("Flint’s Pond is entirely open; may have been a day or two."); April 1, 1852 (" I am surprised to find Flint's Pond frozen still, which should have been open a week ago..")
In the course of ages the rivers wriggle in their beds, till it feels comfortable Journal, March 24, 1855
The earliest signs of spring in vegetation noticed thus far. See note to 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.”)
The North Branch — it is all solid. Journal, March 24, 1856
The F. hyemalis has been seen two or three days. See March 24, 1854 (“Great flocks of hyemalis drifting about with their jingling note.”); March 19, 1858 ("Hear the pleasant chill-lill of the F. hyemalis, the first time have heard this note."); March 18, 1857 ("I hear the chill-lill or tchit-a-tchit of the slate-colored sparrow, and see it.”); March 20, 1855 ("At my landing I hear the F. hyemalis”); March 20, 1852 ("And now, within a day or two, I have noticed the chubby slate-colored snowbird (Fringilla hyemalis?),. . . It has two white feathers in its tail.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Dark-eyed Junco (Fringilla hyemalis)
Unconscious significance. Journal, March 24, 1857
I see many of those narrow four-winged insects (perla?) of the ice now fluttering on the water . . . See March 22, 1856 (“On water standing above the ice under a white maple, are many of those Perla(?) insects, with four wings, drowned.”)
Frank Forester: Henry William Herbert (April 3, 1807 – May 17, 1858), pen name Frank Forester, was an English novelist, poet, historian, illustrator, journalist and writer on sport. See July 12, 1855 (quoting Forester’s “Manual for Young Sportsmen,”)
[Forester] thinks that it would not be safe to fire a two barrelled gun offered new for less than fifty dollars. See Forester’s Manual at 58 ("I do not, of course, mean to say that every cheap gun must necessarily burst ; but I do say that, against each one, severally, the odds are heavy that it will . . .By the word low-priccd guns, I mean, as a general rule, in reference to buying a safe and serviceable piece, any thing like new, with two barrels and the smallest show of exterior ornament, cheaper than fifty dollars.”)
If you are describing any occurrence, or a man, make two or more distinct reports at different times. . . . How little that occurs to us in any way are we prepared at once to appreciate. See March 27, 1857 ("I would fain make two reports in my Journal, first the incidents and observations of to-day; and by tomorrow I review the same and record what was omitted before, which will often be the most significant and poetic part. I do not know at first what it is that charms me. The men and things of to-day are wont to lie fairer and truer in to-morrow’s memory."); October 1, 1856 (“I do not perceive the poetic and dramatic capabilities of an anecdote or story which is told me, its significance, till some time afterwards. . ."); April 20, 1854 ("I find some advantage in describing the experience of a day on the day following. At this distance it is more ideal, like the landscape seen with the head inverted, or reflections in water”); January 10, 1854 ("What you can recall of a walk on the second day will differ from what you remember on the first day, ... as any view changes to one who is journeying amid mountains when he has increased the distance.”); May 5, 1852 ("I succeed best when I recur to my experience not too late, but within a day or two; when there is some distance, but enough of freshness.”); July 23, 1851 ("Do not tread on the heels of your experience. Be impressed without making a minute of it. Put an interval between the impression and the expression, - wait till the seed germinates naturally.”)
A cold north-by-west wind, which must have come over much snow and ice. Journal, March 24, 1858
A cold north-by-west wind, which must have come over much snow and ice. See March 24, 1855 (“The northwesterly comes from a snow—clad country still, and cannot but be chilling. ”)
The robin's peep, which sounds like a note of distress, is also a chip, or call-note to its kind. See March 8, 1855("I hear the hasty, shuffling, as if frightened, note of a robin from a dense birch wood. . .”); March 18, 1858 (“The robin does not come singing, but utters a somewhat anxious or inquisitive peep at first. ”); April 2, 1852 (“The robin now peeps with scared note in the heavy overcast air, among the apple trees”). See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Robins in Spring
The frog far away in the wood, that burns no coal nor wood, perceives more surely the general and universal changes. Journal, March 24, 1859
I am sitting in Laurel Glen, listening to hear the earliest wood frogs croaking. See March 15, 1860 ("Am surprised to hear, from the pool behind Lee's Cliff, the croaking of the wood frog. It is all alive with them, and I see them spread out on the surface."); March 23, 1859 ("I hear a single croak from a wood frog. . . . Thus we sit on that rock, hear the first wood frog's croak"); March 26, 1860 (“The wood frog [first] may be heard March 15, as this year, or not till April 13, as in '56,”); March 31, 1857 (“As I rise the east side of the Hill, I hear the distant faint peep of hylodes and the tut tut of croaking frogs from the west of the Hill.”) and note to May 6, 1858 (the frogs of Massachusetts). Compare March 31, 1855 (“I go listening for the croak of the first frog, or peep of a hylodes.. . .I listen in vain to hear a frog”) See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Wood Frog (Rana sylvatica)
In the ditch under the west edge of Trillium Wood I see six yellow-spot turtles. See February 23, 1857 "See two yellow-spotted tortoises in the ditch south of Trillium Wood. . . . 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. . . . the brilliant spotted tortoises stirring at the bottom of ditches.”); March 26, 1860 (“The yellow-spotted tortoise may [first]be seen February 23, as in '57, or not till March 28, as in '55”) See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Yellow-Spotted Turtle (Emys guttata)
I see a flock of goldfinches, first of spring, flitting along the cause way-bank. See April 7, 1855 (“See thirty or forty goldfinches in a dashing flock, in all respects (notes and all) like lesser redpolls, on the trees by Wood’s Causeway and on the railroad bank. There is a general twittering and an occasional mew.”); April 19, 1858 ("Along the wall under the Middle Conantum Cliff, I saw many goldfinches, male and female, the males singing in a very sprightly and varied manner, sitting still on bare trees. Also uttered their watery twitter and their peculiar mewing. See April 7, 1855 (“See thirty or forty goldfinches in a dashing flock, in all respects (notes and all) like lesser redpolls, on the trees by Wood’s Causeway and on the railroad bank. There is a general twittering and an occasional mew.”)
C. sees geese go over again this afternoon. How commonly they are seen in still rainy weather like this! See March 10, 1854 ("We always have much of this rainy, drizzling, misty weather in early spring, after which we expect to hear geese. “); March 14, 1854 (" From within the house at 5.30 p. m. I hear the loud honking of geese, throw up the window, and see a large flock in disordered harrow flying more directly north or even northwest than usual. Raw, thick, misty weather.”) See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Signs of Spring, Geese Overhead
The duck most common and most identified with the stream at this season. Journal, March 24, 1860
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They are real wind-clouds this afternoon; have an electric, fibry look. Peculiar cold and windy cumuli are mixed with them. See March 4, 1860 ("Very strong and gusty northwest wind, with electric-looking wind-clouds"); March 22, 1858 ("I see those peculiar spring clouds, scattered cumuli with dark level bases. No doubt the season is to be detected by the aspect of the clouds no less than by that of the earth."); March 23, 1860 ("Small dark-based cumuli spring clouds, mostly in rows parallel with the horizon.").
I see a male frog hawk beating a hedge, scarcely rising more than two feet from the ground for half a mile. See March 27, 1855 ("See my frog hawk. (C. saw it about a week ago.) It is the hen-harrier, i.e. marsh hawk, male. Slate-colored; beating the bush; black tips to wings and white rump") See Also Henry Thoreau, A Book of the Seasons, The Marsh Hawk (Northern Harrier)
They are the duck most common and most identified with the stream at this season. See February 27, 1860 ("This is the first bird of the spring that I have seen or heard of."); and note to March 16, 1860 ("Saw a flock of sheldrakes a hundred rods off, on the Great Meadows, mostly males with a few females, all intent on fishing. ") See also Henry Thoreau, A Book of the Seasons, The Sheldrake (Merganser, Goosander)
We are not at once
conscious of the whole fruit of
our experience.
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
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