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
Such warm and pleasant
weather I even listen
for the first bluebird.
 |
| February 22, 2015 |
Went to Plymouth to lecture or preach. February 22, 1852
A mild, misty day. The red (?) oaks about Billington Sea fringed with usneas, which in this damp air appear in perfection. The trunks and main stems of the trees have, as it were, suddenly leaved out in the winter, — a very lively light green, — and these ringlets and ends of usnea are so expanded and puffed out with light and life, with their reddish or rosaceous fruit, it is a true lichen day. February 22, 1852
My alder catkins in the pitcher have shed their pollen for a day or two, and the willow catkins have pushed out half an inch or more and show red and yellowish. February 22, 1854
Our neighbor Wetherbee was J. Moore's companion when he took that great weight of pickerel this winter. He says it was fifty-six pounds in Flint's, in one day, and that four of them weighed eighteen pounds and seven ounces. February 22, 1854
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. The westerly wind is rather raw, but in sheltered places it is deliciously warm. February 22, 1855
[Farmer] had seen a partridge drum standing on a wall. Said it stood very upright and produced the sound by striking its wings together behind its back, as a cock often does, but did not strike the wall nor its body. This he is sure of, and declares that he is mistaken who affirms the contrary, though it were Audubon himself. February 22, 1855
It is a pleasant and warm afternoon, and the snow is melting. Yet the river is still perfectly closed. February 22, 1856
Just below this bridge begins an otter track, several days old yet very distinct, which I trace half a mile down the river.. . . It looks as if some one had dragged a round timber down the middle of the river a day or two since, which bounced as it went. February 22, 1856
Go to Worcester to lecture in a parlor. February 22, 1859
Pitch pine cones must be taken from the tree at the right season, else they will not open or “blossom” in a chamber. February 22, 1855
The sun goes down to-night under clouds, - a round red orb, - and I am surprised to see that its light, falling on my book and the wall, is a beautiful purple. February 22, 1855
*****
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Lichens
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Pickerel
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Otter
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Partridge
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, February Belongs to Spring
*****
November 18, 1857 ("Now, as in the spring, we rejoice in sheltered and sunny places.”)
January 30, 1854 ("How retired an otter manages to live! He grows to be four feet long without any mortal getting a glimpse of him”).
February 2, 1854 (" The ice is about eighteen inches thick on Fair Haven. Saw some pickerel just caught there, with a fine lustre to them.")
February 4, 1855 ("See this afternoon a very distinct otter-track by the Rock”)
February 9, 1854 ("It is such a warm, moist, or softened, sunlit air as we are wont to hear the first bluebird's warble in")
February 2, 1854 (" The ice is about eighteen inches thick on Fair Haven. Saw some pickerel just caught there, with a fine lustre to them.")
February 4, 1855 ("See this afternoon a very distinct otter-track by the Rock”)
February 9, 1854 ("It is such a warm, moist, or softened, sunlit air as we are wont to hear the first bluebird's warble in")
February 18, 1857 (“I am excited by this wonderful air and go listening for the note of the bluebird or other comer. The very grain of the air seems to have undergone a change and is ready to split into the form of the bluebird's warble . . . The air over these fields is a foundry full of moulds for casting bluebirds' warbles. ”)
February 19, 1857 ("Some willow catkins have crept a quarter of an inch from under their scales and look very red, probably on account of the warm weather.")
February 20, 1856 ("See a broad and distinct otter-trail, made last night or yesterday.")
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 19, 1857 ("Some willow catkins have crept a quarter of an inch from under their scales and look very red, probably on account of the warm weather.")
February 20, 1856 ("See a broad and distinct otter-trail, made last night or yesterday.")
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. ")
Red and yellowish
willow catkins now push out
half an inch or more.
Alder catkins in
my pitcher have shed pollen
for a day or two.
February 23, 1857 ("I have seen signs of the spring.").
February 23, 1859 ("One boy tells me that he saw a bluebird in Concord on Sunday, the 20th")
February 24, 1857("As 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. ")
February 27. 1852 ("The buds of the aspen show a part of their down or silky catkins.")
February 27, 1853 ("The expanding of the pine cones, that, too, is a season.")
March 6, 1853 ("Last Sunday I plucked some alder twigs, some aspen, and some swamp willow, and put them in water in a warm room, Immediately the alder catkins were relaxed and began to lengthen and open, and by the second day to drop their pollen”)
March 10, 1853 ("The alder's catkins — the earliest of them — are very plainly expanding, or, rather, the scales are loose and separated, and the whole catkin relaxed.”)
March 22, 1853 ("The very earliest alder is in bloom and sheds its pollen. I detect a few catkins at a distance by their distinct yellowish color. This the first native flower”)
March 31, 1857 ("The existence of the otter, our largest wild animal, is not betrayed to any of our senses (or at least not to more than one in a thousand)!")
April 6, 1855 ("It reminds me of an otter, which however I have never seen")
March 6, 1853 ("Last Sunday I plucked some alder twigs, some aspen, and some swamp willow, and put them in water in a warm room, Immediately the alder catkins were relaxed and began to lengthen and open, and by the second day to drop their pollen”)
March 10, 1853 ("The alder's catkins — the earliest of them — are very plainly expanding, or, rather, the scales are loose and separated, and the whole catkin relaxed.”)
March 22, 1853 ("The very earliest alder is in bloom and sheds its pollen. I detect a few catkins at a distance by their distinct yellowish color. This the first native flower”)
March 31, 1857 ("The existence of the otter, our largest wild animal, is not betrayed to any of our senses (or at least not to more than one in a thousand)!")
April 6, 1855 ("It reminds me of an otter, which however I have never seen")
April 19, 1860 ("Toward night, hear a partridge drum. You will hear at first a single beat or two far apart and have time to say, "There is a partridge," so distinct and deliberate is it often, before it becomes a rapid roll.")
April 26, 1857 (“In the winter we sit by fires in the house; in spring and fall, in sunny and sheltered nooks; in the summer, in shady and cool groves, or over water where the breeze circulates.”)
May 22, 1857 (“Is it not summer when we do not go seeking sunny and sheltered places, but also love the wind and shade?”)
May 22, 1857 (“Is it not summer when we do not go seeking sunny and sheltered places, but also love the wind and shade?”)
February 22, 2022
If you make the least correct
observation of nature this year,
you will have occasion to repeat it
with illustrations the next,
and the season and life itself is prolonged.
February 21. <<<<< February 22 >>>>> February 23
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, February 22
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 © 2009-2023
https://tinyurl.com/HDTFeb22
No comments:
Post a Comment