A Book of the Seasons: the Lark in Early Spring

 

For the first time I perceive this spring

that the year is a circle.  

I would make a chart of our life, 

know why just this circle of creatures completes the world.

Henry Thoreau, April 18, 1852

The turtle and frog 

peep stealthily out and see

first larks go over.

March 27, 1857 

\

March 27, 2020

March 11. E. Hosmer says that a man told him that he had seen my uncle Charles take a twelve-foot ladder, set it up straight, and then run up and down the other side, kicking it from behind him as he went down. E. H. told of seeing him often at the tavern toss his hat to the ceiling, twirling it over, and catch it on his head every time. Large flocks of blackbirds to -day in the elm-tops and other trees. These are the first conspicuous large flocks of birds. 

J. Farmer says he saw ducks this morning and has seen larks some days. Channing saw geese to-day. March 11, 1859

[Uncle Charles died March 27, 1856, 

about midnight, aged seventy-six.]

March 12. Now I see and hear the lark sitting with head erect, neck outstretched, in the middle of a pasture, and I hear another far off singing. Sing when they first come. March 12, 1854

March 13. Excepting a few bluebirds and larks, no spring birds have come, apparently. The woods are still. March 13, 1853

March 13. Going down railroad, listening intentionally, I hear, far through the notes of song sparrows (which are very numerous), the song of one or two larks. Also hearing a coarse chuck, I look up and see four black birds, whose size and long tails betray them crow blackbirds. Also I hear, I am pretty sure, the cackle of a pigeon woodpecker. The bright catkins of the willow are the springing most generally observed. March 13, 1859

March 16. See larks about, though I have heard of them in the winter. March 16, 1860

March 18. The bluebird and song sparrow sing immediately on their arrival , and hence deserve to enjoy some preeminence. They give expression to the joy which the season inspires. But the robin and blackbird only peep and chuck at first, commonly, and the lark is silent and flitting. March 18, 1853

March 21. Hear a lark far off in the meadow. March 21, 1855

March 22. Already I hear from the rail road the plaintive strain of a lark or two. They sit now conspicuous on the bare russet ground. March 22, 1853

March 25. This sound [the dark-eyed junco] advances me furthest toward summer, unless it be the note of the lark, who, by the way, is the most steady singer at present. Notwithstanding the raw and windy mornings, it will sit on a low twig or tussock or pile of manure in the meadow and sing for hours, as sweetly and plaintively as in summer.March 25, 1853

March 26. The lark sings, perched on the top of an apple tree, quite sweet and plaintive, contrasting with the cheerless season and the bleak meadow. March 26, 1855

March 27. Hear a lark in that meadow. Twitters over it on quivering wing and awakes the slumbering life of the meadow. The turtle and frog peep stealthily out and see the first lark go over. March 27, 1857

March 28. The first lark of the 23d sailed through the meadow with that peculiar prolonged chipping or twittering sound, perhaps sharp clucking. March 28, 1858

March 30. The pewee [phoebe] is heard, and the lark. March 30, 1851

March 30. You see a few blackbirds, robins, bluebirds, tree sparrows, larks, etc., but the song sparrow chiefly is heard these days. March 30, 1855

April 2. The sun is up. The water on the meadows is perfectly smooth and placid, reflecting the hills and clouds and trees. The air is full of the notes of birds, - song sparrows, red-wings, robins (singing a strain), bluebirds, - and I hear also a lark, - as if all the earth had burst forth into song. The influence of this April morning has reached them, for they live out-of-doors all the night, and there is no danger that they will oversleep themselves such a morning.April 2, 1852

April 6. The robin is the singer at present, such is its power and universality, being found both in garden and wood. Morning and evening it does not fail, perched on some elm or the like, and in rainy days it is one long morning or evening. The song sparrow is still more universal but not so powerful. The lark, too, is equally constant, morning and evening, but confined to certain localities, as is the blackbird to some extent. The bluebird, with feebler but not less sweet warbling, helps fill the air, and the pheobe does her part. . . . I cannot describe the lark's song. I used these syllables in the morning to remember it by, -- heetar-su-e-oo.  April 6, 1853

April 9. I hear the note of a lark amid the other birds on the meadow. April 9, 1856

April 13. The larks are not yet in sufficient numbers or sufficiently musical. The robin is the prime singer as yet. April 13, 1852

April 14. Going down the railroad at 9 A. M., I hear the lark singing from over the snow. This for steady singing comes next to the robin now. It will come up very sweet from the meadows ere long.    I do not hear those peculiar tender die-away notes from the pewee yet. Is it another pewee, or a later note? April 14, 1852

April 21. The robins sing through the ceaseless rain, and the song sparrows, and I hear a lark’s plaintive strain. April 21, 1852

April 23. The lark sings morning and evening . April 23, 1854

April 26. The lark on the top of an apple tree sings a tchea te che, then perhaps tche tchea, only a plaintive clear round note.

*****

The lark sings a note 

which belongs to New England

summer evenings.

June 30, 1851

See also:

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau,  Alder and Willow Catkins Expanding

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Wood Turtle (Emys insculpta)

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Painted Turtle (Emys picta)

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Yellow-Spotted Turtle (Emys guttata) 

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The  Wood Frog (Rana sylvatica)

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The first frogs to begin calling

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Signs of Spring, Geese Overhead

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the American Black Duck

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Song Sparrow (Fringilla melodia)

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Signs of the Spring: the grackle arrives

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Pigeon Woodpecker

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau,The Eastern Phoebe

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Eastern Wood Pewee

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau,  The Bluebird in Spring.

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Robin in Spring

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Red-wing in Spring

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Colors of March-- Brown Season

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, March 27

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Lark in Early Spring

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/HDTlark

A Book of the Seasons: March 27 (ice-out, unnoticed March flowers – alder aspen hazel and maple, waterfowl, turtles and frogs, birdsong)

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

 March 27

The hazel is out 

at this cold leafless season 

greeting of the spring. 

March 27, 1853

March 27, 2022

Uncle Charles died this morning, about midnight, aged seventy-six . . .  The river is now open in reaches of twenty or thirty rods, where the ice has disappeared by melting. March 27, 1856

Walden is two-thirds broken up. It will probably be quite open by to-morrow night. March 27, 1851

The ducks sleep these nights in the shallowest water which does not freeze, and there may be found early in the morning. March 27, 1855

We land and steal over the hill through the woods, expecting to find them under Lee's Cliff, as indeed we do, having crawled over the hill through the woods on our stomachs; and there we watched various water-fowl for an hour. March 27, 1858

Scare up a flock of sheldrakes just off Fair Haven Hill, the conspicuous white ducks, sailing straight hither and thither. At first they fly low up the stream, but, having risen, come back half-way to us, then wheel and go up-stream. Soon after we scare up a flock of black ducks. March 27, 1858

Among them, or near by, I at length detect three or four whistlers, by their wanting the red bill, being considerably smaller and less white, having a white spot on the head, a black back, and altogether less white, and also keeping more or less apart and not diving when the rest do.  March 27, 1858

Louis Minor tells me he saw some geese about the 23d. March 27 and 28, 1860

Farmer says that he heard geese go over two or three nights ago. March 27, 1857

Am surprised to see the cowslip so forward, showing so much green, in E. Hubbard’s Swamp, in the brook, where it is sheltered from the winds. The already expanded leaves rise above the water. If this is a spring growth, it is the most forward herb I have seen.  March 27, 1855 

There is an abundance of low willows whose catkins are now conspicuous, rising four to six or seven feet above the water, thickly placed on long wand-like osiers. They look, when you look from the sun, like dead gray twigs or branches (whose wood is exposed) of bushes in the light, but, nearer, are recognized for the pretty bright buttons of the willow. We sail by masses of these silvery buttons two or three rods long, rising above the water. March 27, 1859

By their color they have relation to the white clouds and the sky and to the snow and ice still lingering in a few localities. In order to see these silvery buttons in the greatest profusion, you must sail amid them on some flooded meadow or swamp like this. March 27, 1859

The hazel is fully out. The 23d was perhaps full early to date them. It is in some respects the most interesting flower yet, though so minute that only an observer of nature, or one who looked for them, would notice it. It is the highest and richest colored yet, –– ten or a dozen little rays at the end of the buds which are at the ends and along the sides of the bare stems. Some of the flowers are a light, some a dark crimson. The high color of this minute, unobserved flower, at this cold, leafless, and almost flowerless season! It is a beautiful greeting of the spring, when the catkins are scarcely relaxed and there are no signs of life in the bush. March 27, 1853

Twenty rods off, masses of alder in bloom look like masses of bare brown twigs, last year's twigs, and would be taken for such. March 27, 1859

Our whole course, as we wind about in this bay, is lined also with the alder, whose pretty tassels, now many of them in full bloom, are hanging straight down, suggesting in a peculiar manner the influence of gravity, or are regularly blown one side. It is remarkable how modest and unobtrusive these early flowers are. The musquash and duck hunter or the farmer might and do commonly pass by them without perceiving them. They steal into the air and light of spring without being noticed for the most part. The sportsman seems to see a mass of weather-stained dead twigs showing their wood and partly covered with gray lichens and moss, and the flowers of the alder, now partly in bloom, maybe half, make the impression at a little distance of a collection of the brown twigs of winter — also are of the same color with many withered leaves. March 27, 1859

 Of our seven indigenous flowers which begin to bloom in March, four, i. e. the two alders, the aspen, and the hazel, are not generally noticed so early, if at all, and most do not observe the flower of a fifth, the maple. The first four are yellowish or reddish brown at a little distance, like the banks and sward moistened by the spring rain. March 27, 1859

The browns are the prevailing shades as yet, as in the withered grass and sedge and the surface of the earth, the withered leaves, and these brown flowers.  March 27, 1859

Saw a hawk – probably marsh hawk – by meadow. March 27, 1854

See my frog hawk. (C. saw it about a week ago.) It is the hen-barrier, i.e. marsh hawk, male. Slate-colored; beating the bush; black tips to wings and white rump.  March 27, 1855

Tried to see the faint-croaking frogs at J. P. Brown's Pond in the woods. They are remarkably timid and shy; had their noses and eyes out, croaking, but all ceased, dove, and concealed themselves, before I got within a rod of the shore. Stood perfectly still amid the bushes on the shore, before one showed himself; finally five or six, and all eyed me, gradually approached me within three feet to reconnoitre, and, though I waited about half an hour, would not utter a sound nor take their eyes off me, – were plainly affected by curiosity. March 27, 1853

Pickerel begin to dart in shallows. March 27, 1857

I see but one tortoise (Emys guttata) in Nut Meadow Brook now; the weather is too raw and gusty. March 27, 1853

See a wood tortoise in the brook. March 27, 1855

As I go up the Assabet, I see two Emys insculpta on the bank in the sun, and one picta. They are all rather sluggish, and I can paddle up and take them up. March 27, 1857

 

Hear a lark in that meadow. Twitters over it on quivering wing and awakes the slumbering life of the meadow. The turtle and frog peep stealthily out and see the first lark go over. March 27, 1857

But now chiefly there comes borne on the breeze the tinkle of the song sparrow along the riverside, and I push out into wind and current.  March 27, 1857

*****

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau,    The Alders

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau: the Hazel

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Aspens

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, White Maple Buds and Flowers

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau,  the Osier in Winter and early Spring

A Book of Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Signs of the Spring: the Cowslip

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau,  the Earliest Flower

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Pickerel

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Wood Turtle (Emys insculpta)

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Painted Turtle (Emys picta)

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Yellow-Spotted Turtle (Emys guttata) 

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The  Wood Frog (Rana sylvatica)

A Book of Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The first frogs to begin calling

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Signs of the Spring: the Hawks of March

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Signs of Spring, Geese Overhead

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the American Black Duck

A Book of Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Sheldrake (Goosander, Merganser)

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau,the Goldeneye (Whistler)

A Book of the Seasons,    by Henry Thoreau, the Song Sparrow (Fringilla melodia)

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Lark in Early Spring

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Ice-Out

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Colors of March-- Brown Season

*****

March 26, 1855 ("The lark sings, perched on the top of an apple tree, quite sweet and plaintive, contrasting with the cheerless season and the bleak meadow.")

March 26, 1857 ("The buds of the cowslip are very yellow, and the plant is not observed a rod off, it lies so low and close to the surface of the water in the meadow. It may bloom and wither there several times before villagers discover or suspect it")

March 26, 1860 ("The yellow sands of a lonely brook seen through the rippling water, with the shadows of the ripples like films passing over it.")

March 28, 1852 (" A yellow-spotted tortoise by the causeway side in the meadow near Hubbard's Bridge. ")

March 28, 1853 ("As near as I can make out, the hawks or falcons I am likely to see here are the American sparrow hawk, the fish hawk, the goshawk, the short-winged buzzard (if this is the same with Brown's stuffed sharp-shinned or slate-colored hawk, — not slate in his specimen; (is not this the common small hawk that soars ?), the red- tailed hawk (have we the red-shouldered hawk, about the same size and aspect with the last ?),the hen-harrier. (I suppose it is the adult of this with the slate-color over meadows.)

March 28, 1853 ("Saw eleven black ducks near the bathing-place on the Assabet, flying up the stream. . . . This is a raw, cloudy, and disagreeable day. Yet I think you are most likely to see wild fowl this weather")

March 28, 1855 ("A yellow-spotted tortoise in a still ditch, which has a little ice also. It at first glance reminds me of a bright freckled leaf, skunk-cabbage scape, perhaps. They are generally quite still at this season, or only slowly put their heads out (of their shells).")

March 26, 1857 (" As I go through the woods by Andromeda Ponds, though it is rather cool and windy in exposed places, I hear a faint, stertorous croak from a frog in the open swamp; at first one faint note only, which I could not be sure that I had heard, but, after listening long, one or two more suddenly croaked in confirmation of my faith, and all was silent again.")

March 28, 1857 ("The Emys guttata is found in brooks and ditches. I passed three to-day, lying cunningly quite motionless, with heads and feet drawn in, on the bank of a little grassy ditch, close to a stump, in the sun.")

March 28, 1858 ("After a cloudy morning, a warm and pleasant afternoon. I hear that a few geese were seen this morning.")

March 28, 1858 ("I look toward Fair Haven Pond, now quite smooth. There is not a duck nor a gull to be seen on it. I can hardly believe that it was so alive with them yesterday. Apparently they improve this warm and pleasant day, with little or no wind, to continue their journey northward. The strong and cold northwest wind of about a week past has probably detained them. Knowing that the meadows and ponds were swarming with ducks yesterday, you go forth this particularly pleasant and still day to see them at your leisure, but find that they are all gone. No doubt there are some left, and many more will soon come with the April rains. It is a wildlife that is associated with stormy and blustering weather.")

March 28, 1858 ("I hear the croaking frogs in the pool on the south side of Hubbard’s Grove. It is sufficiently warm for them at last. ")

March 28, 1859 ("The black, sheldrake, etc., move their wings rapidly, and remind you of paddle-wheel steamers . . . The meadows, which are still covered far and wide, are quite alive with black ducks . . . If you scan the horizon at this season of the year you are very likely to detect a small flock of dark ducks moving with rapid wing athwart the sky, or see the undulating line of migrating geese against the sky.")

March 27, 2020

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.

  April 7, 1853 

March 26 <<<<< March 27 >>>>>  March 28   

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, March 27

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 ©  2009-2024

tinyurl.com/HDT27March

A Book of the Seasons: the Osier in Winter and Early Spring

 

The brightening of the willows or osiers –

that is a season in the spring  . . .  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.  

Henry Thoreau, February 24, 1855 

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. 

March 2, 1860

The blushing twigs retain their color throughout the winter

and appear more brilliant than ever the succeeding spring. 

March 17, 1859

Willows near Mill Brook

surprise me at a distance –

green, yellowish, red!

March 25, 1854

March 25, 2017

November 18. Notice the short bright-yellow willow twigs on Hubbard’s Causeway. November 18, 1858

December 5. On the causeway the yellowish bark of the willows gleams warmly through the ice. December 5, 1858

January 3. Now, when all the fields and meadows are covered deep with snow, the warm-colored shoots of osiers, red and yellow, rising above it, remind me of flames. January 3, 1856

January 19. The willow osiers of last year’s growth on the pollards in Shattuck’s row, Merrick’s pasture, from four to seven feet long, are perhaps as bright as in the spring, the lower half yellow, the upper red, but they are a little shrivelled in the bark. January 19, 1856

January 26. It is a very pleasant and warm day, and when I came down to the river and looked off to Merrick’s pasture, the osiers there shone as brightly as in spring, showing that their brightness depends on the sun and air rather than the season. January 26, 1859

February 6. The woods, especially wooded hillsides half a mile or more distant, have a rich, hoary, frosted look, still and stiff, yet it is not so thick but that the green of the pines and the yellow of the willow bark and the leather-color of oak leaves show through it. These colors are pleasantly toned down.   February 6, 1857

February 23. 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.  February 23, 1857 

February 24.  The brightness of the willow's bark. It is a natural resurrection, an experience of immortality.  February 24, 1852

February 24. The brightening of the willows or of osiers, —that is a season in the spring, showing that the dormant sap is awakened . . .  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. February 24, 1855

March 2. 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. March 2, 1860

March 5. Was pleased with the sight of the yellow osiers of the golden willow, and the red of the cornel, now colors are so rare. March 5, 1853 

March 14. As I return by the old Merrick Bath Place, on the river,—for I still travel everywhere on the middle of the river, — the setting sun falls on the osier row toward the road and attracts my attention. They certainly look brighter now and from this point than I have noticed them before this year, — greenish and yellowish below and reddish above, — and I fancy the sap fast flowing in their pores. Yet I think that on a close inspection I should find no change. Nevertheless, it is, on the whole, perhaps the most springlike sight I have seen., March 14, 1856

March 16. There is, at any rate, such a phenomenon as the willows shining in the spring sun, however it is to be accounted for. March 16, 1856

March 17. When I am opposite the end of the willow - row, seeing the osiers of perhaps two years old all in a mass, they are seen to be very distinctly yellowish beneath and scarlet above. They are fifty rods off. Here is the same chemistry that colors the leaf or fruit, coloring the bark. It is generally, probably always the upper part of the twig, the more recent growth, that is the higher - colored and more flower or fruit like. So leaves are more ethereal the higher up and further from the root . In the bark of the twigs, indeed, is the more permanent flower or fruit. The flower falls in spring or summer, the fruit and leaves fall or wither in autumn, but the blushing twigs retain their color throughout the winter and appear more brilliant than ever the succeeding spring. They are winter fruit. It adds greatly to the pleasure of late November, of winter or of early spring walks to look into these mazes of twigs of different colors. March 17, 1859

March 20. When I get opposite the end of the willow - row, the sun comes out and they are very handsome, like a rosette, pale - tawny or fawn - colored at base and a rich yellow or orange yellow in the upper three or four feet. 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. March 20, 1859

March 22. C. thinks some willow osiers decidedly more yellow.   March 22, 1854

March 22. The phenomena of an average March. . . Vegetation fairly begins, – conferva and mosses, grass and carex, etc., — and gradually many early herbaceous plants start . . .  willow catkins become silvery, aspens downy; osiers, etc., look bright . . . alder and hazel catkins become relaxed and elongated. March 22, 1860

March 24. I am not sure that the osiers are decidedly brighter yet. March 24, 1855

March 25. Willow osiers near Mill Brook mouth I am almost certain have acquired a fresher color; at least they surprise me at a distance by their green passing through yellowish to red at top. March 25, 1854

March 27. There is an abundance of low willows whose catkins are now conspicuous, rising four to six or seven feet above the water, thickly placed on long wand-like osiers. They look, when you look from the sun, like dead gray twigs or branches (whose wood is exposed) of bushes in the light, but, nearer, are recognized for the pretty bright buttons of the willow. We sail by masses of these silvery buttons two or three rods long, rising above the water. March 27, 1859

April 3. The osiers look bright and fresh in the rain and fog, like the grass. Close at hand they are seen to be beaded with drops from the fog. There seems to be a little life in the bark now, and it strips somewhat more freely than in winter. What a lusty growth have these yellow osiers! Six feet is common the last year, chiefly from the summit of the pollards, —but also from the sides of the trunk,—filling a quadrant densely with their yellow rays. April 3, 1856

April 4. The osier bark now, as usual, looks very yellow when wet, and the wild poplar very green. April 4, 1859

April 19. These osiers to my eye have only a little more liquid green than a month ago. April 19, 1855

April 24. The willow osiers require to be seen endwise the rows, to get an intense color. April 24, 1857

April 27. I am at length convinced of the increased freshness (green or yellow) of the willow bark in the spring. Some a clear yellow, others a delightful liquid green. April 27, 1854

May 4. Notice the white willows on Hubbard's Bridge causeway, - quite a mass of green when seen aslant from this side, and have been two or three days, but as yet no bloom there nor hum of bees. Also their freshest osiers are very bright, yet I think most of it is due to the height at which the sun runs. They are priests of the sun, report his brightness, — heliometers . We do not realize how much more light there is in the day than in winter. If the ground should be covered with snow, the reflection would dazzle us and blister our faces This willow begins to be green before the aspens, say five or six days ago. May 4, 1859

May 14. Going over the Corner causeway, the willow blossoms fill the air with a sweet fragrance, and I am ready to sing, Ah! willow, willow!  These willows have yellow bark, bear yellow flowers and yellowish-green leaves, and are now haunted by the summer yellowbird and Maryland yellow-throat. May 14, 1852

See also :

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau. Willows on the Causeway

A Book of Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau. Salix cordata (heartleaf willow)

and  A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Signs of the Spring:

• A Change in the Air
• A Sunny Nook in Spring
• Alder and Willow Catkins Expanding
• Braided Ripples of Melting Snow Shine in the Ruts
• Bright Blue Water
• Buzzing Flies
• Ducks Afar, Sailing on the Meadow
• Frogs, and Turtles Stirring
• Geese Overhead
• Greening Grasses and Sedges
• I begin to think that my wood will last
• Insects and Worms Come Forth and are Active
• Listening for the Bluebird
• March is famous for its Winds
• Mosses Bright Green
• My Greatcoat on my Arm
• Perla-like Insects Appear
• Red Maple Sap Flows
• Ripples made by Fishes
• Skunks Active
• The Anxious Peep of the Early Robin
• The crowing of cocks, the cawing of crows
• The Days have grown Sensibly Longer
• The Eaves Begin to Run
• The Gobbling of Turkeys
• The Grackle Arrives
• The Hawks of March
• The New Warmth of the Sun
• The Note of the Dark-eyed Junco Going Northward
• The Red-Wing Arrives
• The Skunk Cabbage Blooms
• The Softened Air of these Warm February Days
• The Song Sparrow Sings
• The Spring Note of the Chickadee
• The Spring Note of the Nuthatch
• The Striped Squirrel Comes Out
• The Water Bug (Gyrinus)
• The Woodchuck Ventures Out
• Walking without Gloves
• Woodpeckers Tapping

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau,  the Osier in Winter and early Spring

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 ©  2009-2024

https://tinyurl.com/HDTOsier