Henry Thoreau, March 17, 1857
Perhaps what most moves us in winter
is some reminiscence of far-off summer . . .
It is in the cawing of the crow, the crowing of the cock,
the warmth of the sun on our backs.
I hear faintly the cawing of a crow far, far away,
echoing from some unseen wood-side. What a delicious sound!
It is not merely crow calling to crow, for it speaks to me too.
I am part of one great creature with him; if he has voice,
I have ears. I can hear when he calls.
January 22. Crows . . . are heard cawing in pleasant, thawing winter weather, and their note is then a pulse by which you feel the quality of the air. January 22, 1860
January 30. There are certain sounds invariably heard in warm and thawing days in winter, such as the crowing of cocks, the cawing of crows, and sometimes the gobbling of turkeys. January 30, 1860
February 8. Riordan's solitary cock, standing on such an icy snow-heap, feels the influence of the softened air, and the steam from patches of bare ground here and there, and has found his voice again. The warm air has thawed the music in his throat, and he crows lustily and unweariedly, his voice rising to the last. February 8, 1857
February 8. A different sound comes to my ear now from iron rails which are struck, as from the cawing crows, etc. Sound is not abrupt, piercing, or rending, but softly sweet and musical. February 8, 1860
February 11. I thought it would be a thawing day by the sound, the peculiar sound, of cock-crowing in the morning. February 11, 1856
February 12. The eaves run fast on the south side of houses, and, as usual in this state of the air, the cawing of crows at a distance. February 12, 1855
February 14.The distant crowing of cocks and the divine harmony of the telegraph, — all spring-promising sounds. February 14, 1854
February 16. Sounds sweet and musical through this air, as crows, cocks, and striking on the rails at a distance. February 16, 1855
February 16. The sun is most pleasantly warm on my cheek; the melting snow shines in the ruts; the cocks crow more than usual in barns; my greatcoat is an incumbrance. February 16, 1856
February 23. There is a slight mist above the fields, through which the crowing of cocks sounds springlike. February 23, 1856
February 23. I have seen signs of the spring. February 23, 1857
February 24. 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. February 24, 1852
March 2. We listen to the February cock-crowing and turkey-gobbling as to a first course, or prelude. March 2, 1859
February 12. The eaves run fast on the south side of houses, and, as usual in this state of the air, the cawing of crows at a distance. February 12, 1855
February 14.The distant crowing of cocks and the divine harmony of the telegraph, — all spring-promising sounds. February 14, 1854
February 16. Sounds sweet and musical through this air, as crows, cocks, and striking on the rails at a distance. February 16, 1855
February 16. The sun is most pleasantly warm on my cheek; the melting snow shines in the ruts; the cocks crow more than usual in barns; my greatcoat is an incumbrance. February 16, 1856
February 23. There is a slight mist above the fields, through which the crowing of cocks sounds springlike. February 23, 1856
February 23. I have seen signs of the spring. February 23, 1857
February 24. 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. February 24, 1852
March 2. We listen to the February cock-crowing and turkey-gobbling as to a first course, or prelude. March 2, 1859
March 4. We stood still a few moments and listened to hear a spring bird. We heard only the jay screaming in the distance and the cawing of a crow. March 4, 1859
March 16. The crowing of cocks and the cawing of crows tell the same story. The ice is soggy and dangerous to be walked on. March 16, 1858
March 22. The phenomena of an average March . . . About twenty-nine migratory birds arrive (including hawks and crows), and two or three more utter their spring notes and sounds, as nuthatch and chickadee, turkeys, and woodpecker tapping. March 22, 1860
See also 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
- Greening Grasses and Sedges
- 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
- The Anxious Peep of the Early Robin
- The Crowing of Cocks, the Cawing of crows
- The Gobbling of Turkeys
- The Grackle Arrives
- The Hawks of March
- 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
- Walking without Gloves
- Woodpeckers Tapping
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Signs of the Spring: The crowing of cocks, the cawing of crows
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
No comments:
Post a Comment