Showing posts with label Gowing's Swamp. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gowing's Swamp. Show all posts

Monday, February 3, 2020

The rules for speaking and writing the English language correctly.



February 3

3 p. m. — To Gowing's Swamp.

I accurately pace the swamp in two directions and find it to be shaped thus: —




When I read some of the rules for speaking and writing the English language correctly, — as that a sentence must never end with a particle, — and perceive how implicitly even the learned obey it, I think — 


Any fool can make a rule
 And every fool will mind it.


H. D. Thoreau, Journal, February 3, 1860

To Gowing's Swamp. See August 23, 1854 ("I improve the dry weather to examine the middle of Gowing's Swamp. There is in the middle an open pool, twenty or thirty feet in diameter . . .”); May 31, 1857 (“That central meadow and pool in Gowing's Swamp is its very navel,”); January 30, 1858 ("The pool, where there is nothing but water and sphagnum to be seen and where you cannot go in the summer, is about two rods long and one and a half wide."); February 1, 1858 ("When the surface of a swamp shakes for a rod around you, you may conclude that it is a network of roots two or three feet thick resting on water or a very thin mud. The surface of that swamp, composed in great part of sphagnum, is really floating.")

The rules for speaking and writing the English language correctly, — as that a sentence must never end with a particle. See January 2, 1859 ("When I hear the hypercritical quarrelling about grammar and style, the position of the particles, etc., etc.,. . . I see that they forget that the first requisite and rule is that expression shall be vital and natural. . .Essentially your truest poetic sentence is as free and lawless as a lamb’s bleat.")

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, February 3

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

Thursday, May 30, 2019

He may have thought that no one but he came to Gowing's Swamp these afternoons

May 30.

 P. M. — To Gowing's Swamp. 
Gowing's Swamp
August 23, 1854
amid the sphagnum, lambkill, Kalmia glauca, andromeda, cranberry, etc

Sorrel begins to redden fields. 


The peculiarly tender foliage (yellowish) which began to invest the dark evergreens on the 22d lasts a week or more, growing darker.


May 30, 2019
No American mountain-ash out. 

When I entered the interior meadow of Gowing's Swamp I heard a slight snort, and found that I had suddenly come upon a woodchuck amid the sphagnum, lambkill, Kalmia glauca, andromeda, cranberry, etc., there. It was only seven feet off, and, being surprised, would not run. It would only stand erect from time to time, — perfectly erect with its blackish paws held like hands near together in front, — just so as to bring its head, or eyes, above the level of the lambkill, kalmia, etc., and look round, turning now this ear toward me, then that; and every now and then it would make a short rush at me, half a foot or so, with a snort, and then draw back, and also grit its teeth — which it showed — very audibly, with a rattling sound, evidently to intimidate me. I could not drive it, but it would steadily face me and rush toward me thus. Also it made a short motion occasionally as if to bury itself by burrowing there. It impressed me as a singularly wild and grizzly [sic] native, survivor of the red man. 

He may have thought that no one but he came to Gowing's Swamp these afternoons. 

Its colors were gray, reddish brown, and blackish, the gray-tipped wind hairs giving it a grizzly look above, and when it stood up its distinct rust-color beneath was seen, while the top of its head was dark-brown, becoming black at snout, as also its paws and its little rounded ears. Its head from snout to ears, when it stood up erect, made a nearly horizontal line. It did much looking round. When thus erect, its expression and posture were very bear-like, with the clumsiness of the bear. Though I drew off three or four rods, it would not retreat into the thicket (which was only a rod off) while I was there so near. 

The scheuchzeria is at height or past. 

E. Emerson's Calla palustris out the 27th. 

Eleocharis palustris, R. W. E.'s meadow, not long. 

Hear of linnaea out, the 28th.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, May 30, 1859

Sorrel begins to redden fields. See May 19, 1860 ("Sorrel just begins to redden some fields"); May 22, 1854 ("The grass so short and fresh, the tender yellowish-green and silvery foliage of the deciduous trees lighting up the landscape, the birds now most musical, the sorrel beginning to redden the fields with ruddy health, — all these things make earth now a paradise.");  May 26, 1852 ("Walking home from surveying, the fields are just beginning to be reddened with sorrel. "); June 12, 1859 ("I am struck with the beauty of the sorrel now. . . What a wholesome red! . . . There is hardly a more agreeable sight at this season.")


The peculiarly tender foliage (yellowish) which began to invest the dark evergreens on the 22d lasts a week or more, growing darker. See note to May 22, 1859 ("The foliage is never more conspicuously a tender yellow than now. This lasts a week from this date, and then begins to be confounded with the older green. "). See also May 27, 1855("How important the dark evergreens now seen through the haze in the distance and contrasting with the gauze-like, as yet thin-clad deciduous trees"); May 26, 1857 ("The silvery leafets of the deciduous trees invest the woods like a permanent mist. At the same season with this haze of buds comes also the kindred haziness of the air.")


The interior meadow of Gowing's Swamp. See note to January 30, 1858  ("The pool, where there is nothing but water and sphagnum to be seen and where you cannot go in the summer, is about two rods long and one and a half wide.")

Its colors were gray, reddish brown, and blackish, the gray-tipped wind hairs giving it a grizzly look above, and when it stood up its distinct rust-color beneath was seen, while the top of its head was dark-brown, becoming black at snout, as also its paws and its little rounded ears. See note to April 29, 1855 ("See his shining black eyes and black snout and his little erect ears. He is of a light brown forward at this distance (hoary above, yellowish or sorrel beneath), gradually darkening backward to the end of the tail, which is dark-brown. The general aspect is grizzly.")

May 30 See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, May 30


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

Thursday, June 14, 2018

Interrupted ferns now coming up afresh from the root.

June 14. 

Miss Pratt brings me the fertile barberry from northeast the great yellow birch. The staminate is apparently effete. 

Young partridges, when? 

P. M. — To Gowing's Swamp. 

I notice interrupted ferns, which were killed, fruit and all, by the frosts of the 28th and 29th of May, now coming up afresh from the root. The barren fronds seem to have stood it better. 

See in a meadow a song sparrow's nest with three eggs, and another egg just buried level with the bottom of the nest. Probably it is one of a previous laying, which the bird considered addled. I find it to be not at all developed, nor yet spoiled. 

Common garden columbine, broad and purple, by roadside, fifty rods below James Wright's. 

The river is raised surprisingly by the rain of the 12th. The Mill Brook has been over the Turnpike.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal  June 14, 1858


Young partridges. See June 11, 1856 ("A partridge with young in the Saw Mill Brook path."); June 23, 1854 ("Disturb three different broods of partridges in my walk this afternoon in different places.")

A song sparrow's nest with three eggs. See June 14, 1855 ("A song sparrow’s nest in ditch bank under Clamshell, of coarse grass lined with fine, and five eggs nearly hatched and a peculiar dark end to them."); June 13, 1858 ("A song sparrow's nest here in a little spruce . . . — a very thick, firm, and portable nest, an inverted cone; — four eggs. They build them in a peculiar manner in these sphagnous swamps, elevated apparently on account of water.")

Thursday, February 1, 2018

The floating surface of Gowing's Swamp


February  1

Measured Gowing's Swamp two and a half rods northeast of the middle of the hole, i. e. in the andromeda and sphagnum near its edge, where I stand in the summer; also five rods northeast of the middle of the open hole, or in the midst of the andromeda. 

In both these places the pole went hard at first, but broke through a crust of roots and sphagnum at about three feet beneath the surface, and I then easily pushed the pole down just twenty feet. This being a small pole, I could not push it any further holding it by the small end; it bent then. With a longer and stiffer pole I could probably have fathomed thirty feet. 

It seems, then, that there is, over this andromeda swamp, a crust about three feet thick, of sphagnum, andromeda (calyculata and Polifolia), and Kalmia glauca, etc., beneath which there is almost clear water, and, under that, an exceedingly thin mud.

There can be no soil above that mud, and yet there were three or four larch trees three feet high or more between these holes, or over exactly the same water, and there were small spruces near by. For aught that appears, the swamp is as deep under the andromeda as in the middle. 

The two andromedas and the Kalmia glauca may be more truly said to grow in water than in soil there. When the surface of a swamp shakes for a rod around you, you may conclude that it is a network of roots two or three feet thick resting on water or a very thin mud. The surface of that swamp, composed in great part of sphagnum, is really floating. 

It evidently begins with sphagnum, which floats on the surface of clear water, and, accumulating, at length affords a basis for that large-seeded sedge (?), andromedas, etc. The filling up of a swamp, then, in this case at least, is not the result of a deposition of vegetable matter washed into it, settling to the bottom and leaving the surface clear, so filling it up from the bottom to the top; but the vegetation first extends itself over it as a film, which gradually thickens till it supports shrubs and completely conceals the water, and the under part of this crust drops to the bottom, so that it is filled up first at the top and the bottom, and the middle part is the last to be reclaimed from the water. 

Perhaps this swamp is in the process of becoming peat. 

This swamp has been partially drained by a ditch. 

I fathomed also two rods within the edge of the blue berry bushes, in the path, but I could not force a pole down more than eight feet five inches; so it is much more solid there, and the blueberry bushes require a firmer soil than the water andromeda. 

This is a regular quag, or shaking surface, and in this way, evidently, floating islands are formed. I am not sure but that meadow, with all its bushes in it, would float a man-of-war.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, February 1, 1858

With a longer and stiffer pole I could probably have fathomed thirty feet. See January 30, 1858 ("Cut another maple thirty feet long and between four and five inches thick at the butt, sharpened and trimmed and carried it on my shoulder to the spot, and, rough as it was, it went down with very little pressure as much as twenty feet, and with a little more pressure twenty-six feet and one inch.")

There is a crust about three feet thick of sphagnum, andromeda  and Kalmia glauca, beneath which there is almost clear water. See January 30, 1858 ("To my surprise, I found clear water under this crust of sphagnum"); February 3, 1860 ("I accurately pace the swamp in two directions and find it to be shaped thus"): —
August 23, 1854 ("There is . . . an abrupt edge next the water, this on a dense bed of quaking sphagnum, in which I sink eighteen inches in water, upheld by its matted roots, where I fear to break through”).


This swamp has been partially drained by a ditch
. See November 23, 1857 ("This swamp appears not to have had any natural outlet, though an artificial one has been dug. The same is perhaps the case with the C. Miles Swamp. And is it so with Beck Stow's These three are the only places where I have found the Andromeda Polifolia. The Kalmia glauca in Gowing's, C. Miles's, and Holden's swamps. The latter has no outlet of any kind.")


The shaking surface
composed in part of sphagnum
is really floating.

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The floating surface of Gowing's Swamp
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 © 2009-2025

Tuesday, January 30, 2018

Measuring the depth of Gowing's Swamp



January 30. 

P. M. – To Gowing's Swamp. 

I thought it would be a good time to rake in the mud of that central pool, and see what animal or vegetable life might be there, now that it is frozen. I supposed that tortoises and frogs might be buried in the mud. 

The pool, where there is nothing but water and sphagnum to be seen and where you cannot go in the summer, is about two rods long and one and a half wide, with that large-seeded sedge in a border a rod wide about it. Only a third of this (on one side) appears as water now, the rest a level bed of green sphagnum frozen with the water, though rising three or four inches above the general level here and there. 

I cut a hole through the ice, about three inches thick, in what alone appeared to be water, and, after raking out some sphagnum, found that I could not fairly reach the mud and tortoises, – if there are any there, — though my rake was five feet and nine inches long; but with the sphagnum I raked up several kinds of bugs, or insects. 

I then cut a hole through the frozen sphagnum nearer the middle of the pool, though I supposed it would be a mere mass of sphagnum with comparatively little water, and more mud nearer the surface. To my surprise, I found clear water under this crust of sphagnum to about five feet in depth, but still I could not reach the mud with my rake through the more decayed sphagnum beneath.

I returned to the thicket and cut a maple about eighteen feet long. This dropped down five or six feet, and then, with a very slight pressure, I put it down the whole length. I then went to the thicket again, searched a long while for a suitable pole, and at last cut another maple thirty feet long and between four and five inches thick at the butt, sharpened and trimmed and carried it on my shoulder to the spot, and, rough as it was, it went down with very little pressure as much as twenty feet, and with a little more pressure twenty-six feet and one inch; and there I left it, for I had measured it first. If the top had not been so small that it bent in my hands, I could probably have forced it much further. 

I suspect that the depth of mud and water under where I walk in summer on the water andromeda, Andromeda Polifolia, Kalmia glauca, sphagnum, etc., is about the same. The whole swamp would flow off down an inclined plane. 

Of course there is room enough for frogs and turtles, safe from frost. 

I noticed that the sap flowed very freely from one of the maples which I cut. 

In the meanwhile the hole which I had first cut had skimmed over. I stooped to look at the ice-crystals. The thin skimming, which did not yet cover the whole surface, was minutely marked with feathers, as in the frost on windows in the morning. The crystallization was, as usual, in deep furrows, some a third of an inch wide and finely grained or channelled longitudinally. These commonly intersected each other so as to form triangles of various sizes, and it was remarkable that there was an elevated space between the sides of the triangles, which in some cases was not yet frozen, while you could see and feel the furrow where the crystals had shot on each side much lower. The water crystallizes in certain planes only. 

It seems, then, that sphagnum will grow on the surface of water five feet deep!

What means the maple sap flowing in pleasant days in midwinter, when you must wait so late in the spring for it, in warmer weather? It is a very encouraging sign of life now.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, January 30, 1858

I supposed that tortoises and frogs might be buried in the mud. See November 23, 1857 ("Garfield, who was working in what was Moore's Swamp, tells me that he sometimes digs up frogs in the winter, when ditching in springy places, one at a time."); December 13, 1857 ("Apparently many [tortoises] winter in the mud of these ponds and pond-holes.")

The pool, where there is nothing but water and sphagnum to be seen and where you cannot go in the summer, is about two rods long and one and a half wide. See November 23, 1857 ("I looked down over the large open space with its navel pool in the centre."); See May 31, 1857 (“That central meadow and pool in Gowing's Swamp is its very navel,”); August 23, 1854 ("There is in the middle an open pool, twenty or thirty feet in diameter,. . .an abrupt edge next the water, this on a dense bed of quaking sphagnum, in which I sink eighteen inches in water, upheld by its matted roots, where I fear to break through. On this the spatulate sundew abounds.”). See also February 1, 1858 ("When the surface of a swamp shakes for a rod around you, you may conclude that it is a network of roots two or three feet thick resting on water or a very thin mud. The surface of that swamp, composed in great part of sphagnum, is really floating.")

What means the maple sap flowing in pleasant days in midwinter, when you must wait so late in the spring for it. See March 14, 1856 ("Tapped several white maples with my knife, but find no sap flowing; but, just above Pinxter Swamp, one red maple limb was moistened by sap trickling along the bark.")

Thursday, November 23, 2017

A walk through Gowing’s Swamp.

November 23. 


Gowing’s Swamp
August 23, 1854

Monday. P. M. — To Gowing's Swamp. 

Garfield, who was working in what was Moore's Swamp, tells me that he sometimes digs up frogs in the winter, when ditching in springy places, one at a time. He is very much troubled by the short-tailed meadow mouse in that meadow. They live under the stumps, and gnaw his potatoes in the fall. He thought that his little dog, a terrier, had killed a bushel of them the past year. 

At the back of Gowing's hillside, just west of his swamp, in the midst of shrub oaks and other dry up land trees, the ground slopes regularly on all sides to a deep round hollow, perhaps fifteen feet lower than the lowest side and thirty feet in diameter at the bottom. The bottom is rather wet and covered with sphagnum, and many stiff and dead-looking button-bushes stand in it, while all around a dense high hedge of high blueberry curves over it. So sudden a change there will be in the vegetation with a change of soil. Many such a dimple with its peculiar vegetations have I seen in a dry wood-lot. The Vaccinium corymbosum and panicled andromeda in a dense hedge, in a circular or oval or other curved form, surrounding and slanting over it so as almost to conceal it; and in the same manner the blueberry, etc., will grow around and overhang the largest ponds. 

Walked through Gowing's Swamp from west to east. You may say it is divided into three parts, – first, the thin woody; second, the coarse bushy or gray; and third, the fine bushy or brown. 

First: The trees are larch, white birch, red maple, spruce, white pine, etc. 

Second: The coarse bushy part, or blueberry thicket, consists of high blueberry, panicled andromeda, Amelanchier Canadensis var. oblongifolia, swamp-pink, choke-berry, Viburnum nudum, rhodora, (and probably prinos, holly, etc., etc., not distinguishable easily now), but chiefly the first two. Much of the blueberry being dead gives it a very gray as well as scraggy as pect. It is a very bad thicket to break through, yet there are commonly thinner places, or often opens, by which you may wind your way about the denser clumps. Small specimens of the trees are mingled with these and also some water andromeda and lamb-kill. 

Third: There are the smooth brown and wetter spaces where the water andromeda chiefly prevails, together with purplish lamb-kill about the sides of them, and hairy huckleberry; but in the midst and wettest part the narrow revolute and glaucous (beneath) leaves of the Andromeda Polifolia and Kalmia glauca are seen, and in the sphagnum the Vaccinium Oxycoccus. In one of the latter portions occurs that open pool.

Sphagnum is found everywhere in the swamp. 

First, there is the dark wooded part; second, the scraggy gray blueberry thicket; third, the rich brown water andromeda spaces. 

The high blueberry delights singularly in these localities. You distinguish it by its gray spreading mass; its light-gray bark, rather roughened; its thickish shoots, often crimson; and its plump, roundish red buds. Think of its wreaths and canopies of cool blue fruit in August, thick as the stars in the Milky Way! The panicled andromeda is upright, light-gray, with a rather smoother bark, more slender twigs, and small, sharp red buds lying close to the twig. The blueberry is particularly hard to break through, it is so spreading and scraggy, but a hare can double swiftly enough beneath it. The ground of sphagnum is now thickly strewn with the leaves of these shrubs. 

The water andromeda makes a still more uniformly dense thicket, which must be nearly impervious to some animals; but as man lifts his head high above it, finds but little difficulty in making his way through it, though it sometimes comes up to his middle, and if his eye scans its surface it makes an impression of smoothness and denseness, – its rich brown, whole some surface, even as grass or moss. 

Ascending the high land on the south, I looked down over the large open space with its navel pool in the centre. This green stagnant pool, rayed with the tracks or trails of musquash and making but a feeble watery impression, reminded me of portions of the map of the moon. 

This swamp appears not to have had any natural outlet, though an artificial one has been dug. The same is perhaps the case with the C. Miles Swamp. And is it so with Beck Stow's These three are the only places where I have found the Andromeda Polifolia. The Kalmia glauca in Gowing's, C. Miles's, and Holden's swamps. The latter has no outlet of any kind. 

I am interested in those plants, like panicled andromeda, shrub oak, etc., for which no use that I know has been discovered. The panicled andromeda, instead of the date tree, might be my coat-of arms. 

Fresh slender shoots of the Viburnum nudum make very good withes, I find. 

Austin Bacon told me that the worst swamp he ever found was not in Vermont or up country where he had surveyed, but in Newton (?), where he surveyed for a road once. The water was about two feet deep, and you jumped from tussock to tussock; these generally tipped over with you into the water. 

There is a strong and warm southwest wind, which brings the frost out of the ground, — more than I thought was in it, — making the surface wet. 

Walking along the top of Gowing's hill wood-lot, I see from time to time large ant-hills amid the young oaks. Often their tops have been disturbed and flattened, by some creature apparently. Some may be deserted. The sedge-grass has sprung up long and thick about the sides of these mounds, though there may be none amid the oaks around. The working of the ants keeps clear a little space amid the bushes. 

In the evening heavy rain and some thunder and lightning, and rain in the night.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, November 23, 1857

I looked down over the large open space with its navel pool in the centre. See May 31, 1857 (“That central meadow and pool in Gowing's Swamp is its very navel,”); August 23, 1854 ("There is in the middle an open pool, twenty or thirty feet in diameter,. . .an abrupt edge next the water, this on a dense bed of quaking sphagnum, in which I sink eighteen inches in water, upheld by its matted roots, where I fear to break through. On this the spatulate sundew abounds.”).

Water andromeda chiefly prevails, together with purplish lamb-kill about the sides of them, and hairy huckleberry; but in the midst and wettest part the narrow revolute and glaucous (beneath) leaves of the Andromeda Polifolia and Kalmia glauca are seen, and in the sphagnum the Vaccinium Oxycoccus. See February 17, 1854 (“In these swamps, then, you have three kinds of andromeda. The main swamp is crowded with high blueberry, panicled andromeda, prinos, swamp-pink, etc., etc., and then in the middle or deepest part will be an open space not yet quite given up to water, where the Andromeda calyculata and a few A. Polifolia reign almost alone.”); August 23, 1854 (“Next comes, half a dozen rods wide, a dense bed of Andromeda calyculata, — the A. Polifolia mingled with it, — the rusty cotton- grass, cranberries, — the common and also V. Oxycoccus, — pitcher-plants, sedges, and a few young spruce and larch here and there,”); August 30, 1856 ("Consider how remote and novel that swamp. Beneath it is a quaking bed of sphagnum, and in it grow Andromeda Polifolia, Kalmia glauca, menyanthes (or buck -bean), Gaylussacia dumosa, Vaccinium Oxycoccus, — plants which scarcely a citizen of Concord ever sees.”) See also Gowing's; Swamp historical survey and botanical inventory (2010) (Rare or unusual plants remaining today at Gowing’s Swamp include:
  • Black spruce (Picea marianna)
  • Bog rosemary (Andromeda polifolia)
  • Bog or pale laurel (Kalmia polifolia)
  • Purple pitcher-plant (Sarracenia purpurea)
  • Round-leaved sundew (Drosera rotundifolia)
  • Small-flowered cranberry (Vaccinium oxycoccus)
  • Tawny cotton sedge (Eriophorum virginicum)
  • 53 lichen species, including 3 not found elsewhere in the local area (Cladoniaincrassata, Parmeliopsis subambigua, and Pseudevernia consocians)
  • Mountain holly (Nemopanthus mucronatus))
Andromeda polifolia. See July14, 1853 (“Saw something blue, or glaucous, in Beck Stow's Swamp to-day; approached and discovered the Andromeda Polifolia, in the midst of the swamp at the north end, not long since out of bloom. This is another instance of a common experi ence. When I am shown from abroad, or hear of, or in any [way] become interested in, some plant or other thing, I am pretty sure to find it soon. Within a week R. W. E. showed me a slip of this in a botany, as a great rarity which George Bradford brought from Watertown. I had long been interested in it by Linnaeus's account. I now find it in abundance.”)

V. Oxycoccus.  See August 23, 1854 (“I find a new cranberry on the sphagnum amid the A. calyculata, — V. Oxycoccus . . .It has small, now purplish-dotted fruit, flat on the sphagnum, some turned scarlet partly, on terminal peduncles, with slender, thread-like stems and small leaves strongly revolute on the edges.”)

Kalmia glauca var. rosmarinifolia. See January 9, 1855 (“Make a splendid discovery this afternoon. Walking through Holden’s white spruce swamp,  I see peeping above the snow-crust some slender delicate evergreen shoots very much like the Andromeda Polifolia, amid sphagnum, lambkill, Andromeda calyculata, blueberry bushes, etc., though there is very little to be seen above the snow. It is, I have little doubt, the Kalmia glauca var. rosmarinifolia.”)


Saturday, November 18, 2017

Such is November

November 18


P. M. — To Dam Meadows.

November 18, 2023
such is november


Going along the Bedford road at Moore's Swamp, I hear the dry rustling of seedy rattlesnake grass in the wind, a November sound, within a rod of me. 

The sunlight is a peculiarly thin and clear yellow, falling on the pale-brown bleaching herbage of the fields at this season. There is no redness in it. This is November sunlight. 

Much cold, slate-colored cloud, bare twigs seen gleaming toward the light like gossamer, pure green of pines whose old leaves have fallen, reddish or yellowish brown oak leaves rustling on the hillsides, very pale brown, bleaching, almost hoary fine grass or hay in the fields, akin to the frost which has killed it, and flakes of clear yellow sunlight falling on it here and there, — such is November. 

The fine grass killed by the frost, withered and bleached till it is almost silvery, has clothed the fields for a long time. 

Now, as in the spring, we rejoice in sheltered and sunny places. 

Some corn is left out still even. What a mockery to turn cattle out into such pastures! Yet I see more in the fields now than earlier. 

I hear a low concert from the edge of Gowing's Swamp, amid the maples, etc., - suppressed warblings from many flitting birds. With my glass I see only tree sparrows, and suppose it is they. 

What I noticed for the thousandth time on the 15th was the waved surface of thin dark ice just frozen, as if it were a surface composed of large, perhaps triangular pieces raised at the edges; i. e., the filling up between the original shooting of the crystals – the midribs of the icy leaves – is on a lower plane. 

Flannery is the hardest-working man I know. Before surrise and long after sunset he is taxing his unweariable muscles. The result is a singular cheerfulness. He is always in good spirits. He often overflows with his joy when you perceive no occasion for it. If only the gate sticks, some of it bubbles up and over flows in his passing comment on that accident. How much mere industry proves! There is a sparkle often in his passing remark, and his voice is really like that of a bird. 

Crows will often come flying much out of their way to caw at me. 

In one light, these are old and worn-out fields that I ramble over, and men have gone to law about them long before I was born, but I trust that I ramble over them in a new fashion and redeem them. 

I noticed on the 15th that that peculiar moraine or horseback just this side of J. P. Brown's extends southerly of Nut Meadow Brook in the woods, maybe a third or a half a mile long in all. The rocks laid bare here and there by ditching in the Dam Meadows are very white, having no lichens on them. 

The musquash should appear in the coat of arms of some of the States, it is so common. I do not go by any permanent pool but, sooner or later, I hear its plunge there. Hardly a bit of board floats in any ditch or pond hole but this creature has left its traces on it.

How singularly rivers in their sources overlap each other! There is the meadow behind Brooks Clark’s and at the head of which Sted Buttock’s handsome maple lot stands, on the old Carlisle road. The stream which drains this empties into the Assabet at Dove Rock. A short distance west of this meadow, but a good deal more elevated, is Boaz's meadow, whose water finds its way, naturally or artificially, northeast ward around the other, crossing the road just this side the lime-kiln, and empties into the Saw Mill Brook and so into the main river. 

There are many ways of feeling one's pulse. In a healthy state the constant experience is a pleasurable sensation or sentiment. For instance, in such a state I find myself in perfect connection with nature, and the perception, or remembrance even, of any natural phenomena is attended with a gentle pleasurable excitement. Prevailing sights and sounds make the impression of beauty and music on me. 

But in sickness all is deranged. I had yesterday a kink in my back and a general cold, and as usual it amounted to a cessation of life. I lost for the time my rapport or relation to nature. 

Sympathy with nature is an evidence of perfect health. You cannot perceive beauty but with a serene mind. 

The cheaper your amusements, the safer and saner. They who think much of theatres, operas, and the like, are beside themselves. 

Each man's necessary path, though as obscure and apparently uneventful as that of a beetle in the grass, is the way to the deepest joys he is susceptible of; though he converses only with moles and fungi and disgraces his relatives, it is no matter if he knows what is steel to his flint. 

Many a man who should rather describe his dinner imposes on us with a history of the Grand Khan.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, November 18, 1857

The sunlight is a peculiarly thin and clear yellow, falling on the pale-brown bleaching herbage of the fields at this season. There is no redness in it. This is November sunlight. See October 25, 1858 ("Call these November Lights. Hers is a cool, silvery light.”); October 27, 1858 ("We have a cool, white sunset, Novemberish, and no redness to warm our thoughts."); November 11, 1851 (" Every withered blade of grass and every dry weed, as well as pine-needle, reflects light.”); November 11, 1853 ("Bracing cold, and exhilarating sunlight on russet and frosty fields. “); November 14, 1853 (" the clear, white, leafless twilight of November,"); November 25, 1857 (“[T]he thinnest yellow light of November is more warming and exhilarating than any wine they tell of”)

Now, as in the spring, we rejoice in sheltered and sunny places. See October 26, 1852 ("At this season we seek warm sunny lees and hillsides, as that under the pitch pines by Walden shore, where we cuddle and warm ourselves in the sun as by a fire, where we may get some of its reflected as well as direct heat.”); April 26, 1857 (“At this season still we go seeking the sunniest, most sheltered, and warmest place. . . . 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.”)

I hear a low concert . . . suppressed warblings from many flitting birds. With my glass I see only tree sparrows, and suppose it is they. See  November 4, 1860 ("To-day also I see distinctly the tree sparrows, and probably saw them, as supposed, some days ago. Thus the birch begins to shed its seed about the time our winter birds arrive from the north.”); November 20, 1857 ("The hardy tree sparrow has taken the place of the chipping and song sparrow, so much like the former that most do not know it is another. His faint lisping chip will keep our spirits up till another spring."); November 27, 1856 "Take a turn down the river . . .apparently tree sparrows along the shore.”)


Crows will often come flying much out of their way to caw at me. September 18, 1852 ("The crows congregate and pursue me through the half-covered woodland path, cawing loud and angrily above me . . .”)

Sympathy with nature is an evidence of perfect health. You cannot perceive beauty but with a serene mind. See August 23, 1853 (""Nature" is but another name for health, and the seasons are but different states of health.”); May 28, 1854 (“To be serene and successful we must be at one with the universe”); June 5, 1854 (“I have come to this hill to see the sun go down, to recover sanity and put myself again in relation with Nature. ”); July 14, 1854 ("Health is a sound relation to nature.”)

I had yesterday a kink in my back and a general cold, and as usual it amounted to a cessation of life. I lost for the time my rapport or relation to nature. See June 21, 1852 ("Nature has looked uncommonly bare and dry to me for a day or two. With our senses applied to the surrounding world we are reading our own physical and corresponding moral revolutions. Nature was so shallow all at once I did not know what had attracted me all my life. ")

Crows will often come 
flying much out of their way 
to caw at me.


November sunlight.
Thin and clear yellow sunlight –
no redness in it.
November 18, 1857

tinyurl.com/HDT571118

Saturday, July 8, 2017

Edith Emerson shows me Oldenlandia purpurea.

July 8. 

P. M. — To Laurel Glen. 

A chewink's nest with four young just hatched, at the bottom of the pyrola hollow and grove, where it is so dry, about seven feet southwest of a white pine. 

Counted the rings of a white pine stump, sawed off last winter at Laurel Glen. It was three and a half feet diameter and has one hundred and twenty-six rings. 

Chimaphila umbellata, apparently a day or two. 

I find the Pyrola secunda only on the point of expanding. 

Hear apparently redstarts there, — so they must have nests near, — also pine warblers and till tilts. 

Later. — To Gowing's Swamp. 

The Gaylussacia dumosa is now in prime at least. 


The drosera, round and spatulate leafed, is very abundant and handsome on the sphagnum in the open spaces, amid the Andromeda calyculata and polifolia. 


Pogonia ophioglossoides
(
Portsmouth Public Library)
Find a Pogonia ophioglossoides with a third leaf and second flower an inch above the first flower. 

Edith Emerson shows me Oldenlandia purpurea var. longifolia, which she saw very abundantly in bloom on the Blue Hills (Bigelow's locality) on the 29th of June. Says she has seen the pine-sap this year in Concord.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 8, 1857

A white pine stump . . . was three and a half feet diameter and has one hundred and twenty-six rings. See November 18, 1852 ("Measured a stick of round timber, probably white pine, on the cars this afternoon, -- ninety-five feet long, nine and ten-twelfths in circumference at butt. . .. From Vermont.”); November 1, 1860 ("Measure some pine stumps on Tommy Wheeler's land [cut] four years ago. One, having 164 rings, sprang up at least one hundred and sixty-eight years ago, or about the year 1692, or fifty-seven years after the settlement, 1635.”)

I find the Pyrola secunda only on the point of expanding. See March 7, 1855 ("The Pyrola secunda is a perfect evergreen. It has lost none of its color or freshness, with its thin ovate finely serrate leaves, revealed now the snow is gone.”)

Hear apparently redstarts there, — so they must have nests near . . . See July 13, 1856 (“Saw and heard two or three redstarts at Redstart Woods, where they probably have nests. ”); June 23, 1855 ("Probably a redstart’s nest on a white oak sapling, twelve feet up, on forks against stem. Have it. See young redstarts about.”)
 
The drosera, round and spatulate leafed, is very abundant . . .See July 13,, 1856 ("Hubbard's meadow — . . . Drosera longifolia and also rotundifolia, some time.”)

Find a Pogonia ophioglossoides with a third leaf and second flower an inch above the first flower:
  • The snakemouth orchid or rose pogonia is  distinctive orchid, with a pink flower and a single clasping leaf half way up the stem. The specific name (ophioglossoides) refers to the fact that Adder's tongue ferns (Ophioglossum), have a similar single leaf half way up the stem. ~ GoBotany
  •  P. ophioglossoides. Snake-mouthed Arethusa, from which genus it was taken; stem nearly a foot high, with a single flower, nodding and pale-purple, and one oval-lanceolate leaf, and a leafy bract near the flower; lip fimbriate; swamps; July. The flower resembles a snake's head, whence its specific name. ~ Reports on the herbaceous plants and on the quadrupeds of Massachusetts 199(1840).
Oldenlandia purpurea var. longifolia.  Long leaved bluet (Houstonia) ~ Gobotany

Edith Emerson shows me Oldenlandia purpurea var. longifolia . . .See note to May 29, 1856 ("Found a painted-cup with more yellow than usual in it, and at length Edith found one perfectly yellow. . . ")

Monday, July 3, 2017

My pool in Gowing's Swamp used to be called Duck Pond,


July 3. 

July 3,  2017


Minott says that old Joe Merriam used to tell of his shooting black ducks in the Dam meadows and what luck he had. One day he had shot a couple of ducks and was bringing them home by the legs, when he came to a ditch. As he had his gun in the other hand, and the ditch was wide, he thought he would toss the ducks over before he jumped, but they had no sooner struck the ground than they picked themselves up and flew away, which discouraged him with respect to duck-shooting. 

M. says that my pool in Gowing's Swamp used to be called Duck Pond, though he does not know of ducks settling there. Perhaps they did anciently. He once fell into a deep hole when going after blueberries in the town (?) swamp beyond his own meadow. He stepped on to some "water-brush" (probably water andromeda), and suddenly sank very deep, spraining his hand, which he put out to save himself. He once killed a black duck in Beck Stow's Swamp, but could not get it on account of the water. Somebody else got a boat and got it. 

Thus the ducks and geese will frequent a swamp where there is considerable water, in the spring. 

Minott was sitting in his shed as usual, while his handsome pullets were perched on the wood within two feet of him, the rain having driven them to this shelter. 

There always were poor and rich as now, — in that first year when our ancestors lived on pumpkins and raccoons, as now when flour is imported from the West.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 3, 1857

My pool in Gowing's Swamp. See August 23, 1854 ("I improve the dry weather to examine the middle of Gowing's Swamp. There is in the middle an open pool, twenty or thirty feet in diameter . . .”); May 31, 1857 ("That central meadow and pool in Gowing's Swamp is its very navel, omphalos, where the umbilical cord was cut that bound it to creation's womb.. . .”)

Minott was sitting in his shed as usual, while his handsome pullets were perched on the wood within two feet of him. See February 20, 1857 ("Minott always sits in the corner behind the door, close to the stove, with commonly the cat by his side, often in his lap. Often he sits with his hat on"); September 30, 1857 ("Talked with Minott, who was sitting, as usual, in his wood-shed. His hen and chickens, finding it cold these nights on the trees behind the house, had begun last night to roost in the shed, and one by one walked or hopped up a ladder within a foot of his shoulder to the loft above. He sits there so much like a fixture that they do not regard him."); August 16, 1858 ("Talked with Minott, who sits in his wood-shed, having, as I notice, several seats there for visitors, —one a block on the sawhorse, another a patchwork mat on a wheelbarrow, etc., etc. His half-grown chickens, which roost overhead, perch on his shoulder or knee.")

Sunday, July 2, 2017

We find only the world we look for.

July 2

Partridge-berry in bloom
(Mitchella repens)
July 2, 2017
(avesong)
P. M. — To Gowing's Swamp. 

Flannery says that there was a frost this morning in Moore's Swamp on the Bedford road, where he has potatoes. He observed something white on the potatoes about 3.30 a. m. and, stooping, breathed on and melted it. Minott says he has known a frost every month in the year, but at this season it would be a black frost, which bites harder than a white one. 

The Gaylussacia dumosa var. hirtella, not yet quite in prime. This is commonly an inconspicuous bush, eight to twelve inches high, half prostrate over the sphagnum in which it grows, together with the andromedas, European cranberry, etc., etc., but sometimes twenty inches high quite on the edge of the swamp. It has a very large and peculiar bell-shaped flower, with prominent ribs and a rosaceous tinge, and is not to be mistaken for the edible huckleberry or blueberry blossom. 

The flower deserves a more particular description than Gray gives it. But Bigelow says well of its corolla that it is "remarkable for its distinct, five angled form." Its segments are a little recurved. The calyx-segments are acute and pink at last; the racemes, elongated, about one inch long, one-sided; the corolla, narrowed at the mouth, but very wide above; the calyx, with its segments, pedicels, and the whole raceme (and indeed the leaves somewhat), glandular-hairy. 

Calla palustris (with its convolute point like the cultivated) at the south end of Gowing's Swamp. Having found this in one place, I now find it in another. 

Many an object is not seen, though it falls within the range of our visual ray, because it does not come within the range of our intellectual ray, i. e., we are not looking for it. So, in the largest sense, we find only the world we look for. 


July 2, 2017

I hear many Maryland yellow-throats about the edge of this swamp, and even [?] near their nests. Indeed, I find one or two old ones suspended much like a red-wing's amid the water andromeda. They are quite small and of such material as this bird chooses. 

I see amid the Andromeda Polifolia pure bright crimson leaves, and, looking closely, find that in many instances one branch, affected by a kind of disease, bears very handsome light-crimson leaves, two or three times as wide as usual, of the usual white color beneath, which contrast strangely with the slender green and glaucous ones on the contiguous branches. 

The water andromeda has similar crimson leaves, only proportionally larger and coarser, showing the dots. These are very common. Those of the Polifolia far more delicate. 

Pogonia ophioglossoides apparently in a day or two.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 2, 1857

The Gaylussacia dumosa var. hirtella, not yet quite in prime. . . . not to be mistaken for the edible huckleberry or blueberry blossom. See June 25, 1857 ("To Gowing's Swamp. . . . Gaylussacia dumosa apparently in a day or two.”):
  • Dwarf huckleberry (Gaylussacia bigeloviana or Gaylussacia dumosa is a northern plant that occurs in bogs and fens. Its delicate, bell-like flowers tinged in pink mature into juicy black fruits, which are eaten by ruffed grouse, quail, turkeys, foxes, and squirrels.~ GoBotany
 See also   August 30, 1856 (“I noticed also a few small peculiar-looking huckleberries hanging on bushes amid the sphagnum, and, tasting, perceived that they were hispid, a new kind to me. Gaylussacia dumosa var. hirtella . . .. Has a small black hairy or hispid berry, shining but insipid and inedible, with a tough, hairy skin left in the mouth.”);August 8, 1858 (“the Gaylussacia dumosa var. hiriella . . . the only inedible species of  Vaccinieoe that I know in this town”)

It grows, together with the andromedas, European cranberry, etc., etc. See August 30, 1856 "(I have come out this afternoon a-cranberrying, chiefly to gather some of the small cranberry, Vaccinium Oxycoccus, which Emerson says is the common cranberry of the north of Europe.")

Calla palustris . . . at the south end of Gowing's Swamp. Having found this in one place, I now find it in another. See May 29, 1856 (“Where you find a rare flower, expect to find more rare ones.”); June 19, 1856 ("Looked at a collection of the rarer plants made by Higginson and placed at the Natural History Rooms. Among which noticed:. . . the Calla palustris”); June 7, 1857 (“Pratt has got the Calla palustris, in prime. . .from the bog near Bateman's Pond”); June 9, 1857( “The calla is generally past prime and going to seed. I had said to Pratt, "It will be worth the while to look for other rare plants in Calla Swamp, for I have observed that where one rare plant grows there will commonly be others." ”); June 24, 1857 ("Found [in Owl-Nest Swamp] the Calla palustris, out of bloom, and the naumbergia, now in prime, which was hardly begun on the 9th at Bateman Pond Swamp.”); August 29, 1857 ("I find the calla [in Owl-Nest Swamp] going to seed, but still the seed is green.”); May 29, 1858 ("At Calla Swamp. . .Calla apparently in two or three, or three or four days, the very earliest") The Owl-Nest Swamp , Bateman Pond Swamp and Calla Swamp are the same,  being the bog located south of Bateman’s Pond.

~ Calla (bog arum, marsh calla, wild calla, water-arum) is a genus of flowering plant containing the single species Calla palustris. Not to be confused with species from tropical Africa in a separate genus, often termed "calla lilies”.~ Wikipedia

One or two old yellow-throat nests quite small and of such material as this bird chooses.See note to June 7, 1857 (“A nest well made outside of leaves, then grass, lined with fine grass, very deep and narrow, with thick sides, with four small somewhat cream-colored eggs with small brown and some black spots chiefly toward larger end.”)

Looking closely, find that in many instances one branch, affected by a kind of disease, bears very handsome light-crimson leaves . . .See April 19 1852 ("How sweet is the perception of a new natural fact! suggesting what worlds remain to be unveiled. That phenomenon of the andromeda seen against the sun cheers me exceedingly. .... It is a natural magic. These little leaves are the stained windows in the cathedral of my world.”)

Having found this in one place, I now find it in another. Many an object is not seen, though it falls within the range of our visual ray, because it does not come within the range of our intellectual ray, i. e., we are not looking for it. See March 23, 1853 ("Man cannot afford to be a naturalist, to look at Nature directly, but only with the side of his eye. He must look through and beyond her. “); March 29, 1853 (“It is not till we are completely lost, or turned around, --for a man needs only to be turned round once with his eyes shut in this world to be lost, --do we appreciate the vastness and strangeness of Nature.”); June 14, 1853 (". . . you are in that favorable frame of mind described by De Quincey, open to great impressions, and you see those rare sights with the unconscious side of the eye, which you could not see by a direct gaze before.”) November 6, 1853 (“It is remarkable how little we attend to what is passing before us constantly, unless our genius directs our attention that way.”); December 11, 1855; ("I saw this familiar fact at a different angle. It is only necessary to behold thus the least fact or phenomenon, however familiar, from a point a hair’s breadth aside from our habitual path or routine, to be overcome, enchanted by its beauty and significance. To perceive freshly, with fresh senses, is to be inspired.”); September 2, 1856; ("It commonly chances that I make my most interesting botanical discoveries when I am in a thrilled and expectant mood,. . .”); September 9, 1858 (“A man sees only what concerns him.”); November 4, 1858 ("Objects are concealed from our view not so much because they are out of the course of our visual ray (continued) as because there is no intention of the mind and eye toward them. We do not realize how far and widely, or how near and narrowly, we are to look. The greater part of the phenomena of nature are for this reason concealed to us all our lives.. . . We cannot see any thing until we are possessed with the idea of it, and then we can hardly see anything else. In my botanical rambles I find that first the idea, or image, of a plant occupies my thoughts, though it may at first seem very foreign to this locality, and for some weeks or months I go thinking of it and expecting it unconsciously, and at length I surely see it, and it is henceforth an actual neighbor of mine. This is the history of my finding a score or more of rare plants which I could name.”); January 5, 1860 ("A man receives only what he is ready to receive. . . . He does not observe the phenomenon that cannot be linked with the rest which he has observed, however novel and remarkable it may be. A man tracks himself through life, apprehending only what he already half knows.”); Autumnal tints.("Objects are concealed from our view, not so much because they are out of the course of our visual ray as because we do not bring our minds and eyes to bear on them”)


Many an object
not seen as we find only
the world we look for.

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, We find only the world we look for. 

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 © 2009-2025


I turn to listen to a hermit thrush by the Fisher Pond
The partridge-berry in bloom, a  pretty fringed flower in pairs.
The black throated blue sings at the view.
Hemlock cones form near the end of new branchlets.
Jane finds a miniature acorn, a tiny Hickory nut 
and a hop hornbeam flower on the forest floor.

We are out for five hours in mid-afternoon the sun just slanting through the trees as we come home at 6:30. The rain of the past week has washed all the trails clear of leaves and we improve natures work along the way,  first cutting up climb across the neighbors land to the double chair it is hot and still, then down around the Fisher pond and back up over the ridge detouring to the porcupine tree then bushwhacking side-hill towards the view.

Jane puts a blanket down for the dogs but ends up on it  herself it's like a beach she says without the water or the sand. Clouds float in the sky it seems clear and dry straight overhead we stay a long time listening to the black throated blue at the view 

We go down the long way deep into the big house swamp now overgrown with nettles that Jane clears out it is full of water and wet all the way out to our land and beyond.  we cross the stream by the fort (east side) and there's as much water there as I have seen. Sunlight slanting through the trees making spots on the cliffs as we walk out the Boulder trail home

I turn to listen 
to a hermit thrush by the 
Kendall-Fisher Pond.

Clouds float in the sky 
a long time listening to 
the black throated blue 

We are out five hours 
the sun just slanting through the 
trees as we come home.

zphx 20170702

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