The grass is flaming up through the shallow water on the meadows.

June 2. 

Sterile buttonwood, not yet generally, but some apparently several days at least. 

It was a portion of the natural surface of the earth itself which jutted out and became my roof the other day. How fit that Nature should thus shelter her own children! The first drops were dimpling the pond even as the fishes had done. 

June 2, 2017

The grass is flaming up through the shallow water on the meadows. 

It is very warm till 3 p. m., and then a washing breeze arises, and before night probably distant thunder-showers have cooled the air, for after dark we see the flashes called heat lightning in the north, and hear the distant thunder. 

Geraniums bring thunder. 

That bobolink's song affected me as if one were endeavoring to keep down globes of melody within a vase full of liquid, but some bubbled up irrepressible, — kept thrusting them down with a stick, but they slipped and came up one side. 

A young sparrow already flies. 

Drove this afternoon to Painted-Cup Meadow. 

A tanager yesterday.

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

It was a portion of the natural surface of the earth itself which jutted out and became my roof the other day. See May 29, 1857 (“The drops fall thicker, and I seek a shelter under the Cliffs. ”); May 30, 1857 (“When first I had sheltered myself under the rock, I began at once to look out on the pond with new eyes,”)

Heat lightning in the north, and hear the distant thunder. See June 16, 1852 (“Heat lightning in the horizon. A sultry night. A flute from some villager.”)

That bobolink's song affected me. See June 1, 1857 (“I hear the note of a bobolink concealed in the top of an apple tree behind me. . . . Methinks they are the most liquidly sweet and melodious sounds I ever heard.”); May 16, 1854 ("The earth is all fragrant as one flower. And bobolinks tinkle in the air. Nature now is perfectly genial to man.”) and note to May 12, 1856 (“We hear the first bobolink. . . How much life the note of the bobolink imparts to the meadow! ”) See also A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Bobolink

June 2. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, June 2

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

The season of waving boughs

June 9.

June 9, 2013

For a week past we have had washing days. The grass waving, and trees having leaved out, their boughs wave and feel the effect of the breeze. Thus new life and motion is imparted to the trees. The season of waving boughs; and the lighter under side of the new leaves are exposed. This is the first half of June. 

Methinks this is a traveller's month.  Already the grass is blossomed and some even gone to seed, and it is mixed with reddish ferns and other plants.  The deciduous trees have filled up the intervals between the evergreens, and the woods are bosky now. The locust in bloom. The waving, undulating rye. 

The general leafiness, shadiness, and waving of grass and boughs in the breeze characterize the season.  The weather is very clear, and the sky bright. The river shines like silver. 

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, June 9, 1852

For a week past we have had washing days. The grass waving, and trees having leaved out, their boughs wave and feel the effect of the breeze. Thus new life and motion is imparted to the trees. The season of waving boughs; and the lighter under sides of the new leaves are exposed. This is the first half of June. Already the grass is not so fresh and liquid-velvety a green, having much of it blossom[ed] and some even gone to seed, and it is mixed with reddish ferns and other plants, but the general leafiness, shadiness, and wav ing of grass and boughs in the breeze characterize the season. The wind is not quite agreeable, because it prevents your hearing the birds sing. Meanwhile the crickets are strengthening their quire. The weather is very clear, and the sky bright. The river shines like silver. Methinks this is a traveller's month. The locust in bloom. The waving, undulating rye. The deciduous trees have filled up the intervals between the ever greens, and the woods are bosky now.

The deciduous trees have filled up the intervals between the evergreens, and the woods are bosky now. The general leafiness, shadiness, and waving of grass and boughs in the breeze characterize the season. The river shines like silver. See June 6, 1855 ("The dark eye and shade of June”); June 8, 1860 “In early June, methinks, as now, we have clearer days, less haze, more or less breeze, — especially after rain, — and more sparkling water than before. . . .As there is more shade in the woods, so there is more shade in the sky, i. e. dark or heavy clouds contrasted with the bright sky. ”); June 9. 1856 ("Now I notice where an elm is in the shadow of a cloud,—the black elm-tops and shadows of June. It is a dark eyelash which suggests a flashing eye beneath. It suggests houses that lie under the shade, the repose and siesta of summer noons, the thunder-cloud, bathing, and all that belongs to summer. ") June 11, 1856 ("I think that this peculiar darkness of the shade, or of the foliage as seen between you and the sky, is not accounted for merely by saying that we have not yet got accustomed to clothed trees, but the leaves are rapidly acquiring a darker green, are more and more opaque, and, besides, the sky is lit with the intensest light. It reminds me of the thunder-cloud and the dark eyelash of summer."); June 23, 1852 ("It is an agreeably cool and clear and breezy day, when all things appear as if washed bright and shine, and, at this season especially, the sound of the wind rustling the leaves is like the rippling of a stream, and you see the light-colored under side of the still fresh foliage, and a sheeny light is reflected from the bent grass in the meadows.. . . The river too has a fine, cool, silvery sparkle or sheen on it. You can see far into the horizon.”); Compare May 26, 1854 (At sight of this deep and dense field all vibrating with motion and light, winter recedes many degrees in my memory. . . . The season of grass, now everywhere green and luxuriant.”); May 27, 1855 ("The fields now begin to wear the aspect of June, their grass just beginning to wave;. . . foliage thickening and casting darker shadows over the meadows,. . . deciduous trees rapidly investing evergreens .”; May 28, 1858 (“These various shades of grass remind me of June.”); May 30, 1852 (Now is the summer come. . . . A day for shadows, even of moving clouds, over fields in which the grass is beginning to wave.”)

June 9. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, June 9

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau

"A book, each page written in its own season,

out-of-doors, in its own locality.”

~edited, assembled and rewritten by zphx © 2009-2021

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