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
Ice goes to the sea.
The fish hawk sails overhead
looking for his prey.
April 14, 2017
An overcast and moist day, but truly April—no sun all day—like such as began methinks on Fast Day, or the 5th. You cannot foretell how it will turn out. April 14, 1855
Monday. A raw, overcast morning . . .Wind southwest and pretty strong; sky overcast; weather cool. April 14, 1856
Tuesday. Rains all day. April 14, 1857
Rains still, with one or two flashes of lightning, but soon over April 14, 1856
Rains still, with one or two flashes of lightning, but soon over April 14, 1856
The seventh rain storm (as I reckon), beginning with the 18th of March, which resulted from the wind becoming easterly on the previous day April 14, 1859
A strong westerly wind in forenoon, shaking the house April 14, 1860
The different parts of Fair Haven Pond -- the pond, the meadow beyond the button-bush and willow curve, the island, and the meadow between the island and mainland with its own defining lines -- are all parted off like the parts of a mirror. A fish hawk is calmly sailing over all, looking for his prey. April 14, 1852
The streams break up; the ice goes to the sea. Then sails the fish hawk overhead, looking for his prey. April 14, 1852
See from my window a fish hawk flying high west of the house, cutting off the bend between Willow Bay and the meadow, in front of the house, between one vernal lake and another. He suddenly wheels and, straightening out his long narrow wings, makes one circle high above the last meadow, as if he had caught a glimpse of a fish beneath, and then continues his course down the river. . . .Again I see the fish hawk, near the old place. He alights on the ground where there is a ridge covered with bushes, surrounded by water, but I scare him again, and he finally goes off northeast, flying high. He had apparently-stayed about that place all day fishing. April 14, 1856
I still find small turtle’s eggs on the surface entire, while looking for arrowheads by the Island. April 14, 1856
The waves are breaking with violence on this shore, as on a sea-beach, and here is the first painted tortoise just east up by them and lying on his back amid the stones, in the most favorable position to display his bright-vermilion marks, as the waves still break over him. He makes no effort to turn himself back, probably being weary contending with the waves. April 14, 1856
A little further is another, also at the mercy of the waves, which greatly interfere with its staid and measured ways, its head helplessly wagging with every billow. Their scales are very clean and bright now. The only yellow I notice is about the head and upper part of the tail. The scales of the back are separated or bordered with a narrow greenish-yellow edging. April 14, 1856
The musk tortoise stirring on the bottom. April 14, 1855
I see the motions of a muskrat on the calm sunny surface a great way off. April 14, 1852
You see nowadays on every side, on the meadow bottom, the miserable carcasses of the musquash stripped of their pelts. I saw one plunge from beneath the monument. April 14, 1856
I see much sweet flag six or eight inches long, floating, it having been cut up apparently by musquash. (The 17th I see much of the sparganium cut up close to the bottom along a musquash-path at the bottom of a meadow where there was one foot of water.) April 14, 1858
See one striped squirrel chasing another round and round the Island, with a faint squeak from time to time and a rustling of the dry leaves. They run quite near to the water. April 14, 1856
The river is a little higher on account of rain. April 14, 1858
The river has been steadily rising since the first of April, though you would not think there had been rain enough to cause it April 14, 1855
The river is going down rapidly, yet the Hunt’s Bridge causeway is but just bare. April 14, 1856
There is a general tinge of green now discernible through the russet on the bared meadows and the hills, the green blades just peeping forth amid the withered ones. April 14, 1854
Most of the stellaria has been winter-killed, but I find a few flowers on a protected and still green sprig, probably not blossomed long. April 14, 1855
The south side of Ponkawtasset looks much greener and more forward than any part of the town I have noticed. It is almost like another season there. They are already plowing there. April 14, 1856
The Populus tremuloides by the Island shed pollen — a very few catkins — yesterday at least; for some anthers are effete and black this morning, though it is hardly curved down yet an is but an inch and a half long at most. April 14, 1855
White maples are now generally in bloom. April 14, 1855
White maples are now generally in bloom. April 14, 1855
I scare up two black ducks which make one circle around me, reconnoitring and rising higher and higher, then go down the river. Is it they that so commonly practice this manoeuvre? April 14, 1856
I see half a dozen crow blackbirds uttering their coarse rasping char char, like great rusty springs, on the top of an elm by the riverside; and often at each char they open their great tails. They also attain to a clear I whistle with some effort, but seem to have some difficulty in their throats yet. April 14, 1855
I see an elm-top at the Battle-Ground covered with blackbirds uttering their squeaks and split whistles, as if they had not got their voices yet, and a coarse, rasping tchuck or char, not in this case from a crow blackbird. April 14, 1856
Hear the flicker’s cackle on the old aspen, and his tapping sounds afar over the water. Their tapping resounds thus far, with this peculiar ring and distinctness, because it is a hollow tree they select to play on, as a drum or tambour. It is a hollow sound which rings distinct to a great distance, especially over water. April 14, 1856
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
The slate-colored snowbird's (for they are still about) is a somewhat shrill jingle like the sound of ramrods when the order has been given to a regiment to “return ramrods” and they obey stragglingly. April 14, 1852
The sun, reflected thus from snow in April, perhaps especially in the forenoon, possesses a tanning power. April 14, 1852
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. April 14, 1852
It being completely overcast, having rained a little, the robins, etc., sing at 4.30 as at sundown usually. April 14, 1855
The waters, too, are smooth and full of reflections. April 14, 1855
So perfectly calm and beautiful, and yet no man looking at it this morning but myself. April 14, 1852
April 14, 2017
*****
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, White Maple Buds and Flowers
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Aspens
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Painted Turtle (Emys picta)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Striped Squirrel
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Musquash
A Book of Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Osprey (Fish Hawk)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Robins in Spring
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Lark in Early Spring
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Spring sounds. Woodpeckers Tapping
April 14, 2017
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.
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, April 14.
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
