March 28, Smoky maple swamps now have a reddish tinge from their expanding buds.

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

In the ditch beyond Hubbard's Grove, Journal, March 28, 1852

In Conantum Brook a living frog, the first of the season. See March 28, 1858 ("Cleaning out the spring on the west side of Fair Haven Hill, I find a small frog, apparently a bullfrog, just come forth, which must have wintered in the mud there. ")

A very bright and distinct circle about the moon, and a second, larger circle, less distinct. See February 27, 1852 ("To-night a circle round the moon.”); October 30, 1857 ("There’s a very large and complete circle round the moon this evening, which part way round is a faint rainbow. It is a clear circular space, sharply and mathematically cut out of a thin mackerel sky.")

The geese have just gone over, making a great cackling and awaking people in their beds. See   March 28, 1858 (" After a cloudy morning, a warm and pleasant afternoon. I hear that a few geese were seen this morning."): March 28, 1859 ("A great flock passing over, quite on the other side of us and pretty high up. From time to time one of the company uttered a short note, that peculiarly metallic, clangorous sound. These were in a single undulating line. . .Undoubtedly the geese fly more numerously over rivers which, like ours, flow northeasterly, — are more at home with the water under them.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Signs of Spring, Geese Overhead

The smoky maple swamps have now got a reddish tinge from their expanding buds. See March 25, 1853("The red maple buds already redden the swamps and riverside.")

Why is the pollen of flowers commonly yellow?Journal, March 28, 1853

He stood half an hour to-day to hear the frogs croak. See March 27, 1853 ("Tried to see the faint-croaking frogs at J. P. Brown's Pond in the woods. . . .. 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.")

The hen-harrier with the slate-color over meadows. See March 27, 1855 ("See my frog hawk.  . . .It is the hen-harrier, i.e. marsh hawk, male. Slate-colored; beating the bush; black tips to wings and white rump."); March 29, 1853 ("I believe I saw the slate-colored marsh hawk to-day"). See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Marsh Hawk (Northern Harrier)

Got first proof of "Walden." Journal, March 28, 1854

A flock of hyemalis — thousands of them, notwithstanding the cold. See March 28, 1853 ("The woods ring with the cheerful jingle of the F. hyemalis. This is a very trig and compact little bird, and appears to be in good condition. The straight edge of slate on their breasts contrasts remarkably with the white from beneath ; the short, light-colored bill is also very conspicuous amid the dark slate ; and when they fly from you, the two white feathers in their tails are very distinct at a good distance. They are very lively, pursuing each other from bush to bush.").See also  note to  March 14, 1858 ("I see a Fringilla hyemalis, the first bird, perchance, — unless one hawk, – which is an evidence of spring, though they lingered with us the past unusual winter, at least till the 19th of January. They are now getting back earlier than our permanent summer residents. It flits past with a rattling or grating chip, showing its two white tail-feathers.”) See also  A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Dark-eyed Junco

Probably the sharp-shinned hawk. See May 4, 1855 (“Flapping briskly at intervals and then gliding straight ahead with rapidity, controlling itself with its tail. . . .Was it not the sharp-shinned, or Falco fuscus?  I think that what I have called the sparrow hawk falsely, and latterly pigeon hawk, is also the sharp-shinned .”) See also  A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau the sharp-shinned hawk.

Got first proof of "Walden." See August 9, 1854 (""Walden" published.")

The bluebird’s warble comes feeble and frozen to my ear, Journal, March 28, 1855.

Too cold to sing

and for me to hear,

the bluebird’s warble

comes feeble

and frozen to my ear.

March 28, 1855

 A yellow-spotted tortoise in a still ditch, which has a little ice also. See March 26, 1860 ("The yellow-spotted tortoise may be seen February 23, as in '57, or not till March 28, as in '55, — thirty-three days. "); February 23, 1857 (“See two yellow-spotted tortoises in the ditch south of Trillium Wood.”); March 10, 1853 ("I find a yellow-spotted tortoise (Emys guttata) in the brook.”); March 18, 1854 (" C. has already seen a yellow-spotted tortoise in a ditch.”); March 23, 1858 ("See something stirring amid the dead leaves in the water at the bottom of a ditch, in two or three places, and presently see the back of a yellow-spotted turtle."); March 27, 1853 ("I see but one tortoise (Emys guttata) in Nut Meadow Brook now; the weather is too raw and gusty."); March 28, 1852 (" A yellow-spotted tortoise by the causeway side in the meadow near Hubbard's Bridge. "); 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, on the russet flattened grass, . . .Do I ever see a yellow-spot turtle in the river? "); April 1, 1857 ("Up Assabet. See an Emys guttata sunning on the bank. I had forgotten whether I ever saw it in this river") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Yellow-Spotted Turtle

As for the singing of birds, — the few that have come to us, — it is too cold for them to sing and for me to hear. See March 28, 1853 ("Too cold for the birds to sing much.")

The bluebird’s warble comes feeble and frozen to my ear. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Bluebird in Early Spring.

And so, many a fisherman is not seen on the shore who the last spring did not fail here. Journal, March 28, 1857

Farmer thinks pickerel may have been frozen through half a day and yet come to. See March 20, 1857("When I began to tell him of my experiment on a frozen fish, he said that Pallas had shown that fishes were frozen and thawed again, but I affirmed the contrary, and then Agassiz agreed with me. "); January 4, 1856 ("[T]hinking of what I had heard about fishes coming to life again after being frozen, on being put into water, I thought I would try it. . . . ")

The mortality of suckers in the spring.  See March 27,1858 ("I saw on the 22d a sucker which apparently had been dead a week or two at least. Therefore they must begin to die late in the winter."); March 20, 1857 ("[the phenomenon I speak of, which last is confined to the very earliest spring or winter."); March 19, 1857 ("I observed yesterday a dead shiner by the riverside, and to-day the first sucker."); April 14, 1856 ("I see the first dead sucker"); April 10, 1855("Saw a tolerably fresh sucker floating."); May 23, 1854 ("How many springs shall I continue to see the common sucker (Catostomus Bostoniensis) floating dead on our river!")

At Lee's Cliff and this side, I see half a dozen buff-edged butterflies (Vanessa Antiopa) See March 28, 1858("I start up two Vanessa Antiopa, which flutter about over the dry leaves before, and are evidently attracted toward me, settling at last within a few feet. The same warm and placid day calls out men and butterflies."); see als0 March 21, 1853 ("On the warm, dry cliff, looking south over Beaver Pond, I am surprised to see a large butterfly, black with buff-edged wings, so tender a creature to be out so early, . . .Saw two more of those large black and buff butterflies. The same degree of heat brings them out everywhere.");April 2, 1856 ("A large buff-edged butterfly flutters by along the edge of the Cliff, — Vanessa antiopa. Though so little of the earth is bared, this frail creature has been warmed to life again."):; April 9, 1853 ("You see the buff-edged . . . in warm, sunny southern exposures on the edge of woods or sides of rocky hills and cliffs, above dry leaves and twigs, where the wood has been lately cut and there are many dry leaves and twigs about."); April 11, 1853: ("See my first Vanessa Antiopa."); April 17, 1860.(" Dr. Harris says that that early black-winged, buff-edged butterfly is the Vanessa Antiopa, and is introduced from Europe, and is sometimes found in this state alive in winter.") and A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Buff-edged Butterfly

Often I can give the truest and most interesting account of any adventure I have had after years have elapsed,. . ., and I may safely record all that I remember. See March 27, 1857 ("The men and things of to-day are wont to lie fairer and truer in to-morrow’s memory."). See also July 23, 1851 ("Put an interval between the impression and the expression, - wait till the seed germinates naturally.”); May 5, 1852 ("I succeed best when I recur to my experience not too late, but within a day or two; when there is some distance, but enough of freshness."); January 10, 1854 ("What you can recall of a walk on the second day will differ from what you remember on the first day, ... as any view changes to one who is journeying amid mountains when he has increased the distance."); April 20, 1854 ("I find some advantage in describing the experience of a day on the day following.”).

When one kind of life goes, another comes. The same warm and placid day calls out men and butterflies, Journal, March 28, 1858

I start up two Vanessa Antiopa, which flutter about over the dry leaves before, and are evidently attracted toward me, settling at last within a few feet. See March 28, 1857 ("The broad buff edge of the Vanessa Antiopa’s wings harmonizes with the russet ground it flutters over, and as it stands concealed in the winter, with its wings folded above its back, in a cleft in the rocks, the gray brown under side of its wings prevents its being distinguished from the rocks themselves.")  See also A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Buff-edged Butterfly

Coming home, I hear the croaking frogs in the pool on the south side of Hubbard’s Grove. It is sufficiently warm for them at last. See March 26, 1860 ("The wood frog may be heard March 15, as this year, or not till April 13, as in’56, — twenty-nine days."); March 15, 1860 ("Am surprised to hear, from the pool behind Lee's Cliff, the croaking of the wood frog. . . . How suddenly they awake! yesterday, as it were, asleep and dormant, to-day as lively as ever they are. The awakening of the leafy woodland pools.."); March 23, 1859 ("I hear a single croak from a wood frog. . . . Thus we sit on that rock, hear the first wood frog's croak"); March 24, 1859 (" Can you ever be sure that you have heard the very first wood frog in the township croak? "); 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 27, 1853 ("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."); March 30, 1858 ("Later, in a pool behind Lee's Cliff, I hear them, – the waking up of the leafy pools. . . . I do not remember that I ever hear this frog in the river or ponds. They seem to be an early frog, peculiar to pools and small ponds in the woods and fields.") See also A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the  Wood Frog (Rana sylvatica)

Stone Fruit, Journal, March 28, 1859

Loving my life as I should. See July 16, 1851 ("May I treat myself tenderly as I would treat the most innocent child whom I love; may I treat children and my friends as my newly discovered self. Let me forever go in search of myself; never for a moment think that I have found myself; be as a stranger to myself, never a familiar, seeking acquaintance still. May I be to myself as one is to me whom I love, a dear and cherished object. ...[May] I love and worship myself with a love which absorbs my love for the world."); August 15, 1851 ("May I love and revere myself above all the gods that men have ever invented. May I never let the vestal fire go out in my recesses.")

Stone fruit II,  Journal, March 28, 1859

It is a stone fruit,
mind-print of the oldest men.
Each one yields a thought.
March 28, 1859

Signs of Spring. Geese overhead. Journal, March 27 and 28, 1860

March 27, 2020

If you scan the horizon at this season of the year
you are very likely to see
the undulating line
of migrating geese against the sky.

March 28, 1859

 Louis Minor tells me he saw some geese about the 23d. See  March 23, 1856 ("I spend a considerable portion of my time observing the habits of the wild animals, my brute neighbors. By their various movements and migrations they fetch the year about to me. Very significant are the flight of geese"); March 24, 1859 ("C. sees geese go over again this afternoon. How commonly they are seen in still rainy weather like this! He says that when they had got far off they looked like a black ribbon almost perpendicular waving in the air"); March 27, 1857 (" Farmer says that he heard geese go over two or three nights ago."); March 28, 1858 ("After a cloudy morning, a warm and pleasant afternoon. I hear that a few geese were seen this morning. ") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Signs of Spring, Geese Overhead

March 28.

Smoky maple swamps

now have a reddish tinge from

their expanding buds.

March 28, 1852

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

March 27. The hazel is out at this cold leafless season greeting the spring.

 

Walden is two-thirds broken up. Journal, March 27, 1851

It will probably be quite open by to-morrow night. See note to March 14, 1860 (" I am surprised to find Walden open. No sooner has the ice of Walden melted than the wind begins to play in dark ripples over the surface of the virgin water. Ice dissolved is the next moment as perfect water as if melted a million years.") See also  April 18, 1856 ("Walden is open entirely to-day for the first time, owing to the rain of yesterday and evening. I have observed its breaking up of different years commencing in ’45, and the average date has been April 4th.") and  A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Ice-out In Thoreau’s records, March 14th was the earliest ice out; April 18th was the latest. From 1995 to 2015, ice out ranged from Jan. 29 (!) to April 12 with the median ice out date March 21.

The hazel is fully out, Journal , March 27, 1853

The hazel is fully out., though so minute that only an observer of nature, or one who looked for them, would notice it.See 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."); March 31, 1853 ("The catkins of the hazel are now trembling in the wind and much lengthened, showing yellowish and beginning to shed pollen.”); April 13, 1855 ("The common hazel just out. It is perhaps the prettiest flower of the shrubs that have opened. A little bunch of (in this case) half a dozen catkins, one and three quarters inches long, trembling in the wind, shedding golden pollen on the hand, and, close by, as many minute, but clear crystalline crimson stars at the end of a bare and seemingly dead twig. For two or three days in my walks, I had given the hazel catkins a fillip with my finger under their chins to see if they were in bloom, but in vain; but here, on the warm south side of a wood, I find one bunch fully out and completely relaxed. They know when to trust themselves to the weather.”) May 7, 1854 ("Flowers are self-registering indicators of fair weather. I remember how I waited for the hazel catkins to become relaxed and shed their pollen, but they delayed, till at last there came a pleasanter and warmer day and I took off my greatcoat while surveying in the woods, and then, when I went to dinner at noon, hazel catkins in full flower were dangling from the banks by the roadside and yellowed my clothes with their pollen. If man is thankful for the serene and warm day, much more are the flowers.”). See also A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Hazel

 My Aunt Maria . . . was heard through the partition shouting to my Aunt Jane, who is deaf, "Think of it! He stood half an hour to-day to hear the frogs croak, and he wouldn't read the life of Chalmers." See April 8, 1852( "To-day I hear the croak of frogs in small pond-holes in the woods, and see dimples on the surface, which I suppose that they make, for when I approach they are silent and the dimples are no longer seen."); May 9, 1860:  (“We sit by the shore of Goose Pond. … After sitting there a little while, I count noses of twenty frogs. It is a still, cloudy, thoughtful day.”); See also July 17, 1854: ("I watch them [white lillies] for an hour and a half.")

A hawk by meadow, Journal, March 27, 1854

Saw a hawk -- probably marsh hawk -- by meadow. See March 27, 1855 ("See my frog hawk. . . . It is the hen-harrier, i.e. marsh hawk, male. Slate-colored; beating the bush; black tips to wings and white rump"); March 17, 1860 (" Was not that a marsh hawk, a slate-colored one which I saw flying over Walden Wood with long, slender, curving wings, with a diving, zigzag flight? "); March 21, 1859 ("I see a female marsh hawk sailing and hunting over Potter's Swamp. I not only see the white rump but the very peculiar crescent-shaped curve of its wings."); Marsh 24, 1860 (". I see a male frog hawk beating a hedge, scarcely rising more than two feet from the ground for half a mile."); March 29, 1853 (" I believe I saw the slate-colored marsh hawk to-day. "); March 29, 1854 ("See two marsh hawks, white on rump.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Marsh Hawk (Northern Harrier)

The river is now open, Journal, March 27, 1856

The river is now open in reaches of twenty or thirty rods, where the ice has disappeared by melting. Elijah Wood does not remember that the river was ever frozen so long. See March 20, 1856 ("The river has just begun to open at Hubbard’s Bend. It has been closed there since January 7th, i. e. ten weeks and a half"); March 24, 1856 ("Go everywhere on the North Branch — it is all solid Yet last year I paddled my boat to Fair Haven Pond on the 19th of March! "); April 2, 1856.(" I returned down the middle of the river to near the Hubbard Bridge without seeing any opening. "); April 7, 1856 ("Launched my boat, through three rods of ice on the riverside, . . . . Surprised to find the river not broken up just above [Hubbard] bridge and as far as we can see, probably through Fair Haven Pond. Probably in some places you can cross the river still on the ice. . "); April 8, 1856 (" the pond and river still frozen over for the most part as far down as Cardinal Shore. "). See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, A Book of the Seasons: Ice out

I do not know at first what it is that charms me, Journal, March 27, 1857

I would fain make two reports in my Journal,. . . The men and things of to-day are wont to lie fairer and truer in to-morrow’s memory. See notes to March 24, 1857 ("If you are describing any occurrence, or a man, make two or more distinct reports at different times.");  and March 28, 1857 ("Often I can give the truest and most interesting account of any adventure I have had after years have elapsed, for then I am not confused, only the most significant facts surviving in my memory. Indeed, all that continues to interest me after such a lapse of time is sure to be pertinent, and I may safely record all that I remember. ")

Having crawled over the hill through the woods on our stomachs we watch various water-fowl for an hour, Journal, March 27,1858

J J Audubon Fuligula albeola Buffle-headed Duck:"
The bufflehead, being known in different districts by the names of
Spirit Duck, Butter-box, Marrionette, Dipper, and Die-dipper, "

Sheldrakes. See March 22, 1858 ("I see two of these very far off on a bright-blue bay where the waves are running high. They are two intensely white specks, which yet you might mistake for the foaming crest of waves. Now one disappears, but soon is seen again, and then its companion is lost in like manner, having dived."); March 5, 1857 ("I scare up six male sheldrakes, with their black heads, in the Assabet,—the first ducks I have seen"); March 16, 1855 ("Scare up two large ducks . . . I think it the goosander or sheldrake."); March 16, 1854 ("I see ducks afar, sailing on the meadow, leaving a long furrow in the water behind them.”) See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Sheldrake (Merganser, Goosander)

Can this be the Fuligula albeola, and have I commonly seen only the female? Or is it a grebe? See January 15, 1858 ("At Natural History Rooms, Boston. Looked at the little grebe. Its feet are not webbed with lobes on the side like the coot, and it is quite white beneath."); December 26, 1857 ("The little dipper must, therefore, be different from a coot. Is it not a grebe?); April 19, 1855 ("A little duck, asleep with its head in its back, exactly in the middle of the pond. It has a moderate-sized black head and neck, a white breast, and seems dark-brown above, with a white spot on the side of the head, not reaching to the out side, from base of mandibles, and another, perhaps, on the end of the wing, with some black there. . . .I think it is the smallest duck I ever saw. Floating buoyantly asleep on the middle of Walden Pond. Is it not a female of the buffle-headed or spirit duck?"); December 26, 1853 ("Saw in it a small diver, probably a grebe or dobchick, dipper, or what-not, with the markings, as far as I saw, of the crested grebe, but smaller. It had a black head, a white ring about its neck, a white breast, black back, and apparently no tail.”); September 27, 1860 (" I see a little dipper in the middle of the river.. . .It has a dark bill and considerable white on the sides of the head or neck, with black between it, no tufts, and no observable white on back or tail.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Little Dipper

They must begin to die late in the winter. See note to March 28, 1857 ("Every spring there are many dead suckers floating belly upward on the meadows. This phenomenon of dead suckers is as constant as the phenomenon of living ones; nay, as a phenomenon it is far more apparent.")

Signs of Spring. Geese overhead, Journal, March 27 and 28, 1860

March 27, 2020

If you scan the horizon at this season of the year
you are very likely to see
the undulating line
of migrating geese against the sky.

March 28, 1859

Louis Minor tells me he saw some geese about the 23d. See  March 23, 1856 ("I spend a considerable portion of my time observing the habits of the wild animals, my brute neighbors. By their various movements and migrations they fetch the year about to me. Very significant are the flight of geese"); March 24, 1859 ("C. sees geese go over again this afternoon. How commonly they are seen in still rainy weather like this! He says that when they had got far off they looked like a black ribbon almost perpendicular waving in the air"); March 27, 1857 (" Farmer says that he heard geese go over two or three nights ago."); March 28, 1858 ("After a cloudy morning, a warm and pleasant afternoon. I hear that a few geese were seen this morning. ") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Signs of Spring, Geese Overhead

March 27.

The hazel is out

at this cold leafless season

greeting the spring.

March 27, 1853

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