Showing posts with label may 16. Show all posts
Showing posts with label may 16. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 16, 2023

A Book of the Seasons: the Bellworts

 

I would make a chart of our life,
know why just this circle of creatures completes the world.
Observe all kinds of coincidences,
as what kinds of birds come with what flowers.
Henry Thoreau

The single modest-colored flower gracefully drooping,
neat, with a fugacious, richly spiced fragrance, facing the ground . . .
a beautiful sight, a pleasing discovery,  the first of the season. . .
When you turn up the drooping flower,
its petals make a perfect geometrical figure, a six-pointed star.

Sessile-leaved bellwort
  Avesong, April 24, 2023

May 3. P. M. – Ride to Flint's Pond to look for Uvularia perfoliata [see May 30, 1857 ] . . . See no signs of the Uvularia perfoliata yet; apparently will not bloom within ten days . . .  In the woods near the Uvularia perfoliata, see and hear a new bird to me . . . At first it was silent, and I took it for the common pewee, but . . . It surprised me by singing in a novel and powerful and rich strain. Yet it may be the white-eyed [solitary] vireo (which I do not know), if it comes so early. May 3, 1858

May 6Uvularia sessilifolia just begun. May 6, 1853

May 11.  Uvularia perfoliata out in rain; say, then, the 9th. Just after plucking it I perceived what I call the meadow fragrance, though in the woods; but I afterward found that this flower was peculiarly fragrant, and its fragrance like that, so it was probably this which I had perceived. S. was reminded of the lily-of-the-valley by it.  May 11, 1859

May 13.  Uvularias, amid the dry tree-tops near the azaleas. May 13, 1854

May 13P. M. – To Island Uvularia sessilifolia is well out in Island woods, opposite Bath Rock; how long? May 13, 1858

May 13 At Holden Swamp, hear plenty of parti-colored warblers (tweezer-birds) and redstarts. Uvularia sessilifolia abundant, how long?  May 13, 1860

May 14. The Uvularia sessilifolio, a drooping flower with tender stems and leaves; the latter curled so as to show their under sides hanging about the stems, as if shrinking from the cold .May 14, 1852

May 16.  The sessile-leaved bellwort, with three or four delicate pale-green leaves with reflexed edges, on a tender-looking stalk, the single modest-colored flower gracefully drooping, neat, with a fugacious, richly spiced fragrance, facing the ground, the dry leaves, as if unworthy to face the heavens. It is a beautiful sight, a pleasing discovery,  the first of the season, -- growing in a little straggling company, in damp woods or swamps. When you turn up the drooping flower, its petals make a perfect geometrical figure, a six-pointed star. May 16, 1852

May 16.  P. M. – To Uvularia perfoliata at Flint's Pond, which did not show itself at all on the 3d, is now conspicuous, and one is open but will not shed pollen before to-morrow. It has shot up about ten inches in one case and bloomed within thirteen days!! May 16, 1858

May 30.   By the path near the northeast shore of Flint's Pond, just before reaching the wall by the brook, I see what I take to be an uncommonly large Uvularia sessilifolia flower, but, looking again, am surprised to find it the Uvularia perfoliata, which I have not found hereabouts before. It is a taller and much more erect plant than the other, with a larger flower, methinks. It is considerably past its prime and probably began with the other.  May 30, 1857 

June 2. [climbing Monadnock] Uvularia grandiflora, not long begun to bloom. June 2, 1858

June 3.  Saw the Uvularia perfoliata, perfoliate bellwort, in Worcester near the hill; an abundance of mountain laurel on the hills, now budded to blossom and the fresh lighter growth contrasting with the dark green; an abundance of very large checkerberries, or partridge berries, as Bigelow calls them, on Hasnebumskit. June 3, 1851

June 14Walk to Hermitage Woods with Sophia and aunts.  Uvularia perfoliata very common there; now out of bloom.  June 14, 1856

July 25. Large-flowered bellwort (Uvularia grandiflora), in fruit. [The Maine Woods] July 25, 1857

August 22. Edward Hoar . . . says he found the Uvularia perfoliata on the Stow road, he thinks within Concord bounds. August 22, 1857

August 26.  The Uvularia sessilifolia is for the most part turned yellow, with large green fruit, or even withered and brown. August 26, 1859

August 30.  The plants now decayed and decaying and withering are those early ones which grow in wet or shady places, as hellebore, skunk-cabbage, the two (and perhaps three) smilacinas, uvularias, polygonatum, medeola, Senecio aureus (except radical leaves), and many brakes and sarsaparillas. August 30, 1859

September 6. The sessile-leaved bellwort is yellow, green, and brown, all together or separately. September 6, 1854

September 22. Sophia has in her herbarium and has found in Concord these which I have not seen this summer:  . . . Uvularia perfoliata, Bigelow says May. September 22, 1852

October 22. It is just about nine miles, as I walk, from here around Flint’s Pond . . . I saw some hickory sprouts above the perfoliate bellwort near the pond. October 22, 1857

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Bellworts
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

* Sessile-leaved bellwort (Uvularia sessilifolia )is the most widespread and common bellwort in New England, inhabiting deciduous and mixed evergreen deciduous forests, woodlands and edges throughout. The sessile (without a stalk but not perfoliate) leaves distinguish this species from large-flowered bellwort (Uvularia grandiflora) and perfoliate bellwort (Uvularia perfoliata).  

*Large-flowered bellwort is distributed in rich, moist, deciduous forests in western New England. 

*Perfoliate bellwort becomes increasingly rare in northern New England, and is absent in Maine. The name refers to the way the stem seems to pierce through the leaf blade. Large-flowered bellwort also has perfoliate leaves.~ GoBotany

(Thoreau’s only references to Concord occurrence of the perfoliate bellwort  are second-hand. See August 22, 1857,  and  September 22, 1852 ) ~ Ray Angelo, Vascular Flora of Concord, Massachusetts)

Sunday, May 16, 2021

Myself, a pine tree, and the moon.

 



May 16, 2019


Heard the whip- poor-will this evening. 

A splendid full moon to - night. 

Walked from 6. 30 to 10 P M. 

Lay on a rock near a meadow, which had absorbed and retained much heat, so that I could warm my back on it, it being a cold night. 

I found that the side of the sand-hill was cold on the surface, but warm two or three inches beneath. 

If there is a more splendid moonlight than usual, only the belated traveller observes it. 

When I am outside, on the outskirts of the town, enjoying the still majesty of the moon, I am wont to think that all men are aware of this miracle, that they too are silently worshipping this manifestation of divinity elsewhere. 

But when I go into the house I am undeceived; they are absorbed in checkers or chess or novel, though they may have been advertised of the brightness through the shutters. 

In the moonlight night what intervals are created! 

The rising moon is related to the near pine tree which rises above the forest, and we get a juster notion of distance. 

The moon is only somewhat further off and on one side. 

There may be only three objects, — myself, a pine tree, and the moon, nearly equidistant. 

Talk of demonstrating the rotation of the earth on its axis, — see the moon rise, or the sun! 

The moonlight reveals the beauty of trees. 

By day it is so light and in this climate so cold commonly, that we do not perceive their shade. 

We do not know when we are beneath them. 

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, May 16, 1851

Saturday, May 16, 2020

This the first really warm day and thunder-shower.




E. Hoar saw the henbit (Lamium amplexi caule) a week ago from Mr. Pritchard’s garden. 

Celandine is out a day or more, and rhodora, trillium, and yellow violets yesterday at least. 

Horse-chestnut to-day. 

What handsome long yellow, threadlike peduncles to the staminate flowers of the sugar maple! three inches long, tassel-like, appearing with the leaves. 

A man is about town with a wagon-load of the Rhododendron maximum this evening from Gardiner, Maine. It is well budded; buds nearly an inch long; long, narrow, thick leaves, six inches long or more. He says it means the “rose of Dendrum" and will grow from a mere slip cut off and stuck in any soil, — only water it three times a day!!! No doubt of it. 

It has been oppressively warm to-day, the first really warm, sultry-like weather, so that we were prepared for a thunder-storm at evening. 

At 5 P. M., dark, heavy, wet-looking clouds are seen in the northern horizon, perhaps over the Merrimack Valley, and we say it is going down the river and we shall not get a drop. The main body goes by, there is a shower in the north, and the western sky is suffused with yellow where its thin skirts are withdrawing. 

People stand at their doors in the warm evening, listening to the muttering of distant thunder and watching the forked lightning, now descending to the earth, now ascending to the clouds. This the first really warm day and thunder-shower. 

Had thunder-shower while I was in Haverhill in April.

Nature’appears to have passed a crisis. All slimy reptile life is wide awake. The sprayey dream of the toad has a new sound; from the meadow the hylodes are heard more distinctly; and the tree-toad chirrups often from the elms (?). The sultry warmth and moister air has called him into life. 

We smell the fresher and cooler air from where the storm has passed. 

And now that it has grown dark, the skirts of the cloud seem to promise us a shower. It lightens incessantly right in the west; the right wing of the rear guard of the storm is steadily advancing and firing, and every flash shows the outlines of the cloud. 

We look out into the dark, and ever and anon comes a sudden illumination blinding our eyes, like a vast glow-worm, succeeded ere long by the roll of thunder. 

The first pattering of drops is heard; all west windows are hastily shut. The weak-eyed sit with their backs to windows and close the blinds. 

But we are disappointed, after all, and each flash reveals a narrow strip of evening red through the thin drops below the advancing cloud.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, May 16, 1853

A man is about town with a wagon-load of the Rhododendron maximum. See June 4, 1853 ("I noticed next day one or more in every front yard on each side of the street, and the inhabitants out watering them. Said to be the most splendid native flower in Massachusetts . . . I hear to-day that one in town has blossomed.")

Yellow violets yesterday at least.  See May 11, 1860 ("Yellow violet, almost; say to-morrow."); May 18, 1856 ("E. Emerson finds half a dozen yellow violets."); May 25, 1852 ("The large yellow woods violet (V. pubescens) by this brook now out"); 

It is going down the river and we shall not get a drop. See June 15, 1860 (“A thunder-shower in the north goes down the Merrimack.”)

This the first really warm day and thunder-shower.   See  April 13, 1858 ("See through the dark rain the first flash of lightning, in the west horizon, doubting if it was not a flash of my eye at first, but after a very long interval I hear the low rumbling of the first thunder, and now the summer is baptized and inaugurated in due form."); May 9, 1859 ("The first thunder this afternoon."); May 10, 1857 ("Before night a sudden shower with some thunder and lightning; the first.”); May 11, 1854 (“ I feel the air cooled and hear the muttering of distant thunder in the northwest and see a dark cloud in that direction indistinctly through the wood. That distant thunder-shower very much cools our atmosphere. I make haste through the woods homeward ...It is surprising what an electrifying effect this shower appears to have had. It is like the christening of the summer.”); May 12, 1858 (“I see now, as I go forth on the river, the first summer shower coming up in the northwest, a dark and well defined cloud with rain falling sheaf-like from it, . . .The thunder-cloud is like the ovary of a perfect flower. . . .. It is not commonly till thus late in the season that the fertile are seen. In the thunder-cloud, so distinct and condensed, there is a positive energy, and I notice the first as the bursting of the pollen-cells in the flower of the sky.”); May 20, 1856 ("Was awaked and put into sounder sleep than ever early this morning by the distant crashing of thunder, and now ... I hear it in mid-afternoon, muttering, crashing in the muggy air in mid-heaven,... like the tumbling down of piles of boards, and get a few sprinkles in the sun. Nature has found her hoarse summer voice again.."); May 29, 1857 ("a first regular summer thunder-shower, preceded by a rush of wind,")

Thursday, May 16, 2019

Hear a tanager to-day, and one was seen yesterday.

May 16 

Monday. 

Surveying Damon's farm and factory lot. 

Our corydalis was out the 13th. 

Hear a tanager to-day, and one was seen yesterday. 

Sand cherry out. 

Ranunculus abortivus well out (when?), southwest angle of Damon's farm. 

Hear a bobolink and kingbird, and find sparrows' nests on the ground. 

At eve the first spark of a nighthawk.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, May 16, 1859

Our corydalis was out the 13th. See May 3, 1857 ("Corydalis glauca is five inches high. "); May 20, 1857 ("I find that the corydalis sprig which I brought home five days ago keeps fresh and blossoms remarkably well in water, — its delicate bright flesh-colored or pink flowers and glaucous leaves!");; July 11, 1857 ("There is an abundance of corydalis on the top of the Cliffs, but most of it is generally out of bloom"); May 29, 1858 ("Cannot find any large corydalis plants where it has been very plenty.")

Hear a tanager to-day, and one was seen yesterday.  See May 13, 1853 (“Methinks I hear and see the tanager now.”); May 15, 1856 ("As I sat by the Riordan crossing, thought it was the tanager I heard?"); May 18, 1851("The scarlet tanagers are come.”). May 19, 1856 (“The tanager is now heard plainly and frequently.”) See also A Book of Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Scarlet Tanager

Sand cherry out. See May 4, 1855 ("Sand cherry yesterday leafs"); May 23, 1857 ("Sand cherry at Lupine Bank, possibly a day. “)

Hear a bobolink and kingbird.  See May 16, 1854 ("The earth is all fragrant as one flower. And bobolinks tinkle in the air.”) See also  May 10, 1853 ("New days, then, have come. . . now made perfect by the twittering of the kingbird and the whistle of the oriole amid the elms,, - if not already the bobolink.")

At eve the first spark of a nighthawk. See May 17, 1853 ("I hear the first unquestionable nighthawk squeak and see him circling far off high above the earth. It is now about 5 o'clock p. m");; May 23, 1857 ("and at evening I hear the spark of a nighthawk.");  May 25, 1852 ("First nighthawks squeak and boom.");   See also A Book of Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau,the Nighthawk

Wednesday, May 16, 2018

A very large black snake I thought was preparing to strike at me

May 16

A. M. – Up Assabet. 

Aralia nudicaulis at Island. The leaf-stalks are often eaten off, probably by some quadruped. 

The flower-buds of the Cornus florida are five eighths of an inch in diameter. 

The Salix lucida will hardly bloom within two days. The S. Torreyana catkins are so reddish that at a little distance it looks some what like the common black cherry now leafing. 

A hummingbird yesterday came into the next house and was caught. Flew about our parlor to-day and tasted Sophia's flowers. In some lights you saw none of the colors of its throat. In others, in the shade the throat was a clear bright scarlet, but in the sun it glowed with splendid metallic, fiery reflections about the neck and throat. 

It uttered from time to time, as it flew, a faint squeaking chirp or chirrup. The hum sounded more hollow when it approached a flower. Its wings fanned the air so forcibly that you-felt the cool wind they raised a foot off, and nearer it was very remarkable. Does not this very motion of the wings keep a bird cool in hot weather? 

The only indigenous willow I noticed yesterday on the Shawsheen — a mile below Fitch's mill — was the small sericea, such as by Assabet white maple. 

What was that loud but distant note of a bird, apparently in the low land, somewhat like the guinea-hen note, also reminding me a little of the plover about Truro light, but apparently a hawk? 

Got quite a view down the valley of the Shawsheen below the junction of Vine Brook, northeast, from a hill in the extreme northeast of Bedford.

P. M. – To Uvularia perfoliata at Flint's Pond. 

See again the warbler of yesterday. All bright yellow beneath and apparently bluish-slate above, but I do not see it well. Its note, with little variation, is like twit twit, twit twit, twitter twitter twe. It must be the parti-colored warbler.

Sat down in the sun in the path through Wright's wood-lot above Goose Pond, but soon, hearing a slight rustling, I looked round and saw a very large black snake about five feet long on the dry leaves, about a rod off. 

When I moved, it vibrated its tail very rapidly and smartly, which made quite a loud rustling or rattling sound, reminding me of the rattlesnake, as if many snakes obeyed the same instinct as the rattle snake when they vibrate their tails. Once I thought I heard a low hiss. 

It was on the edge of a young wood of oaks and a few white pines from ten to eighteen feet high, the oaks as yet bare of leaves. 

As I moved toward the snake, I thought it would take refuge in some hole, but it appeared that it was out on a scout and did not know of any place of refuge near. Suddenly, as it moved along, it erected itself half its length, and when I thought it was preparing to strike at me, to my surprise it glided up a slender oak sapling about an inch in diameter at the ground and ten feet high. 

It ascended this easily and quickly, at first, I think, slanting its body over the lowest twig of the next tree. There were seven little branches for nine feet, averaging about the size of a pipe-stem. It moved up in a somewhat zig zag manner, availing itself of the branches, yet also in part spirally about the main stem. It finds a rest (or hold if necessary) for its neck or forward part of its body, moving crosswise the small twigs, then draws up the rest of its body. From the top of this little oak it passed into the top of a white pine of the same height an inch and a half in diameter at the ground and two feet off; from this into another oak, fifteen feet high and three feet from the pine; from this to another oak, three feet from the last and about the same height; from this to a large oak about four feet off and three or four inches in diameter, in which it was about fourteen feet from the ground; thence through two more oaks, a little lower, at intervals of four feet, and so into a white pine; and at last into a smaller white pine and thence to the ground. 

The distance in a straight line from where it left the ground to where it descended was about twenty-five feet, and the greatest height it reached, about fourteen feet. It moved quite deliberately for the most part, choosing its course from tree to tree with great skill, and resting from time to time while it watched me, only my approach compelling it to move again. 

It surprised me very much to see it cross from tree to tree exactly like a squirrel, where there appeared little or no support for such a body. It would glide down the proper twig, its body resting at intervals of a foot or two, on the smaller side twigs, perchance, and then would easily cross an interval of two feet, sometimes in an ascending, sometimes a descending, direction. If the latter, its weight at last bent the first twig down nearer to the opposite one. It would extend its neck very much, as I could see by the increased width of the scales exposed, till its neck rested across the opposite twig, hold on all the while tightly to some part of the last twig by the very tip of its tail, which was curled round it just like a monkey's. 

I have hardly seen a squirrel rest on such slight twigs as it would rest on in mid-air, only two or three not bigger than a pipe-stem, while its body stretched clear a foot at least between two trees. It was not at all like creeping over a coarse basket work, but suggested long practice and skill, like the rope dancer's. There were no limbs for it to use comparable for size with its own body, and you hardly noticed the few slight twigs it rested on, as it glided through the air. 

When its neck rested on the opposite twig, it was, as it were, glued to it. It helped itself over or up them as surely as if it grasped with a hand. There were, no doubt, rigid kinks in its body when they were needed for support. It is a sort of endless hook, and, by its ability to bend its body in every direction, it finds some support on every side. Perhaps the edges of its scales give it a hold also. 

It is evident that it can take the young birds out of a sapling of any height, and no twigs are so small and pliant as to prevent it. Pendulous sprays would be the most difficult for it, where the twigs are more nearly parallel with the main one, as well as nearly vertical, but even then it might hold on by its tail while its head hung below. I have no doubt that this snake could have reached many of the oriole-nests which I have seen. 

I noticed that in its anger its rigid neck was very much flattened or compressed vertically. At length it coiled itself upon itself as if to strike, and, I presenting a stick, it struck it smartly and then darted away, running swiftly down the hill toward the pond. 

Yellow butterflies. 

Nabalus leaves are already up and coming up in the wood-paths. 

Also the radical leaves of one variety of Solidago arguta, and apparently of S. altissima, are conspicuously up. 

A golden-crowned thrush hops quite near. It is quite small, about the size of the creeper, with the upper part of its breast thickly and distinctly pencilled with black, a tawny head; and utters now only a sharp cluck for a chip

See and hear a redstart, the rhythm of whose strain is tse'-tse, tse'-tse, tse', emphasizing the last syllable of all and not ending with the common tsear

Hear the night-warbler. 

The Uvularia perfoliata, which did not show itself at all on the 3d, is now conspicuous, and one is open but will not shed pollen before to-morrow. It has shot up about ten inches in one case and bloomed within thirteen days!! 

Ranunculus repens at Brister's Spring; how long? Was that R. repens at the Everett Spring on the 3d? [Yes.]

The whip-poor-will heard. 

E. Hoar detected the other day two ovaries under one scale of a Salix rostrata, and, under another, a stamen and another stamen converted into an ovary.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, May 16, 1858

To Uvularia perfoliata at Flint's Pond.
 See May 30, 1857 ("By the path near the northeast shore of Flint's Pond. . .  am surprised to find it the Uvularia perfoliata, which I have not found hereabouts before.");  May 3, 1858 ("See no signs of the Uvularia perfoliata yet; apparently will not bloom within ten days") See also A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Bellworts

A hummingbird in some lights the shade the throat was a clear bright scarlet, but in the sun it glowed with splendid metallic, fiery reflections. See  May 17, 1856 (" A splendid male hummingbird . . . This golden-green gem. Its burnished back looks as if covered with green scales dusted with gold. . . . turning toward me that splendid ruby on its breast, that glowing ruby.") May 15, 1855("Hear a hummingbird in the garden."); May 16, 1852 ("I hear a hummingbird about the columbines.").

Tuesday, May 16, 2017

Swallows flying low.

May 16

P. M. — To Hill for pines. 

The meadows are now mostly bare, the grass showing itself above the water that is left, and an unusual number of swallows are flying low over it. 

A yellow lily out, and, on the hill, a red cedar, maybe a day.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, May 16, 1857

[A]n unusual number of swallows are flying low over it. See  April 29, 1854 (" The barn swallows are very numerous, flying low over the water in the rain.”);  April 30, 1855 ("circling about and flying . . .about six inches above the water, — it was cloudy and almost raining”); April 30, 1856 ("I was surprised by the great number of swallows—white-bellied and barn swallows and perhaps republican — flying round and round, or skimming very low over the meadow. . .There were a thousand or more of swallows, and I think that they had recently arrived together on their migration.");  May 11, 1856 ("There are many swallows circling low over the river behind Monroe’s, — bank swallows, barn, republican, chimney, and white-bellied. These are all circling together a foot or two over the water, passing within ten or twelve feet of me in my boat.");  May 20, 1858 (“Hundreds of swallows are now skimming close over the river, at its broadest part, where it is shallow and runs the swiftest, just below the Island”); July 21, 1860 ("Now, after the rain, the sun coming forth brightly, the swallows in numbers are skimming low over the river just below the junction.”)


Monday, May 16, 2016

A Book of the Seasons: May 16 (bellwort, columbine, violets, fragance, full moon, this genial earth)


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


So clear bright and fresh
the whole earth is one flower
genial to man.
May 16, 1854

Sessile-leaved bellwort 
turn up the drooping flower
a six-pointed star.

May 16, 2023

It is a splendid day, so clear and bright and fresh; the warmth of the air and the bright tender verdure putting forth on all sides make an impression of luxuriance and genialness, so perfectly fresh. May 16, 1854

Trees generally leafing. May 16, 1855

The rich crimson leaf-buds of the grape are rapidly unfolding, scattered along the vine; and the various leaves unfolding are flower-like, and taken together are more interesting than any flower. May 16, 1854

Black willow leafs. Bass leaf is an inch over; probably began about the 14th. Panicled andromeda leafed in some places, probably a day or two. Grape buds begin to open. Swamp white oak leaf, probably yesterday. Silky cornel leaf, two days or three. May 16, 1855

The S. Torreyana catkins are so reddish that at a little distance it looks some what like the common black cherry now leafing. May 16, 1858


The meadows are now mostly bare, the grass showing itself above the water that is left, and an unusual number of swallows are flying low over it. May 16, 1857

Think how thoroughly the trees are thus explored by various birds. The whole North American forest is being thus explored for insect food now by several hundred species of birds. May 16, 1860

I see a small creeper hopping along the branches of the oaks and pines, ever turning this way and that as it hops, making various angles with the bough; then flies across to another bough, or to the base of another tree, and traces that up, zigzag and prying into the crevices. May 16, 1860

A golden-crowned thrush keeps the trunks of the young trees between me and it as it hops away. May 16, 1860

A golden-crowned thrush hops quite near. It is quite small, about the size of the creeper, with the upper part of its breast thickly and distinctly pencilled with black, a tawny head; and utters now only a sharp cluck for a chip. May 16, 1858

Hear a tanager to-day, and one was seen yesterday. May 16, 1859 


Hear a bobolink and kingbird. May 16, 1859. See again the warbler of yesterday . . . Its note, with little variation, is like twit twit, twit twit, twitter twitter twe. It must be the parti-colored warbler. May 16, 1858

Now that the warblers are here in such numbers is the very time on another account to study them, for the leaf buds are generally but just expanding, and if you look toward the light you can see every bird that flits through a small grove, but a few weeks hence the leaves will conceal them. May 16, 1860

See and hear a redstart, the rhythm of whose strain is tse'-tse, tse'-tse, tse', emphasizing the last syllable of all and not ending with the common tsear. May 16, 1858

Look into several red-wing blackbirds' nests which are now being built, but no eggs yet. They are generally hung between two twigs, say of button-bush. May 16, 1854

A woodcock, near river. May 16, 1855

A green bittern with its dark-green coat and crest, sitting watchful, goes off with a limping peetweet flight. May 16, 1855

At eve the first spark of a nighthawk. May 16, 1859

Heard the whip-poor-will this evening. May 16, 1851. The whip-poor-will heard. May 16, 1858

A hummingbird yesterday came into the next house and was caught. Flew about our parlor to-day and tasted Sophia's flowers. In some lights you saw none of the colors of its throat. In others, in the shade the throat was a clear bright scarlet, but in the sun it glowed with splendid metallic, fiery reflections about the neck and throat. May 16, 1858

I hear a hummingbird about the columbines. May 16, 1852

Methinks the columbine here is more remarkable for growing out of the seams of the rocks than the saxifrage, and perhaps better deserves the latter name.[ from Latin, feminine off saxifragus breaking rocks, from saxum rock + frangere to break] It is now in its prime, ornamental for nature's rockwork. It is a beautiful sight to see large clusters of splendid scarlet and yellow flowers growing out of a seam in the side of this gray cliff. May 16, 1852

The sessile-leaved bellwort, with three or four delicate pale-green leaves with reflexed edges, on a tender-looking stalk, the single modest-colored flower gracefully drooping, neat, with a fugacious, richly spiced fragrance, facing the ground, the dry leaves, as if unworthy to face the heavens. It is a beautiful sight, a pleasing discovery,  the first of the season, -- growing in a little straggling company, in damp woods or swamps. When you turn up the drooping flower, its petals make a perfect geometrical figure, a six-pointed star. May 16, 1852

 To Uvularia perfoliata at Flint's Pond . . . which did not show itself at all on the 3d, is now conspicuous, and one is open but will not shed pollen before to-morrow. It has shot up about ten inches in one case and bloomed within thirteen days!! May 16, 1858

The Viola ovata is now very common, but rather indistinct in the grass, in both high and low land, in the sod where there is yet but little grass. May 16, 1852

I observe some very pale blue Viola cuculata in the meadows. May 16, 1852

Rhodora, trillium, and yellow violets yesterday at least. May 16, 1853

The earth reflects the heavens in violets. May 16, 1852

The whole earth is fragrant as a bouquet held to your nose. A fine, delicious fragrance, which will come to the senses only when it will. May 16, 1852

We smell the fresher and cooler air from where the storm has passed.  May 16, 1853

A sweet scent fills the air from the expanding leafets. May 16, 1854

The earth is all fragrant as one flower. And bobolinks tinkle in the air. Nature now is perfectly genial to man. May 16, 1854 

A splendid full moon to-night. May 16, 1851

In the moonlight night what intervals are created! . . . There may be only three objects, — myself, a pine tree, and the moon, nearly equidistant. May 16, 1851

*****

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Bellworts

*****
May 16, 2026

Trees generally leafing. See May 17, 1852 ("The woods putting forth new leaves; it is a memorable season. So hopeful! These young leaves have the beauty of flowers”)

An unusual number of swallows are flying low. See April 29, 1854 (" The barn swallows are very numerous, flying low over the water in the rain.”); April 30, 1855 ("circling about and flying . . .about six inches above the water, — it was cloudy and almost raining”); April 30, 1856 ("I was surprised by the great number of swallows—white-bellied and barn swallows and perhaps republican — flying round and round, or skimming very low over the meadow. . .There were a thousand or more of swallows, and I think that they had recently arrived together on their migration."); May 11, 1856 ("There are many swallows circling low over the river behind Monroe’s, — bank swallows, barn, republican, chimney, and white-bellied. These are all circling together a foot or two over the water, passing within ten or twelve feet of me in my boat."); May 20, 1858 (“Hundreds of swallows are now skimming close over the river, at its broadest part, where it is shallow and runs the swiftest, just below the Island”); July 21, 1860 ("Now, after the rain, the sun coming forth brightly, the swallows in numbers are skimming low over the river just below the junction.”)

I see a small creeper.
See November 16, 1859 ("It begins at the base, and creeps rapidly upward by starts, adhering close to the bark and shifting a little from side to side often till near the top, then suddenly darts off downward to the base of another tree, where it repeats the same course.”}

The leaf buds are generally but just expanding, and if you look toward the light you can see every bird that flits through a small grove See May 15, 1859 ("Now, when the warblers begin to come in numbers with the leafing of the trees, the woods are so open that you can easily see them")

Hear a tanager to-day, and one was seen yesterday.
See May 13, 1853 (“Methinks I hear and see the tanager now.”); May 15, 1856 ("As I sat by the Riordan crossing, thought it was the tanager I heard?"); May 18, 1851("The scarlet tanagers are come.”). May 19, 1856 (“The tanager is now heard plainly and frequently.”) See also A Book of Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Scarlet Tanager


Hear a bobolink and kingbird. See May 16, 1854 ("The earth is all fragrant as one flower. And bobolinks tinkle in the air.”) See also May 10, 1853 ("New days, then, have come. . . now made perfect by the twittering of the kingbird and the whistle of the oriole amid the elms,, - if not already the bobolink.")

A green bittern with its dark-green coat and crest goes off with a limping peetweet flight.
See August 31, 1858 (“At Goose Pond I scare up a small green bittern. It plods along low, a few feet over the surface, with limping flight, and alights on a slender water-killed stump, and voids its excrement just as it starts again, as if to lighten itself.”) and note to July 30, 1856 ("A green bittern crosses in my rear with heavy flapping flight . . . looks deep slate-blue above, yellow legs, whitish streak along throat and breast.”)

At eve the first spark of a nighthawk.
See May 17, 1853 ("I hear the first unquestionable nighthawk squeak and see him circling far off high above the earth. It is now about 5 o'clock p. m");; May 23, 1857 ("and at evening I hear the spark of a nighthawk."); May 25, 1852 ("First nighthawks squeak and boom."); See also A Book of Seasons, by Henry Thoreau,, the Nighthawk

A hummingbird in some lights the shade the throat was a clear bright scarlet, but in the sun it glowed with splendid metallic, fiery reflections. See May 17, 1856 (" A splendid male hummingbird . . . This golden-green gem. Its burnished back looks as if covered with green scales dusted with gold. . . . turning toward me that splendid ruby on its breast, that glowing ruby.") May 15, 1855("Hear a hummingbird in the garden."); May 16, 1852 ("I hear a hummingbird about the columbines.").

Methinks the columbine here is more remarkable for growing out of the seams of the rocks than the saxifrage, and perhaps better deserves the latter name
. . .[ Latin, saxifragus breaking rocks, from saxum rock + frangere to break]. See May 12, 1855 ("Under Lee’s Cliff, . . . am surprised to find some pale-yellow columbines.”)

To Uvularia perfoliata at Flint's Pond . . . which did not show itself at all on the 3d. See 
May 30, 1857 ("By the path near the northeast shore of Flint's Pond. . .  am surprised to find it the Uvularia perfoliata, which I have not found hereabouts before.");  May 3, 1858 ("See no signs of the Uvularia perfoliata yet; apparently will not bloom within ten days")

In the moonlight night there may be only three objects. See September 22, 1854 (“By moonlight all is simple. We are enabled to erect ourselves, our minds, on account of the fewness of objects. We are no longer distracted. It is simple as bread and water.”)

There are three objects  --
 the moon a pine tree and me --
in the moonlight night
May 16, 1851
Sessile-leaved bellwort


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.

May 15  <<<<< May 16  >>>>>  May 17

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, May 16
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

https://tinyurl.com/HDT16May


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