How many turtles put into the river?

May 19

Put my little turtles into the river. They had not noticeably increased in size, – or hardly. Three had died within a week for want of attention, two mud turtles and one musk turtle. Two were missing, one mud and one musk. Five musk were put into the river.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, May 19, 1855

Little mud turtles. See April 1, 1858 ("I see on the wet mud a little snapping turtle evidently hatched last year . . . Talk of great heads, look at this one!");  June 7, 1854 (“Now I see a snapping turtle . . . It had just been excavating.”); August 26, 1854 ("Open one of my snapping turtle's eggs . . . When I behold this monster thus steadily advancing toward maturity, all nature abetting, I am convinced that there must be an irresistible necessity for mud turtles."); September 11, 1852 ("Genius is like the snapping-turtle born with a great developed head.");  September 16, 1854 ("I find the mud turtle’s eggs at the Desert all hatched, one still left in the nest . . . At length it puts out its head and legs, turns itself round, and crawls to the water.");

Little musk turtles. See September 9, 1854 ("I find a little hole, three quarters of an inch or an inch over, above my small tortoise eggs, and find a young tortoise coming out . . . It is the Sternothærus odoratus — already has the strong scent — and now has drawn in its head and legs.");  September 11, 1854 ("Measured to-day the little Sternothærus odoratus which came out the ground in the garden September 9th . . . It does not so much impress me as an infantile beginning of life as an epitome of all the past of turtledom and of the earth. I think of it as the result of all the turtles that have been.")  See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Musk Turtle (Sternothaerus odoratus)

Lightning here this evening and an aurora in form of a segment of a circle.

May 19. 

Up to about the 14th of May I watched the progress of the season very closely, — though not so carefully the earliest birds, – but since that date, both from poor health and multiplicity of objects, I have noted little but what fell under my observation. 

May 19, 2019

The pear trees are in bloom before the apples. 

The cherries appear to have been blasted by the winter.

 

The lilac has begun to blossom. 

There was the first lightning we have noticed this year, last Sunday evening, and a thunder-storm in Walpole, N. H.  

Lightning here this evening and an aurora in form of a segment of a circle.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, May 19, 1852

The first lightning we have noticed this year. See May 9, 1859 ("The first thunder this afternoon."); May 10, 1857(" A sudden shower with some thunder and lightning; the first."); May 11, 1854 (“I suspect that summer weather may be always ushered in in a similar manner, — thunder-shower, rainbow, smooth water, and warm night”); May 16, 1853 ("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"); May 20, 1856 ("So now is Nature’s grandest voice heard, and her sharpest flashes seen."); May 29, 1857 ("A first regular summer thunder-shower, preceded by a rush of wind.")

An aurora in form of a segment of a circle. See May 10, 1852 ("There is an aurora borealis to-night.");  June 16, 1852 ("There are northern lights, shooting high up withal.");July 12, 1852 ("As I sit on the river-bank beyond the ash tree there is an aurora, a low arc of a circle, in the north.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Northern Lights

May 19.  See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, May 19

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

A May storm, gentle and warm – Foliage changes several shades darker in the rain seen while still cloudy.

May 19. 

Thunder-showers in the night, and it still storms, with holdings-up. A May storm, gentle and rather warm. 

The days of the golden willow are over for this season; their withered catkins strew the causeways and cover the water and also my boat, which is moored beneath them. 

The locust has grown three inches and is blossom-budded. It may come just after the white ash at least, and before the celtis. 

The weather toward evening still cloudy and some what mizzling. 

The foliage of the young maples, elms, etc., in the street has become, since the rain commenced, several shades darker, changing from its tender and lighter green, as if the electricity of the thunder-storm may have had some effect on it. 

It is best observed while it is still cloudy; almost a bluish, no longer yellowish green, it is peculiarly rich. 

The very grass appears to have undergone a similar change.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, May 19, 1853

The days of the golden willow are over for this season. Compare May 14, 1852 ("Going over the Corner causeway, the willow blossoms fill the air with a sweet fragrance, and I am ready to sing, Ah! willow, willow! These willows have yellow bark, bear yellow flowers and yellowish-green leaves, and are now haunted by the summer yellowbird and Maryland yellow-throat") See also A Book of Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau. Willows on the Causeway.

The locust has grown three inches and is blossom-budded. See June 10, 1853 ("The locust bloom is now perfect, filling the street with its sweetness."); June 7, 1854 ("The locusts so full of pendulous white racemes five inches long, filling the air with their sweetness and resounding with the hum of humble and honey bees"); June 9, 1852 ("The locust in bloom"); June 11, 1856 ("The locust in graveyard shows but few blossoms yet.")

It may come just after the white ash at least, and before the celtis. See May 18, 1853 ("White ash fully in bloom."); May 18, 1853 ("The Celtis occidentalis in bloom, maybe a day")

A May storm, gentle and rather warm.See May 17, 1853 ("Does not summer begin after the May storm?”);  note to May 18, 1853 ("Perchance a May storm is brewing. This day it has mizzled  . . . Methinks this is common at this season of the tender foliage.")

The very grass appears to have undergone a similar change. Compare May 19, 1860 ("The grass and the tender leaves, refreshed and expanded by the rain, are peculiarly bright and yellowish-green when seen in a favorable light.").

May 19. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, May 19

Foliage changes

several shades darker in the rain

seen while still cloudy.

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

A warm, muggy, rainy evening

May 19. 

Our Azalea nudiflora flowers. 

It is a warm, muggy, rainy evening, when the nighthawks commonly spark and the whip-poor-will is heard.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, May 19, 1859

Our Azalea nudiflora flowers. See note to May 31, 1853 ( It blossomed at the old election time, and he thought it 'the handsomest flower that grows.’”)

When the nighthawks commonly spark. See May 16, 1859 (“At eve the first spark of a nighthawk.”)

May 19.  See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, May 19

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

Heard the night-warbler begin his strain just like an oven-bird!

May 19. 

A. M. – Surveying (by the eye) for Warner the meadow surveyed for John Hosmer in June, ’56. 

The black currant near southwest corner of his Saw Mill field (Ribes floridum) perfectly out; how long? 

P. M. – To Everett Spring.

May 19, 2019

There appears to be quite a variety in the colors of the Viola cucullata [blue marsh violet]. Some dark-blue, if not lilac (?), some with a very dark blue centre and whitish circum ference, others dark-blue within and dark without, others all very pale blue. 

May 19, 2019

Stellaria borealis well out, apparently several days. 

What I called the Ranunculus bulbosus there May 3d proves to be the R. repens. It would appear then to be the earliest ranunculus. It is a dense bed of yellow now. I am struck by the light spot in the sinuses of the leaves. 

The Equisetum sylvaticum there is now of a reddish cast. 

Starflower (Trientalis borealis)

May 19, 2023

R. W. E. says that Pratt found yesterday out the trientalis, Trillium cernuum, and Smilacina bifolia. 

Four rods plus south of the cross-fence over Everett's hill, on the west slope, I find the Ranunculus abortivus, two plants open only; but will not shed pollen till to-morrow. 

A rod or two further the Equisetum hyemale, apparently a little past bloom, or effete, all the heads open. 

Looking with my glass into the Gourgas pond-hole, I see three or four buck-bean blossoms. 

Two birds about the size and of the appearance of a pigeon or turtle dove start up with a loud alarm note from the shallow muddy flat there, — with a harsh shrill cry, phil phil phil or the like. At first I could not guess what they were, but since concluded that they were the larger yellow-legs. 

Could this bird have made the sound heard on the 15th? 

There remained feeding on the mud along the water's edge two peetweet-like birds, but apparently larger and less teetering. I thought they were T. solitaires. 

Heard the night-warbler begin his strain just like an oven-bird! I have noticed that when it drops down into the woods it darts suddenly one side to a perch when low.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, May 19, 1858

Surveying for Warner the meadow surveyed for John Hosmer in June, ’56. See June 3, 1856 ("Surveying for John Hosmer beyond pail-factory”); June 4, 1856 (“Surveying for J. Hosmer . . .running a line on the west edge of Loring’s Pond, south of the brook.”).  Also  June 6, 1856 ("J. Hosmer, who is prosecuting Warner for flowing his land, says that the trees are not only broken off when young by weight of ice, but, being rubbed and barked by it, become warty or bulge out there.")

There appears to be quite a variety in the colors of the Viola cucullata. See May 15, 1856  ("Viola cucullata abundant now.”); May 20, 1852 ("The Viola ovata is of a deep purple blue, is darkest and has most of the red in it; the V. pedata is smooth and pale-blue, delicately tinged with purple reflections; the cucullata is more decidedly blue, slaty-blue, and darkly striated.")

Two birds start up with a loud alarm note from the shallow muddy flat with a harsh shrill cry, phil phil phil or the like The larger yellow-legs. See May 31, 1854 ( "It acts the part of a telltale." "watchful, but not timid, ... while it stands on the lookout ... wades in the water to the middle of its yellow legs; goes off with a loud and sharp phe phe phe phe. ...”); August 5, 1855 (" Hear a yellow-legs flying over,—phe' phe phe, phe' phe phe.”); September 14, 1854 ("A flock of thirteen tell tales, great yellow-legs, start up with their shrill whistle from the midst of the great Sudbury meadow, and away they sail in a flock. . .to alight in a more distant place.”)

Heard the night-warbler begin his strain just like an oven-bird!  Thoreau's night-warbler  is likely the oven-bird making its flight call. According to Emerson the night warbler is "a bird he had never identified, had been in search of twelve years, which always, when he saw it, was in the act of diving down into a tree or bush.” See  May 8, 1860 ("The night-warbler's note.");  May 9, 1852 ("Heard the night warbler.”); May 9, 1853 ("Again I think I heard the night-warbler.”); May 10, 1854 ("Heard the night-warbler. “);  May 12, 1857 ("A night-warbler, plainly light beneath. It always flies to a new perch immediately after its song");.  May 13, 1855 ("At 9.30 P.M. I hear from our gate my night-warbler. Never heard it in the village before.”); May 14, 1852 (“Most birds are silent in the storm.Hear the robin, oven-bird, night warbler, and [etc.]); May 16, 1858 ("Hear the night-warbler"); May 17, 1858 ("Just after hearing my night-warbler I see two birds on a tree. ...[One perhaps golden-crowned thrush. ]”); May 19, 1858 (“Heard the night-warbler begin his strain just like an oven-bird! I have noticed that when it drops down into the woods it darts suddenly one side to a perch when low."); May 28, 1854 ("The night-warbler, after his strain, drops down almost perpendicularly into a tree-top and is lost.”). See also May 12, 1855 (“We sit about half an hour, and it is surprising what various distinct sounds we hear there deep in the wood, as if the aisles of the wood were so many ear trumpets,-- the cawing of crows, the peeping of hylas in the swamp and perhaps the croaking of a tree-toad, the oven-bird, the yorrick of Wilson’s thrush, a distant stake-driver, the night-warbler and black and white creeper, the lowing of cows, the late supper horn, the voices of boys, the singing of girls, -- not all together but separately, distinctly, and musically, from where the partridge and the red-tailed hawk and the screech owl sit on their nests.”)

May 19.  See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, May 19

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 pollywogs at Moore's Swamp on Bedford Road.

May 19. 

A. M. — Surveying D. Shattuck's wood-lot beyond Peter's. 

See myriads of minute pollywogs, recently hatched, in the water of Moore's Swamp on Bedford road.

Digging again to find a stake in woods, came across a nest or colony of wood ants, yellowish or sand-color, a third of an inch long, with their white grubs, now squirming, still larger, and emitting that same pungent spicy odor, perhaps too pungent to be compared with lemon-peel. 

This is the second time I have found them in this way this spring (vide April 28th). Is not the pungent scent emitted by wasps quite similar? 

I see the ferns all blackened on the hillside next the meadow, by the frost within a night or two. 

That ant scent is not at all sickening, but tonic, and reminds me of a bitter flavor like that of peach-meats.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, May 19, 1857

See myriads of minute pollywogs, recently hatched, in the water of Moore's Swamp. See May 20, 1856 ("At Moore’s Swamp on Bedford road, myriads of pollywogs half an inch long darken or blacken the shore, chiefly head as yet.");  May 31, 1857 ("In the ditches in Moore's Swamp on the new Bedford road, the myriads of pollywogs, now three quarters of an inch long, crowding close to the edge, make a continuous black edging to the pool a foot wide. I see where thousands have been left high and dry and are now trodden into the sand, yet preserving their forms, spotting it with black."); June 15, 1855 ("To Moore’s Swamp. . . . Many pollywogs an inch long."); June 20, 1854 ("A cloud of minute black pollywogs in a muddy pool.")

This is the second time I have found them in this way this spring. See April 28, 1857 ("Looking for an "old pine stump" mentioned in a deed . . .we turned up. . .a large body of short, chunked, yellowish ants . . . a very strong penetrating scent, yet agreeable and very spicy . . .very strong lemon-peel.")

May 19.  See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, May 19

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

A Book of the Seasons: May 19 (blossom to fruit, spring green to darker green, shadows of clouds over now-waving grass)

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

May 19

Foliage changes 

several shades darker in the rain

seen while still cloudy.

May 19, 1853

Nature advances

with such unobserved dispatch –

not an instant's pause.

May 19, 1854

After the warm rain

a strong southwest wind blows off

the apple blossoms.

Shadows of  bright clouds 

sweep over the meadow-grass

waving in the wind.

May 19, 1860

May 19, 2014

Thunder-showers in the night, and it still storms . . . A May storm, gentle and rather warm. May 19, 1853

There is a strong southwest wind after the rain, rather novel and agreeable, blowing off some apple blossoms. May 19, 1860

This is the season when the meadow-grass is seen waving in the wind at the same time that the shadows of clouds are passing over it. May 19, 1860

The grass, especially the meadow-grasses, are seen to wave distinctly, and the shadows of the bright fair-weather cumuli are sweeping over them like the shades of a watered or changeable stuff — June like. May 19, 1860

Sorrel just begins to redden some fields. May 19, 1860

I do not see a single shad-bush in bloom across the pond, where they had just fairly begun on the 6th. May 19, 1860

With what unobserved secure dispatch nature advances! The amelanchiers have bloomed, and already both kinds have shed their blossoms and show minute green fruit. There is not an instant's pause!  May 19, 1854

There appears to be quite a variety in the colors of the Viola cucullata. Some dark-blue, if not lilac, some with a very dark blue centre and whitish circumference, others dark-blue within and dark without, others all very pale blue. May 19, 1858

To Everett Spring . . . What I called the Ranunculus bulbosus there May 3d proves to be the R. repens. It would appear then to be the earliest ranunculus. It is a dense bed of yellow now. I am struck by the light spot in the sinuses of the leaves.  May 19, 1858

Stellaria borealis well out, apparently several days. May 19, 1858

At the Ministerial Swamp I see a white ladys-slipper almost out, fully grown, with red ones. May 19, 1860

The days of the golden willow are over for this season; their withered catkins strew the cause ways and cover the water and also my boat, which is moored beneath them. May 19, 1853

The locust has grown three inches and is blossom-budded. May 19, 1853

The hazel is now a pretty green bush. May 19, 1854

The white pine shoots are now two or three inches long generally, — upright light marks on the body of dark green. May 19, 1854

The lilac has begun to blossom. May 19, 1852

Wood pewee. May 19, 1856

The tanager is now heard plainly and frequently. May 19, 1856

Hear and see a yellow-throated vireo, which methinks I have heard before. May 19, 1856

Heard the night-warbler begin his strain just like an oven-bird! I have noticed that when it drops down into the woods it darts suddenly one side to a perch when low. May 19, 1858

The robin's nest and eggs are the earliest I see. May 19, 1854

As I sail up the reach of the Assabet above Dove Rock with a fair wind, a traveller riding along the highway is watching my sail while he hums a tune.  . . . As he looked at my sail, I listened to his singing.  May 19, 1856

Saw a small striped snake in the act of swallowing a Rana palustris, within three feet of the water. The snake, being frightened, released his hold, and the frog hopped off to the water. May 19, 1856 

See a green snake, a very vivid yellow green, of the same color with the tender foliage at present, and as if his colors had been heightened by the rain. May 19, 1860

The foliage of the young maples, elms, etc., in the street has become, since the rain commenced, several shades darker, changing from its tender and lighter green. May 19, 1853

It is best observed while it is still cloudy; almost a bluish, no longer yellowish green, it is peculiarly rich. The very grass appears to have undergone a similar change. May 19, 1853

The weather toward evening still cloudy and somewhat mizzling.   May 19, 1853

It is a warm, muggy, rainy evening, when the nighthawks commonly spark and the whip-poor-will is heard. May 19, 1859

I hear the sprayey-note frog now at sunset. May 19, 1854

Lightning here this evening and an aurora in form of a segment of a circle. May 19, 1852

*****

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Reminiscence and Prompting

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The world can never be more beautiful than now.

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Spring Leaf-out

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Shad-bush, Juneberry, or Service-berry (Amelanchier canadensis)

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Willows on the Causeway

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Hazel  

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Violet

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau,  Wood Sorrel

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Ranunculus Repens

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

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Oven-bird

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Eastern Wood Pewee

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Scarlet Tanager

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Robin in Spring

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

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Striped Snake

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Nature 

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, There was an artist in the City of Kouroo

May 19, 2024

Nature advances without an instant's pause. See September 17, 1839 ("Nature never makes haste; her systems revolve at an even pace. The bud swells imperceptibly, without hurry or confusion, as though the short spring days were an eternity.");  May 23, 1841 ("All nature is a new impression every instant"); August 19, 1851 ("Nature rests no longer at her culminating point than at any other.");   September 13, 1852 ("Nature never lost a day, nor a moment . . .The plant waits a whole year, and then blossoms the instant it is ready and the earth is ready for it, without the conception of delay.");  September 24, 1859 ("Great works of art have endless leisure for a background, as the universe has space. Time stands still while they are created. The artist cannot be in [a] hurry. The earth moves round the sun with inconceivable rapidity, and yet the surface of the lake is not ruffled by it."); November 8, 1860 ("Consider how persevering Nature is, and how much time she has to work in, though she works slowly."); January 14, 1861 ("Nature is slow but sure; she works no faster than need be.") 

A May storm, gentle and rather warm.  See May 17, 1853 ("Does not summer begin after the May storm?”) and note to May 18, 1853 ("Perchance a May storm is brewing. This day it has mizzled  . . . Methinks this is common at this season of the tender foliage.")

There is a stong southwest wind after the rain, rather novel and agreeable, blowing off some apple blossoms. See May 20, 1854 ("Methinks we always have at this time those washing winds as now, when the choke-berry is in bloom, — bright and breezy days blowing off some apple blossoms.”); May 27 1852 ("The road is white with the apple blossoms fallen off, as with snowflakes.”); June 1, 1855 ("A very windy day, . . . scattering the remaining apple blossoms.”)

Shadows of the bright fair-weather cumuli.  See May 30, 1852 (“A breezy, washing day. A day for shadows, even of moving clouds, over fields in which the grass is beginning to wave.”)

R. repens . . . is a dense bed of yellow now. I am struck by the light spot in the sinuses of the leaves. See May 17, 1853 ("The Ranunculus repens perhaps yesterday, with its spotted leaves and its not recurved calyx though furrowed stem.")

The locust has grown three inches and is blossom-budded. See June 7, 1854 ("The locusts so full of pendulous white racemes five inches long, filling the air with their sweetness and resounding with the hum of humble and honey bees"); June 9, 1852 ("The locust in bloom"); June 11, 1856 ("The locust in graveyard shows but few blossoms yet.")

The days of the golden willow are over for this season. Compare May 14, 1852 ("Going over the Corner causeway, the willow blossoms fill the air with a sweet fragrance, and I am ready to sing, Ah! willow, willow! These willows have yellow bark, bear yellow flowers and yellowish-green leaves, and are now haunted by the summer yellowbird and Maryland yellow-throat") See also A Book of Seasons, by Henry Thoreau. Willows on the Causeway.

Hear and see a yellow-throated vireo, which methinks I have heard before.  See May 27, 1854 ("I see and hear the yellow-throated vireo. It is somewhat similar (its strain) to that of the red-eye, prelia pre-li-ay, with longer intervals and occasionally a whistle like tlea tlow, or chowy chow, or tully ho on a higher key.”)

Heard the night-warbler begin his strain just like an oven-bird! Thoreau's night-warbler is likely the oven-bird making its flight call. According to Emerson the night warbler is "a bird he had never identified, had been in search of twelve years, which always, when he saw it, was in the act of diving down into a tree or bush.” See May 8, 1860 ("The night-warbler's note."); May 9, 1852 ("Heard the night warbler.”); May 9, 1853 ("Again I think I heard the night-warbler.”); May 10, 1854 ("Heard the night-warbler. “); May 12, 1857 ("A night-warbler, plainly light beneath. It always flies to a new perch immediately after its song");. May 13, 1855 ("At 9.30 P.M. I hear from our gate my night-warbler. Never heard it in the village before.”); May 14, 1852 (“Most birds are silent in the storm.Hear the robin, oven-bird, night warbler, and [etc.]); May 16, 1858 ("Hear the night-warbler"); May 17, 1858 ("Just after hearing my night-warbler I see two birds on a tree. ...[One perhaps golden-crowned thrush. ]”); May 28, 1854 ("The night-warbler, after his strain, drops down almost perpendicularly into a tree-top and is lost.”). 

A traveller riding along the highway is watching my sail while he hums a tune. See March 26, 1855 ("Sail down to the Great Meadows. A strong wind with snow driving from the west and thickening the air. The farmers pause to see me scud before it."); April 18, 1856 ("The farmer neglects his team to watch my sail."); September 27, 1858 ("The farmers digging potatoes on shore pause a moment to watch my sail and bending mast.")

Saw a small striped snake in the act of swallowing a Rana palustris, The snake, being frightened, released his hold, and the frog hopped off to the water. See August 23, 1851 ("He had a toad in his jaws, which he was preparing to swallow with his jaws distended to three times his width, but he relinquished his prey in haste and fled"); July 23, 1856 ("Saw . . . a small bullfrog in the act of swallowing a young but pretty sizable apparently Rana palustris, . . . I sprang to make him disgorge, but it was too late to save him. ")

When the nighthawks commonly spark. See May 16, 1859 (“At eve the first spark of a nighthawk.”)

 

May 19, 2014

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.

  April 7, 1853  

May 18.  < <<<<<  May 19.>>>>> May 20 

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, May 19

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 © 2009-2024

As he looked at my sail, I listened to his singing.

May 19

Thick fog in the morning, which lasted late in the forenoon and left behind it rainy clouds for the afternoon. 

P. M. — To Cedar Swamp. 

Landed at Island Neck, and saw a small striped snake in the act of swallowing a Rana palustris, within three feet of the water. The snake, being frightened, released his hold, and the frog hopped off to the water. 

Hear and see a yellow-throated vireo, which methinks I have heard before. Going and coming, he is in the top of the same swamp white oak and singing indolently, ullia — eelya, and sometimes varied to eelyee. 

The tanager is now heard plainly and frequently. 

Aquatic Wood-wagtail
(Audubon)

I see running along the water’s edge on the Island Neck, amid the twigs, a new bird, slender and somewhat warbler-like, but plainly a Turdus, with a deep, dark chocolate-brown back (apparently uniformly) , apparently cream-colored beneath, handsomely and abundantly spotted with dark brown, vent white, light flesh-colored legs, yellowish or cream-colored line over eyes. Me thinks it teetered or wagged its tail. Flew soon and was quite shy. I think it must have been the Turdus aquaticus from its dark chocolate-brown back and running along the water’s edge. Feel pretty sure, yet that is said to have white (?) over eye. I lost it before I had examined fully. Quite a discovery. Vide golden-crowned thrush carefully. 

Apple in bloom; some, no doubt, earlier. Night hawk’s squeak. Red-Wing’s nest made, and a robin's without mud, on black willow four feet above water. 

As I sail up the reach of the Assabet above Dove Rock with a fair wind, a traveller riding along the highway is watching my sail while he hums a tune. How inspiring and elysian it is to hear when the traveller or the laborer from a call to his horse or the murmur of ordinary conversation rises into song! It paints the landscape suddenly as no agriculture, no flowery crop that can be raised. It is at once another land, the abode of poetry. I am always thus affected when I hear in the fields any singing or instrumental music at the end of the day. It implies a different life and pursuits than the ordinary. As he looked at my sail, I listened to his singing. Perchance they were equally poetic, and we repaid each other. Why will not men oftener advertise me of musical thoughts? The singer is in the attitude of one inviting the muse, — aspiring. 

The Maryland yellow-throat amid the alders sings now, whit-we-chee whit-we-chee whit-we-chee whit-whit, the last two fast, or whit alone, or none.  

Woolly aphides on alder. 

The Smilacina trifolia will apparently bloom to-morrow or next day.

Returning, stopped at Barrett's sawmill while it rained a little. Was also attracted by the music of his saw. He was sawing a white oak log; was about to saw a very ugly and knotty white oak log into drag plank, making an angle. Said that about as many logs were brought to his mill as ten years ago, — he did not perceive the difference, — but they were not so large, and perhaps they went further for them. There were white oak, pine, maple, and walnut logs waiting to be sawed.

I observed that he was not grinding. No, he said, it was the first day he had not had a grist, though he had plenty of water; probably because the farmers were busy planting.  

A bullfrog, sluggish, by my boat’s place. 

On the 13th I saw washed up to the edge of the meadow, this side of Clamshell, portions of one or two large bluish-white eggs, apparently a size larger than hens’ eggs, which may have been laid last year by some wild fowl in the meadow. 

May 19, 2016

If my friend would take a quarter part the pains to show me himself that he does to show me a piece of roast beef, I should feel myself irresistibly invited. He says, — 

“ Come and see
Roast beef and me.”

I find the beef fat and well done, but him rare.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, May 19, 1856

Saw a small striped snake in the act of swallowing a Rana palustris . . . The snake, being frightened, released his hold, and the frog hopped off to the water. See  August 23, 1851 ("I saw a snake by the roadside and touched him with my foot . . . He had a toad in his jaws, which he was preparing to swallow with his jaws distended to three times his width, but he relinquished his prey in haste and fled"); July 23, 1856 ("A small bullfrog in the act of swallowing a young but pretty sizable apparently Rana palustris . . . I sprang to make him disgorge, but it was too late to save him.");

Hear and see a yellow-throated vireo, which methinks I have heard before. See  May 18, 1856 ("I think I hear a yellow-throated vireo. "); May 27, 1854 ("I see and hear the yellow-throated vireo. It is somewhat similar (its strain) to that of the red-eye, prelia pre-li-ay, with longer intervals and occasionally a whistle like tlea tlow, or chowy chow, or tully ho on a higher key.”) See also A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Yellow-throated Vireo

The tanager is now heard plainly and frequently.  See     May 15, 1856 ("As I sat by the Riordan crossing, thought it was the tanager I heard? . . . it must have been a tanager, which I hear frequently the 19th. ");   May 22, 1853 ("Hear the hoarse note of the tanager and the sweet pe-a-wai."); May 23, 1853 ("I hear and see a tanager. How he enhances the wildness and wealth of the woods! ") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Scarlet Tanager in May

I see running along the water’s edge on the Island Neck, amid the twigs, a new bird, slender and somewhat warbler-like, but plainly a Turdus. See May 23, 1860 ("[I see]running along the shore close to the water, at different times, three or four water-thrushes (water wagtails, Turdus Noveboracensis ) . . . It is considerably like the golden-crowned thrush, but it has a distinct buffish-white line over the eye and the breast and sides distinctly striped with dark. All above uniform olive-brown. It may be distinguished at a distance from a sparrow by its wagging motion, teetering on its perch. It persistently runs along the shore, peetweet- and song-sparrow-like, running like a rail around the tussocks and other obstacles and appearing again at the water's edge. It was not very shy.") Note. In 1856, the warbler known today as the northern waterthrush (Parkesia noveboracensis) was most commonly referred to as

• Aquatic Wood-Wagtail, or
• New York Thrush or Water Thrush (Turdus noveboracensis or  Turdus aquaticus). 

Apple in bloom. See The blooming of the apple trees is becoming general.  See May 18, 1851 ("The blooming of the apple trees is becoming general. ") See also A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Apple Blossom Time

 

A traveller riding along the highway is watching my sail while he hums a tune. See March 26, 1855 ('"Sail down to the Great Meadows. A strong wind with snow driving from the west and thickening the air. The farmers pause to see me scud before it."); April 18, 1856 ("The farmer neglects his team to watch my sail."); September 27, 1858 ("The farmers digging potatoes on shore pause a moment to watch my sail and bending mast.")

I am always thus affected when I hear in the fields any singing or instrumental music at the end of the day. See  April 19, 1856 ("Was awakened in the night to a strain of music dying away, — passing travellers singing."); June 14, 1851 ("How sweet and encouraging it is to hear the sound of some artificial music from the midst of woods or from the top of a hill at night, borne on the breeze from some distant farmhouse, — the human voice or a flute!"); June 16, 1852 ("A flute from some villager. How rare among men so fit a thing as the sound of a flute at evening!"); June 18, 1852 ("I hear a man playing a clarionet far off."); June 25, 1852 ("Now his day's work is done, the laborer plays his flute, — only possible at this hour."); July 12, 1851 ("I hear a human voice, — some laborer singing after his day's toil");   July 20, 1853 ("You are pretty sure also to hear some human music, vocal or instrumental, far or near.")  August 15, 1851 ("I hear now from Bear Garden Hill — I rarely walk by moonlight without hearing — the sound of a flute, or a horn, or a human voice.")

The Maryland yellow-throat amid the alders sings now. See May 10, 1858 ("As I paddle along, hear the Maryland yellow-throat, the bobolink, the oven-bird, and the yellow-throated vireo. . . . It is remarkable how many new birds have come all at once to-day.");  May 11, 1854 ("Now, some time after sunset, the robins scold and sing, the Maryland yellow-throat is heard amid the alders and willows by the waterside, and the peetweet and black birds, and sometimes a kingbird, and the tree-toad.")

The Smilacina trifolia will apparently bloom to-morrow or next day. See  May 4, 1856 ("Smilacina trifolia recently up; will apparently open in ten or twelve days. "); See also A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Three-leaved  false Solomon's-seal

 

Returning, stopped at Barrett's sawmill while it rained a little. Was also attracted by the music of his saw. See March 15, 1854 ("The sound of Barrett's sawmill in the still morning comes over the water very loud."); April 15, 1856 ("I hear very distinctly Barrett’s sawmill at my landing."); May 8, 1857 ("I hear the sound of Barrett's sawmill with singular distinctness."); August 17, 1858 ("Being overtaken by a shower, we took refuge in the basement of Sam Barrett’s sawmill, where we spent an hour.")

Wood pewee. See  May 17, 1853 ("I hear the wood pewee, — pe-a-wai. The heat of yesterday has brought him on."); May 17, 1854 ("Hear the wood pewee, the warm weather sound.");  May 22, 1854 ("I hear also pe-a-wee pe-a-wee, and then occasionally pee-yu, the first syllable in a different and higher key emphasized, — all very sweet and naive and innocent"); See also A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Arrival of the Eastern Wood Pewee

May 19.  See A Book of the Seasons, A by Henry Thoreau, May 19

He looked at my sail – 

I listened to his singing

inviting the muse.

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, As he looked at my sail

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 © 2009-2026

https://tinyurl.com/hdt-560519