A Book of the Seasons, The Purple Pitcher Plant

 For the first time I perceive this spring

that the year is a circle.

I would make a chart of our life,

know why just this circle of creatures

completes the world.

Henry Thoreau, April 18, 1852

At Holden's Spruce Swamp. 

The water is frozen in 

the pitcher-plant leaf 

November 16, 1852

(Sarracenia purpurea)

The petals of the sidesaddle-flower,

fully expanded, hang down. How complex it is,

what with flowers and leaves! It is a wholesome

and interesting plant to me,

the leaf especially

.June 12, 1852 

This swamp contains beautiful specimens of the sidesaddle-flower

(Sarracenia purpurea), better called pitcher-plant.  . . .

No plants are more richly painted and streaked

than the inside of the broad lips of these. 

Old Josselyn called this "Hollow-leaved Lavender."

No other plant, methinks, that we have is

so remarkable and singular.

September 28, 1851

May 28.  The sidesaddle-flower conspicuous, but no pollen yet. May 28, 1853

May 30. The sidesaddle-flowers . . . are just beginning to blossom. The last are quite showy flowers when the wind turns them so as to show their undersides. May 30, 1852

June 8.  Sidesaddle, apparently to-morrow (?) June 8, 1854

June 8.   The sidesaddle-flower is out, — how long? June 8, 1858

June 9. Sidesaddle, apparently a day or two; petals hang down. June 9, 1855

June 10. Sidesaddle generally out; petals hang down, apparently a day or two. It is a conspicuous flower. June 10, 1854 

June 12. The petals of the sidesaddle-flower, fully expanded, hang down. How complex it is, what with flowers and leaves! It is a wholesome and interesting plant to me, the leaf especially.June 12, 1852 

June 12. The sidesaddle-flowers are partly turned up now and make a great show, with their broad red petals flapping like saddle ears (?) June 12, 1853 

June 12. Sidesaddle flower numerously out now. June 12, 1856

August 18. We can walk across the Great Meadows now in any direction. They are quite dry. Even the pitcher-plant leaves are empty.August 18, 1854

August 21. In Hubbard's meadow, between the two woods, I can not find a pitcher-plant with any water in it. August 21, 1854 

August 22.  I find at length a pitcher-plant with a spoonful of water in it. It must be last night's dew.  It is wonderful that in all this drought it has not evaporated.  August 22, 1854

September 11. We have had no rain for a week, and yet the pitcher-plants have water in them. Are they ever quite dry? Are they not replenished by the dews always, and, being shaded by the grass, saved from evaporation.  What wells for the birds! September 11, 1851

September 27. I never found a pitcher-plant without an insect in it. The bristles about the nose of the pitcher all point inward, and insects which enter or fall in appear for this reason unable to get out again. It is some obstacle which our senses cannot appreciate. Pitcher-plants more obvious now. September 27, 1851

September 28. This swamp [the spruce swamp in Conant's Grove] contains beautiful specimens of the sidesaddle-flower (Sarracenia purpurea), better called pitcher-plant.  They ray out around the dry scape and flower, which still remain, resting on rich uneven beds of a coarse reddish moss, through which the small flowered andromeda puts up, presenting altogether a most rich and luxuriant appearance to the eye. Though the moss is comparatively dry, I cannot walk without upsetting the numerous pitchers, which are now full of water, and so wetting my feet. I once accidentally sat down on such a bed of pitcher-plants, and found an uncommonly wet seat where I expected a dry one. These leaves are of various colors from plain green to a rich striped yellow or deep red. No plants are more richly painted and streaked than the inside of the broad lips of these.  Old Josselyn called this "Hollow-leaved Lavender." No other plant, methinks, that we have is so remarkable and singular.  September 28, 1851

November 9.  The pitcher plant, though a little frost-bitten and often cut off by the mower, now stands full of water in the meadows. I never found one that had not an insect in it.  November 9, 1850

November 11.  In the meadows the pitcher-plants are bright-red. November 11, 1858

November 15 The water is frozen solid in the leaves of the pitcher plants. November 15, 1857

November 16. At Holden's Spruce Swamp. The water is frozen in the pitcher-plant leaf November 16, 1852

December 31. Even the sidesaddle-flower, where it shows its head above the snow, now gray and leathery, dry, is covered beneath its cap with pretty large close-set light-brown seeds. December 31, 1859

February 11. The water in the pitcher-plant leaves is frozen, but I see none burst. They are very tightly filled and smooth, apparently stretched.  February 11, 1858

February 13.  Cafferty's Swamp. . . How often vegetation is either yellow or red! as the buds of the swamp-pink, the leaves of the pitcher-plant, etc., etc., and to-day I notice yellow-green recent shoots of high blueberry. February 13, 1858 

See also

Mass Audubon, Carnivorous Plants Found in Massachusetts

Kent McFarland, Pitcher Plant’s Web of Life

A Book of the Seasons,   by Henry Thoreau, The Purple Pitcher Plant

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 ©  2009-2025

A Book of the Seasons: Yellow Bethlehem-star (Hypoxis erecta).

 For the first time I perceive this spring

that the year is a circle.  

I would make a chart of our life,

know why just this circle of creatures completes the world.

Henry Thoreau, April 18, 1852

The Hypoxis erecta, yellow Bethlehem-star,

where there is a thick, wiry grass in open path;

should be called yellow-eyed grass, methinks.

June 15, 1851

May 22. A yellow Bethlehem-star. May 22, 1853

May 28. White thorn and yellow Bethlehem-star (Hypoxis erecta). May 28, 1852

May 28. Hypoxis erecta, maybe a day or two. May 28, 1856

June 5. Yellow Bethlehem-star in prime. June 5, 1855

June 6. Yellow Bethlehem-star. June 6, 1858

June 9. There are many star flowers. I remember the anemone, especially the rue anemone, which is not yet all gone, lasting longer than the true one above all the trientalis, and of late the yellow Bethlehem-star, and perhaps others. June 9, 1853

June 15. The Hypoxis erecta, yellow Bethlehem-star, where there is a thick, wiry grass in open path; should be called yellow-eyed grass, methinks. June 15, 1851

July 31. See yellow Bethlehem-star still. July 31, 1856

August 4.  The yellow Bethlehem-star still, and the yellow gerardia, and a bluish "savory-leaved aster." August 4, 1851

August 18. Yellow Bethlehem-star yet, and indigo.  August 18, 1856

August 24. Yellow Bethlehem-star still. August 24, 1853

Hypoxis erecta or Hypoxis hirsuta,  common star-grass,

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Yellow Bethlehem-star

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 © 2009-2025

A Book of the Seasons: Fireflies, winged sparks of fire!

  I would make a chart of our life,

know why just this circle of creatures completes the world.

Henry Thoreau, April 18, 1852

Many men walk by day; few walk by night.

It is a very different season.

Instead of the sun

there are the moon and stars;

instead of the wood thrush

there is the whip-poor-will;

instead of butterflies –

fireflies, winged sparks of fire!

June 1850

June 3, 2016

June 3.  It has been a sultry day, and a slight thunder-shower, and now I see fireflies in the meadows at evening. June 3, 1852

June 4. George Minott says he saw many lightning-bugs a warm evening the forepart of this week, after the rains. Probably it was the 29th. June 4, 1853

June 7. Mosquitoes are very troublesome in the woods . . . This muggy evening I see fireflies, the first I have seen or heard of at least. June 7, 1854 

June 7. Fireflies pretty numerous over the river, though we have had no thunder-showers of late.  Mosquitoes quite troublesome here. June 7, 1858

June 8. See lightning-bugs to-night. June 8, 1859

June 11. When I get away from the town and deeper into the night, I hear whip-poor-wills, and see fireflies in the meadow. June 11, 1851 

Away from the town

and deeper into the night –

whip-poor-wills, fireflies.

June 11, 1851

June 13. A few fireflies in the meadow. Do they shine, though invisibly, by day? Is their candle lighted by day? June 13, 1851

June 14.  Where there was only one firefly in a dozen rods, I hastily ran to one which had crawled up to the top of a grass head and exhibited its light, and instantly another sailed in to it , showing its light also; but my presence made them extinguish their lights. The latter retreated, and the former crawled slowly down the stem. It appeared to me that the first was a female who thus revealed her place to the male, who was also making known his neighborhood as he hovered about, both showing their lights that they might come together. It was like a mistress who had climbed to the turrets of her castle and exhibited there a blazing taper for a signal, while her lover had displayed his light on the plain. If perchance she might have any lovers abroad. June 14, 1851

June 15.  It is candle light. The fishes leap. The meadows sparkle with the coppery light of fireflies . June 15, 1852

June 16. Heat lightning in the horizon. A sultry night. A flute from some villager. How rare among men so fit a thing as the sound of a flute at evening! Have not the fireflies in the meadow relation to the stars above, étincelant?  When the darkness comes, we see stars beneath also  . . . Do not the stars, too, show their light for love, like the fireflies? There are northern lights, shooting high up withal. June 16, 1852

When the darkness comes

do not the stars like fireflies

show their light for love?

June 16, 1852

June 16. The meadows full of lightning-bugs to-night; first seen the 14th. June 16, 1860 

June 16. It appears to me that these phenomena occur simultaneously, say June 12th, viz.: - • Heat about. 85° at 2 P.M.• Hylodes cease to peep.• Purring frogs (Rana palustris) cease.• Lightning-bugs first seen.• Bullfrogs trump generally.• Mosquitoes begin to be really troublesome.• Afternoon thunder-showers almost regular.• Sleep with open window.• Turtles fairly and generally begun to lay. June 16, 1860 

June 17. In the damp, warm evening after the rain, the fireflies appear to be more numerous than ever. June 17, 1852 

June 22. The fireflies in the meadows are very numerous, as if they had replenished their lights from the lightning. June 22, 1852 

June 25.  The fireflies appear to be flying, though they may be stationary on the grass stems, for their perch and the nearness of the ground are obscured by the darkness, and now you see one here and then another there, as if it were one in motion. Their light is singularly bright and glowing to proceed from a living creature. Nature loves variety in all things, and so she adds glow-worms to fireflies, though I have not noticed any this year.  June 25, 1852

You see one here and

another there as if  it

were one in motion.

June 25, 1852

June 25.  What were the firefly's light, if it were not for darkness? The one implies the other. June 25, 1852 

 Why the firefly's light, 

if it were not for darkness? 

One implies the other.  

June 25, 1852

June 30. It is starlight about half an hour after sunset to-night; i. e. the first stars appear . . . Ten or fifteen minutes after, the fireflies are observed, at first about the willows on the Causeway, where the evening is further advanced. June 30, 1852

July 12. Here and there a lightning-bug shows his greenish light over the tops of the trees. July 12, 1851

July 20.   The stars are few and distant; the fireflies fewer still.   July 20, 1852 

July 20. There are a few fireflies about. Green, their light looks sometimes, and crickets are heard. July 20, 1853

August 2.  A few fireflies in the meadows. I am uncertain whether that so large and bright and high was a firefly or a shooting star. Shooting stars are but fireflies of the firmament. August 2, 1854 

August 5.  I see a solitary firefly over the woods.  August 5, 1851

August 8. The fireflies are not so numerous as they have been . August 8, 1851

August 21.  A few fireflies still at night. August 21, 1860

September 3.  See no fireflies.  September 3, 1852

September 7. One or two fireflies. September 7, 1851

September 8.  Perhaps it will be found that when the grass ceases to be fresh and green, or after June, the birds have ceased to sing, and that the fireflies, too, no longer in myriads sparkle in the meadows.  September 8, 1851

See also

 A Book of the Seasons , by Henry Thoreau, June Days

Magically at dusk

the woods fill with fireflies and

the flute of the thrush.

zphx July 29, 2013

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Fireflies, winged sparks of fire!

 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 © 2009-2025

A Book of the Seasons: The Eastern Kingbird

 For the first time I perceive this spring

that the year is a circle.  

I would make a chart of our life,

know why just this circle of creatures completes the world.

Henry Thoreau, April 18, 1852

Are these not kingbird days,

when, in clearer first June days full of light,

this aerial, twittering bird flutters from willow to willow

and swings on the twigs,

showing his white-edged tail?

June 2, 1854

That aerial and spirited bird

loves best, methinks,

to fly where the sky is reflected beneath him.

  August 5, 1858

May 9.  Kingbird. May 9, 1857

May 10.   See a kingbird, looking like a large phoebe, on a willow by the river, and hear higher the clear whistle of the oriole. New days, then, have come, ushered in by the warbling vireo, yellowbird, Maryland yellow-throat, and small pewee, and now made perfect by the twittering of the kingbird and the whistle of the oriole amid the elms . . .  if not already the bobolink. May 10, 1853  

May 10.  It is remarkable that I saw this morning for the first time the bobolink, gold robin, and kingbird, - May 10, 1853

May 11.  I see the kingbird. May 11, 1854

May 11.  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. May 11, 1854

May 12. Is not this the first day of summer, when first I sit with the window open and forget fire? and hear the golden robin and kingbird, etc., etc.? not to mention the bobolink, vireo, yellowbird, etc., and the trump of bullfrogs heard last evening. May 12, 1854

May 14.  First kingbird. Its voice and flight relate it to the swallow. May 14, 1852 

May 14.  The still dead-looking willows and button-bushes are alive with red-wings . . .The yellowbird, kingbird, and pewee, beside many swallows, are also seen. But the rich colors and the rich and varied notes of the blackbirds surpass them all. May 14, 1853

May 14.  A kingbird.  May 14, 1858

May 16.  Hear a bobolink and kingbird, and find sparrows' nests on the ground. May 16, 1859

May 17.  Kingbird.  May 17, 1856

May 29. How still the hot noon; people have retired behind blinds. Yet the kingbird — lively bird, with white belly and tail edged with white, and with its lively twittering— stirs and keeps the air brisk. May 29, 1853

June 2. Are these not kingbird days, when, in clearer first June days full of light, this aerial, twittering bird flutters from willow to willow and swings on the twigs, showing his white-edged tail? June 2, 1854

June 2. Bats go over, and a kingbird, very late. June 2, 1860

June 3.  A very warm day, without a breeze. A kingbird's nest in a fork of a black willow. June 3, 1854 

June 5. I see at a distance a kingbird or blackbird pursuing a crow lower down the hill, like a satellite revolving about a black planet.  June 5, 1854

June 5.  The Muscicapa Cooperi sings pe pe pe', sitting on the top of a pine, and shows white rump ( ? ) , etc. , unlike kingbird. June 5, 1856 

June 6.  A kingbird's nest, with two of its large handsome eggs, very loosely set over the fork of a horizontal willow by river, with dried everlasting of last year, as usual, just below Garfield's boat. Another in black willow south of long cove (east side, north of Hubbard's Grove) and another north of said cove.   June 6, 1857 

June 6.  As the light is obscured after sunset, the birds rapidly cease their songs, and the swallows cease to flit over the river. And soon the bats are seen taking the places of the swallows and flying back and forth like them, and commonly a late kingbird will be heard twittering still in the air.  June 6, 1860

June 7.  What does it signify, the kingbird, black bird, swallow, etc., etc., pursuing a crow? June 7, 1858 

June 7.  It is evidence enough against crows and hawks and owls, proving their propensity to rob birds’ nests of eggs and young, that smaller birds pursue them so often. You do not need the testimony of so many farmers' boys when you can see and hear the small birds daily crying “Thief and murder” after these spoilers.  June 7, 1858 

June 8.  A kingbird’s nest on a black cherry, above Barbarea Shore. loosely constructed, with some long white rags dangling; one egg. June 8, 1856 

June 8.   The marsh hawk's eggs are not yet hatched. She rises when I get within a rod and . . . keeps circling over the nest and repeatedly stoops within a rod of my head in an angry manner.  . . . A red-wing and a kingbird are soon in pursuit of the hawk, which proves, I think, that she meddles with their nests or themselves.  She circles over me, scolding, as far as the edge of the wood, or fifteen rods. June 8, 1858

June 8.    A kingbird's nest with three eggs, lined with some hair, in a fork — or against upright part — of a willow, just above near stone bridge. June 8, 1858 

Kingbird's nest with eggs

in a fork of a willow

above near stone bridge.

June 8, 1858

June 9.   I have come with a spy-glass to look at the hawks.  . . . Now and then pursued by a kingbird or a blackbird, who appear merely to annoy it by dashing down at its back. June 9, 1853

June 9.  A kingbird's nest and one egg.  June 9, 1860

June 11.  See many small blue devil's-needles to-day, but no mates with them, and is it not they that the kingbird stoops to snap up, striking the water each time?  June 11, 1860 

June 13.    The kingbird's eggs are not yet hatched. June 13, 1854

June 13.  Two kingbirds’ nests with eggs in an apple and in a willow by riverside.  June 13, 1855

June 14.  A kingbird’s nest with four eggs on a large horizontal stem or trunk of a black willow, four feet high, over the edge of the river, amid small shoots from the willow; outside of mikania, roots, and knotty sedge, well lined with root fibres and wiry weeds. June 14, 1855 

June 16.  Examined a kingbird’s nest found before (13th) in a black willow over edge of river, four feet from ground. Two eggs. West of oak in Hubbard’s meadow. June 16, 1855 

June 24.  A kingbird’s nest just completed in an apple tree. June 24, 1856 

July 5.  Borrowed Witherell’s boat and paddled over Loring’s Pond. A kingbird’s nest in fork of a button—bush five feet high on shore (not saddled on); three young just hatched and one egg.  July 5, 1856 

July 9. Paddle up river and sound a little above Fair Haven Pond. See young kingbirds which have lately flown perched in a family on the willows, — the airy bird, lively, twittering. July 9, 1859

July 10.  Kingbird lively. July 10, 1854

July 10.  Hearing a noise, I look up and see a pigeon woodpecker pursued by a kingbird, and the former utters loud shrieks with fear. July 10, 1859

July 10. See many young birds now, —  blackbirds, swallows, kingbirds, etc., in the air. July 10, 1859

July 10. The singing birds at present are: —Rural: Song sparrow, seringos, flicker, kingbird, goldfinch, link of bobolink, cherry-bird. July 10, 1854

July 17. The birds are quite lively at this hour of noon, — the robin, red - eye, wood pewee  martins, and kingbirds, etc. July 17, 1854

July 18.  5 A. M.  Whence these fogs and this increase of moisture in the air? The kingbird, song sparrows, and quail are lively. July 18, 1854

July 28. P. M. – Up Assabet. The kingbirds eat currants.  July 28, 1859

August 1.  I see a kingbird hovering within six inches above the potamogetons, front of Cheney's, and repeatedly snapping up some insects, perhaps a devil's-needle. [Often afterward for weeks; stoops from the willows]  August 1, 1859

August 5.  [Black willows] resound still with the sprightly twitter of the kingbird, that aerial and spirited bird hovering over them, swallow-like, which loves best, methinks, to fly where the sky is reflected beneath him. Also now from time to time you hear the chattering of young blackbirds or the link of bobolinks there, or see the great bittem flap slowly away.  The kingbird, by his activity and lively note and his white breast, keeps the air sweet. He sits now on a dead willow twig, akin to the flecks of mackerel sky, or its reflection in the water, or the white clamshell, wrong side out, opened by a musquash, or the fine particles of white quartz that may be found in the muddy river’s sand.  He is here to give a voice to all these.  The willow’s dead twig is aerial perch enough for him.  August 5, 1858

His activity

and lively note and his white

breast keeps the air sweet.

  August 5, 1858

August 6.  If our sluggish river, choked with potamogeton, might seem to have the slow-flying bittern for its peculiar genius, it has also the sprightly and aerial kingbird to twitter over and lift our thoughts to clouds as white as its own breast  August 6, 1858 

August 7.  The sprightly kingbird glances and twitters above the glossy leaves of the swamp white oak. Perchance this tree, with its leaves glossy above and whitish beneath, best expresses the life of the kingbird and is its own tree. August 7, 1858

The sprightly kingbird

twitters above glossy leaves

of the swamp white oak.

August 7, 1858

August 12.  It is surprising how young birds, especially sparrows of all kinds, abound now, and bobolinks and wood pewees and kingbirds.  August12, 1858

August 14.  To speak from recollection, the birds which I have chanced to hear of late are (running over the whole list):  . . .The twitter of the kingbird, pretty often.  August 14, 1858

August 17.  Some days ago I saw a kingbird twice stoop to the water from an overhanging oak and pick an insect from the surface.  August 17, 1858

August 19.  Flocks of bobolinks go tinkling along about the low willows, and swallows twitter, and a kingbird hovers almost stationary in the air, a foot above the water.  August 19, 1853

August 23.  I see to-day — and may add to yesterday's list — the blue heron launch off from an oak by the river and flap or sail away with lumbering flight; also kingbirds and crows. August 23, 1853

August 29.  Many birds nowadays resort to the wild black cherry tree, as here front of Tarbell's. I see them continually coming and going directly from and to a great distance, — cherry birds, robins, and kingbirds. August 29, 1854 

September 1.  Now see many birds about E. Hubbard's elder hedge, —  bobolinks, kingbirds, pigeon woodpeckers, — and not elsewhere. September 1, 1860

December 22. In a (apparently kingbird's?) nest on this island I saw three cherry-stones, as if it had carried home this fruit to its young. It was, outside, of gnaphalium and saddled on a low limb. Could it have been a cherry-bird? December 22. 1859

See also

 A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Olive-sided flycatcher or pe-pe

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Eastern Kingbird

 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 © 2009-2025