Aug 31

Trade very good. George came in from Malden. Mr. Bliss went to Gloucester today.

EDK, August 31, 1860

Surveying Minott's land.

August 30.

Am surprised to find on Minott's hard land, where he once raised potatoes, the hairy huckleberry, which before I had seen in swamps only. The berries are in longer racemes or clusters than any of our huckleberries. They are improved, you would say, by the firmer ground. They are the prevailing berry all over this field. Are now in prime.

The hairy huckleberry I think, grow here still because Minott is an old-fashioned man and has not scrubbed up and improved his land as many, or most, have. It is in a wilder and more primitive condition. 

There was only one straight side to his land, and that I cut through a dense swamp. The fences are all meandering, just as they were at least in 1746, when it was described.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal,  August 30, 1860

Aug 30

Rec'd from T B Collins 22.00 dollars in full for bill of July 24.

EDK, August 30, 1860

A green blaze on Walden

August 28

About 6:30 P.M. paddle on Walden.

The sky is  completely overcast.  

I am in the shade of the woods when, just before setting, the sun comes out into a clear space in the horizon and a sudden blaze of light falls on east end of the pond and the hillside.

At this angle a double amount of bright sunlight reflects from the water up to the underside of  the still very fresh green leaves of the bushes and trees on the shore and on Pine Hill, revealing the most vivid and varied shades of green. I never saw such a green glow before.  

It is a wonderful contrast with the previous and still surrounding darkness.

When the sun falls lower, and the sunlight no longer fell on the pond, the green blaze of the hillside at once  diminishes, because the light no longer reflects upward to it. 

August 28, 2014

At sunset the air over the pond is 62 + ; the water at the top, 74°; poured from a stoppled bottle which lay at the bottom where one hundred feet deep, twenty or thirty minutes, 55° (and the same when drawn up in an open bottle which lay five minutes at the bottom); in an open bottle drawn up from about fifty feet depth (there) or more, after staying there five minutes, 63°. This about half the whole difference between the top and bottom, so that the temperature seems to fall regularly as you descend, at the rate of about one degree to five feet. When I let the stoppled bottle down quickly, the cork was forced out before it got to the bottom, when [ ? ] the water drawn up stood at 66°. Hence it seemed to be owing to the rising of the warmer water and air in the bottle. Five minutes with the open bottle at the bottom was as good as twenty with it stoppled. I found it 2° warmer than the 24th, though the air was then 4° warmer than now.

Possibly, comparing one day with the next, it is warmer at the bottom in a cold day and colder in a warm day, because when the surface is cooled it mixes more with the bottom, while the average temperature is very slightly changed.

The Lycopodium inundatum common by Harrington's mud-hole, Ministerial Swamp.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, August 28, 1860

A sudden blaze of light falls on east end of the pond and the hillside. See September 3, 1860 ("The dense fresh green grass which has sprung up since it was mowed reflects a blaze of light, as if it were morning all the day.”); September 27, 1855 ("I see a blaze of red reflected from the troubled water.”); September 13, 1852 ("At this season, a golden blaze salutes me here from a thousand suns.”)

The Lycopodium inundatum common by Harrington's mud-hole, Ministerial Swamp. See August 26, 1859 ("A new plant, apparently Lycopodium inundatum, Hubbard's meadow-side.") See also 
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Lycopodiums

August 28. See A Book of the Seasons, August 28

The sky overcast –

a sudden vivid green blaze

of reflected light.

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, A green blaze on Walden

 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

https://www.tinyurl.com/greenblaze

To Ministerial Swamp.

August 27.

Clear weather within a day or two after the thick dog-days. The nights have been cooler of late, but the heat of the sun by day has been more local and palpable.

See one of the shrilling green alder locusts on the under side of a grape leaf. Its body is about three quarters of an inch or less in length; antennae and all, two inches. Its wings are at first perpendicular above its shoulders, it apparently having just ceased shrilling, transparent, with lines crossing them.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, August 27, 1860

One of the shrilling green alder locusts on the under side of a grape leaf. See August 21, 1853 ("Saw one of those light-green locusts about three quarters of an inch long on a currant leaf in the garden. "); August 23, 1856 ("On this Lespedeza Stuvei, a green locust an inch and three quarters long"); September 6, 1857 ("I see one of those peculiarly green locusts with long and slender legs on a grass stem, which are often concealed by their color.")

Aug 27

Bought a hat for which I had to pay 1.50. Last concert on the common tonight.

EDK, August 27, 1860

Aug 26

Little son of Wm. Williams was born. Paid J Adams for Board 3.00. Attended church at [] St. all day. Called on Col. & Ed Fay at the Quincy House.

EDK, August 26, 1860

Autumn tastes and sounds

August 26.

The shrilling of the alder locust is the solder that welds these autumn days together.

I thread my way through the blueberry swamp in front of Martial Miles's. The high blueberries far above my head in the shade of the swamp retain their freshness and coolness a long time. Little blue sacks full of swampy nectar and ambrosia commingled. And now a far greater show of choke-berries is here, rich to see.

I press my way through endless thickets of these berries, their lower leaves now fast reddening. All bushes resound with the song of the alder locust; I wade up to my ears in it.

Methinks the burden of their song is the countless harvests of the year, - berries, grain, and other fruits.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, August 26, 1860

I thread my way through the blueberry swamp in front of Martial Miles's.. .. Now a far greater show of choke-berries is here, rich to see. See July 30, 1860 ("Am glad to press my way through Miles's Swamp. Thickets of choke-berry bushes higher than my head, with many of their lower leaves already red"); August 5, 1852 ("How wildly rich and beautiful hang on high there the blueberries which might so easily be poisonous, the cool blue clusters high in air. Choke-berries, fair to the eye but scarcely palatable, hang far above your head, weighing down the bushes. The wild holly berry, perhaps the most beautiful of berries, hanging by slender threads from its more light and open bushes and more delicate leaves. The bushes, eight feet high, are black with choke-berries, and there are no wild animals to eat them. ")

To Clamshell.

August 25.

See a large hen-hawk sailing over Hubbard's meadow and Clamshell, soaring very high and toward the north. At last it returns southward, at that height impelling itself steadily and swiftly forward, with its wings set without apparent motion, it thus moves half a mile directly.

As I row by, see a green bittern nearby standing erect on Monroe's boat. Finding that it is observed, it draws in its head and stoops to conceal itself. It allows me to approach so near, apparently being deceived by some tame ducks there. When it flies it seems to have no tail.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, August 25, 1860

A large hen-hawk sailing over Hubbard's meadow and Clamshell, soaring very high . . .See August 24, 1854 ("Now, methinks, hawks are decidedly more common, beating the bush and soaring. I see two circling over the Cliffs.")

As I row by, see a green bittern nearby standing erect on Monroe's boat. . . . When it flies it seems to have no tail. See August 25, 1852("The great bittern is still about, but silent and shy.") and note to July 30, 1856 ("a green bittern crosses in my rear with heavy flapping flight, its legs dangling, not observing me. It looks deep slate-blue above, yellow legs, whitish streak along throat and breast, and slowly plows the air with its prominent breast-bone, like the stake-driver."

Aug 25

Stayed with Charles on Beadford St.

EDK, August 25, 1860

To Walden to get its temperature.

August 24

This and yesterday very foggy, dogdayish days. Yesterday the fog lasted till nine or ten, and to-day, in the afternoon, it amounts to a considerable drizzling rain. 

P. M. - To Walden to get its temperature. 

The air is only 66°; the water at top, 75°. What I had sunk to the bottom in the middle, a hundred feet deep by my line, left there half an hour, then pulled up and poured into a quart dipper, stood at 53°. 

It appears the bottom of Walden has, in fact, the temperature of a genuine and cold spring. It probably is of the same temperature with the average mean temperature of the earth, and, I suspect, the same all the year. This shows that springs need not come from a very great depth in order to be cold, and that Walden must be included among the springs.

As it has no outlet, Walden is a well, rather. It is not a superficial pond, not in the mere skin of the earth. It goes deeper. It reaches down to where the temperature of the earth is unchanging. 

What various temperatures the fishes of this pond can enjoy! They require no other refrigerator than their deeps afford. They can in a few moments sink to winter or rise to summer. The few trout must oftenest go down below in summer. How much this varied temperature must have to do with the distribution of the fishes in it!

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, August 24, 1860

What various temperatures the fishes of this pond can enjoy! See January 11, 1856 ("It is commonly said that fishes are long-lived on account of the equable temperature of their element. The temperature of the body of Walden may perhaps range from 85° - perhaps at bottom much less - down to 32°, or 53°, while that of the air ranges from 100° down to - 28°, or 128°, more than twice as much.")

Coming to the window, August 23, 1852

August 23.

The perception of surfaces will always have the effect of miracle.

Now I sit on the Cliffs and look abroad over the river and Conantum hills.

I live so much in my habitual routine of thoughts, that I forget there is any outside to the globe and am surprised when I behold it as now, - yonder hills and river in the moonlight, the monsters. 

What are these rivers and hills, these hieroglyphics which my eyes behold?

There is something invigorating in this air, which I am peculiarly sensible is a real wind blowing from over the surface of a planet. 

I look out at my eyes, I come to my window, and I feel and breathe the fresh air. It is a fact equally glorious with the most inward experience.

I can see Nobscot faintly.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, August 23, 1852

What are these rivers and hills, these hieroglyphics which my eyes behold? See November 21, 1850 ("What are these things?")


How adapted these forms and colors to my eye! A meadow and an island! I am made to love the pond and the meadow, as the wind is made to ripple the water.")

I am peculiarly sensible is a real wind blowing from over the surface of a planet. I look out at my eyes, I come to my window, and I feel and breathe the fresh air. See The Maine Woods ("daily to be shown matter, to come in contact with it-rocks, trees, wind on our cheeks! the solid earth! the actual world! the common sense! Contact! Contact! Who are we? where are we?”)


About 8 p.m.- To Cliffs, moon half full. 

As I go up the back road, I hear the loud ringing creak of crickets, louder singers on each apple tree by the roadside, with an intermittent pulsing creak. Not the sound of a bird all the way to the woods.

How dark the shadows of the pines and oaks fall across the woodland path! There is a new tree, another forest in the shadow. It is pleasant walking in these forest paths, with heavy darkness on one side and a silvery moonlight on the oak leaves on the other, and again, when the trees meet overhead, to tread the checkered floor of finely divided light and shade. 

I hear a faint metallic titter from a bird, so faint that if uttered at noonday it would not be heard, — not so loud as a cricket. I cannot remember the last moon. Now that birds and flowers fall off, fruits take their places, and young birds in flocks. 

What a list of bright-colored, sometimes venomous-looking berries spot the swamps and copses amid changing leaves! For colors they will surpass the flowers, methinks. There is some thing rare, precious, and gem-like about them. Now is their time, and I must attend to them. Some, like grapes, we gather and eat, but the fairest are not edible. 

Now I sit on the Cliffs and look abroad over the river and Conantum hills. I live so much in my habitual thoughts, a routine of thought, that I forget there is any outside to the globe, and am surprised when I behold it as now, — yonder hills and river in the moon light, the monsters. Yet it is salutary to deal with the surface of things. What are these rivers and hills, these hieroglyphics which my eyes behold ? There is some thing invigorating in this air, which I am peculiarly sensible is a real wind, blowing from over the surface of a planet. I look out at my eyes, I come to my window, and I feel and breathe the fresh air. It is a fact equally glorious with the most inward experience. Why have we ever slandered the outward? The perception of surfaces will always have the effect of miracle to a sane sense. I can see Nobscot faintly. 

Descend the rocks and return through woods to railroad. How picturesque the moonlight on rocks in the woods! To-night there are no fireflies, no nighthawks nor whip-poor-wills.

Aug 24

Wrote to Laura concerning a school.

EDK, August 24, 1860

Row to Bittern Cliff

August 22.

P. M. – Row to Bittern Cliff. 

Now when the mikania is conspicuous, the bank is past prime, - for lilies are far gone, the pontederia is past prime, willows and button- bushes begin to look the worse for the wear thus early, — the lower or older leaves of the willows are turned yellow and decaying , — and many of the meadows are shorn. Yet now is the time for the cardinal-flower. The already methinks, yellowing willows and button - bushes, the half- shorn meadows, the higher water on their edges , with wool-grass standing over it, with the notes of flitting bobolinks and red wings of this year, in rustling flocks, all tell of the fall.

***

I never find a remarkable Indian relic but I have first divined its existence, and planned the discovery of it. Frequently I have told myself distinctly what it was to be before I found it.  

Returning down the river from Bittern Cliff, I find myself inevitably exploring where the recent heavy rains have washed away the bank.

I find several pieces of Indian pottery with a rude ornament on it, not much more red than the earth itself. Looking farther, I find more fragments, which have been washed down the sandy slope in a stream.

Under a layer of shells I find in a hollowness in the ground many small pieces of bone in the soil of this bank, probably of animals the Indians ate.

In the midst of a another exposed heap of shells I find a delicate stone tool made of a soft slate-stone. Very thin and sharp on each side edge, in the middle it is is not more than an eighth of an inch thick. I suspect that this was used to open clams.

It is curious that I had expected to find as much as this, and in this very spot too, before i reached it.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, August 22, 1860

It is curious that I had expected to find as much as this, and in this very spot too, before i reached it. See February 13, 1851 (I saw to-day, half a mile off in Sudbury, a sandy spot on the top of a hill, where I prophesied that I should find traces of the Indians."); August 22, 1854 ("There is, no doubt, a particular season of the year when each place may be visited with most profit and pleasure, and it may be worth the while to consider what that season is in each case.") See also April 24, 1859 ("There is a season for everything, and we do not notice a given phenomenon except at that season,. . .. There is a time to watch the ripples on Ripple Lake, to look for arrowheads"); September 2, 1856; (" I make my most interesting botanical discoveries when I am in a thrilled and expectant mood,. . .”); February 4, 1858 (“It is a remarkable fact that, in the case of the most interesting plants which I have discovered in this vicinity, I have anticipated finding them perhaps a year before the discovery. ”);  and note to July 2, 1857 ("We find only the world we look for.")

Fireflies.

August 21

Soaking rains, and in the night. A few fireflies still at night.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, August 21, 1860

See also A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Fireflies

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

Aug 21

Paid for board 3.00. Went to the theatre to see the [].

EDK, August 21, 1860

last summer

People now talk of summer in the past tense. Overheard this morning on the street: "I had an interesting summer, but I can't remember what I did." 

Zphx, 20100820

Invasive species

August  19. 

Examine now more at length that smooth, turnip-scented brassica which is a pest in some grain-fields. Formerly in Stow’s land; this year in Warren’s, on the Walden road. To-day I see it in Minot Pratt’s, with the wild radish, which is a paler yellow and a rougher plant.

I thought it before the B. campestris, but for aught that appears, it agrees with B. Napus, closely allied, i. e. wild rape. Elliot speaks of this as introduced here.


H. D. Thoreau, Journal, August 19, 1860

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

Aug 19

Sunday. The latter part of the last week was cool and pleasant. Attended church in [] St. in the A. M.

EDK, August 19, 1860

The note of the Wood Pewee.

August 18.

The note of the wood pewee sounds prominent of late.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, August 18, 1860

See July 28, 1859 ("The sweet and plaintive note of the pewee is now prominent, since most other birds are more hushed. I hear young families of them answering each other from a considerable distance, especially about the river."); August 6, 1858 (“The note of the wood pewee is now more prominent, while birds generally are silent.”); August 9, 1856 ("The notes of the wood pewee and warbling vireo are more prominent of late, and of the goldfinch twittering over.”); August 12, 1858 ("The note of the wood pewee is a prominent and common one now. You see old and young together."); August 18, 1858 (“One appeared to answer the other, and sometimes they both sung together, — even as if the old were teaching her young. It was not the usual spring note of this bird, but a simple, clear pe-e-eet, rising steadily with one impulse to the end.”); August 20, 1854 ("Saw a wood pewee which had darted after an insect over the water in this position in the air: It often utters a continuous pe-e-e."); August 21, 1853 ("Methinks I have not heard a robin sing morning or evening of late, but the peawai still . . ."). See also J.J. Audubon ( "...at this season, their notes are heard at a very late hour, as in early spring. They may be expressed by the syllables pe-wee, pettowee, pe-wee, prolonged like the last sighs of a despondent lover, or rather like what you might imagine such sighs to be, it being, I believe, rare actually to hear them.")

Cooler nights.

August 17. 

We have cooler nights of late.

See at Pout’s Nest two solitary tattlers. They seem to like a muddier shore than the peetweet.

Hear a whip-poor-will sing to-night.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, August 17, 1860

Pout’s Nest:  HDT's name for Wyman's Meadow near Walden. See note to July 26, 1860 (I see a bream swimming about in that smaller pool by Walden in Hubbard's Wood. . . So they may be well off in the Wyman meadow or Pout's Nest.")

Postcard from Vermont

The suicide vest
hanging on the gallery wall
as art explodes.

Zphx 100817

Aug 15

Very cool and pleasant.

EDK, August 15, 1860

Fair weather.

August 15.

See a blue heron.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, August  15, 1860

See August 15, 1852 ("See a blue heron on the meadow.")  See also  August 12, 1853 ("See the blue herons opposite Fair Haven Hill, as if they had bred here."); April 14, 1859 ("You have not seen our weedy river, you do not know the significance of its weedy bars, until you have seen the blue heron wading and pluming itself on it"); August 19, 1858 ("The blue heron has within a week reappeared in our meadows") and A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Blue Heron

Aug.14.

August 14.

Heavy rain.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, August 14, 1860


See EDK August 14, 1860 ("Very rainy.") See also  August 25. 1852 ("One of those serious and normal storms ~ not a shower which you can see through, not a transient cloud that drops rain ~ something regular, a fall rain, coincident with a different mood or season of the mind. "); August 11, 1858 ("Now is our rainy season. It has rained half the days for ten days past"); August 13, 1858 ("You have had to consider each afternoon whether you must not take an umbrella."');l August 25, 1859 ("Copious rain at last, in the night and during the day. ");

Aug 14

Very rainy.

EDK, August 14, 1860

Aug 13

Rec'd from James Bliss $10.00 on account. Went to the concert on the common with Miss [].

EDK, August 13, 1860

To Gowing's Swamp.

August 13.


P. M. — To Great Meadows and Gowing's Swamp.

Purple grass (Eragrostis pectinacca), two or three days. E. capillaris, say as much. Andropogon scoparius, a day or two. Calamagrostis coarctata, not quite.

Glyceria obtusa, well out; say several days.

Some of the little cranberries at Gowing's Swamp appear to have been frost-bitten. Also the blue-eyed grass, which is now black-topped.

Hear the steady shrill of the alder locust.

Rain this forenoon. Windy in afternoon

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, August 13, 1860

Glyceria obtusa, well out. See September 2, 1858 (“That rich, close, erect-panicled grass of the meadows, apparently for a month in bloom.”)

The little cranberries at Gowing's Swamp . . . See August 30, 1856 (“I have come out this afternoon a-cranberrying, chiefly to gather some of the small cranberry . . . Better for me, says my genius, to go cranberrying this afternoon for the Vaccinium Oxycoccus in Gowing's Swamp, to get but a pocketful and learn its peculiar flavor, aye, and the flavor of Gowing's Swamp and of life in New England. . .”)

Hear the steady shrill of the alder locust. See August 10, 1853 ("Saw an alder locust this morning."); August 11, 1852 ("The autumnal ring of the alder locust."); August 12, 1858 (“Hear what I have called the alder locust (?) as I return over the causeway, and probably before this.”)

August 13. See A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, August 13.

Little cranberries 

at Gowing's Swamp  frost-bitten –

blue-eyed grass black-topped.

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

Aug 12

Sunday. At home all day. Wrote to Merritt. (Wash 1 Piece)

EDK, August 12, 1860

Monadnock pencil drawings

Aug 11

Saw Mr. Gamell of Lexington. Paid for Board 3.00.

EDK, August 11, 1860

Aug 10

C. M. Keyes called on me in the forenoon.

EDK, August 10, 1860

The local cloud of the mountain

 August 9.

Looking into the clear southwest sky not long after sundown, all at once a small cloud begins to form half a mile from the summit and rapidly grows in a mysterious manner till it drapes and conceals the summit above us for a few moments, then passes off and disappears northeastward just as it had come.

Watching these small clouds forming and dissolving about the summit of our mountain, I cast my eyes toward the dim bluish outline of the Green Mountains in the clear red evening sky, and, to my delight, I detect exactly over the summit of Saddleback Mountain, some sixty miles distant, its own little cloud shaped like a parasol and answering to that which caps ours.

There is no other cloud to be seen in that horizon. It is a beautiful and serene object, a sort of fortunate isle in the sunset sky, the local cloud of the mountain.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, August 9, 1860

I cast my eyes toward the dim bluish outline of the Green Mountains in the clear red evening sky. See August 6, 1860 ("These are the Green Mountains that we see, but there is no greenness, only a bluish mistiness; and all of Vermont is but a succession of parallel ranges of mountains.”)

Its own little cloud shaped like a parasol. See November 12, 1852 (“From Fair Haven Hill, I see a very distant, long, low dark-blue cloud in the northwest horizon beyond the mountains, and against this I see, apparently, a narrow white cloud resting on every mountain and conforming exactly to its outline”)

August 9. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, August 9

Dim bluish outline

of the Green Mountains in the

clear red evening sky.

The local cloud of the mountain

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

https://tinyurl.com/hdt-600809

Aug 9

Bot a pair of shoes for $1.25

Mr. James Emery Dr.

  to 20 Galls Rum @. 51         10.20

  " 1 keg                                1.25

  " carting                                .25

                                          11.70

  bot[?]                                 1.00

                                          12.70

  recd 12.00                         12.00

                                             .70

EDK, August 9, 1860

Aug 8

Bot ten galls of NE Rum for Mr. [K] for which I had to pay 5.22. Bot pair of hose .20 cents.

EDK, August 8, 1860

The localness of fogs

August 7.

I am struck by the localness of the fogs.

Every morning  I see more or less solid white fog on the earth, though none on the mountain.  For five mornings they occupy the same place and are about the same in extent. The fog lies several hundred feet thick, on the lower country only, in great spidery lakes and streams answering to the lakes, streams, and meadows beneath. Soon rising, the fog  breaks up, and drifts off, or rather seems to drift away as it evaporates.

If we awake into a fog it does not occur to us that the inhabitants of a neighboring town may have none. Yet, looking down thus on the country every morning, I see that this thick white veil of fog is spread here, and not there. Certain portions of New Hampshire and Massachusetts are at this season commonly invested with fog in the morning, while others are free from it. 

This morning a lifted fog as high as the Peterboro Hills, ever drifting easterly but making no progress, dissipates. Our mountain is above all.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, August 7, 1860

I am struck by the localness of the fogs. If we awake into a fog it does not occur to us that the inhabitants of a neighboring town may have none. Compare June 3, 1858 ("It was pleasant enough to see one man’s farm in the shadow of a cloud, — which perhaps he thought covered all the Northern States, — while his neighbor’s farm was in sunshine.”); November 30, 1858 ("Thus local is all storm, surrounded by serenity and beauty.”)

The fog lies . . . in great spidery lakes and streams answering to the lakes, streams, and meadows beneath. See June 3, 1853 ("Now I have reached the hill top above the fog at a quarter to five, about sunrise, and all around me is a sea of fog, level and white, reaching nearly to the top of this hill, only the tops of a few high hills appearing as distant islands in the main. It resembles nothing so much as the ocean."); July 25, 1852 ("The farmers that lie slumbering on this their day of rest, how little do they know of this stupendous pageant! Every valley is densely packed with the downy vapor.”); July 22, 1851 ("The season of morning fogs has arrived. A great crescent over the course of the river . . .”); 

For five mornings. Thoreau visited Monadnock on four occasions: a solo overnight on the summit in 1844, a quick day-hike in  September 1852, and more extended stays in 1858 and 1860: June 2, 1858,  June 3, 1858, and June 4, 1858; and  August 4 1860, August 5, 1860. August 6, 1860, August 7, 1860, August 8, 1860, and  August 9, 1860/ Also  Monadnock pencil drawings (1860)

Aug 7

Very warm indeed. Warmest day this year. Trade very good.

EDK, August 7, 1860

Vermont from Monadnock

August 6.

Evening is the most interesting season. When the sun is half an hour high I get sight, as it were accidentally, of an elysium beneath me. The smoky haze of the day gives place to a clear transparent enamel, through which houses, woods, farms, and lakes are seen indescribably fair. We distinguish the reflections of the woods perfectly in ponds three miles off. By the shadows, the landscape is shown to be not flat, but hilly.

But above all, from half an hour to two hours before sunset, many western mountain-ranges are revealed as the sun declines, one behind another, by their dark outlines and the intervening haze. The Connecticut Valley is one broad gulf of haze over which I count eight distinct ranges, revealed by the darker lines of the ridges rising successively higher as if a succession of terraces reaching as far as you can see from north to south.

These are the Green Mountains that we see, but there is no greenness, only a bluish mistiness; and all of Vermont is but a succession of parallel ranges of mountains.


H. D. Thoreau, Journal, August 6, 1860

We distinguish the reflections of the woods perfectly in ponds three miles off. See August 4, 1852 ("A pleasant time to behold a small lake in the woods . . . With its glassy reflecting surface , , ,more full of light than the regions of the air above it")

August 6. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, August 6

 

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