February belongs to the spring.

February 9.

February 9, 2019

It has cleared off very pleasant and is still quite warm. 

Some of these thaws succeed suddenly to intensely cold weather, and the sky that was tense like a bow that is bent is now relaxed.  

There is a peculiar softness and luminousness in the air this morning, perhaps the light being diffused by vapor. It is such a warm, moist, or softened, sunlit air as we are wont to hear the first bluebird's warble in. 

And the brightness of the morning is increased tenfold by the sun reflected from broad sheets of rain and melted snow water. The sun is reflected from a hundred rippling sluices of snow-water finding its level in the fields. 

The voices of the school-children sound like spring. 

The jays are more lively than usual. 

There are snow-fleas, quite active, on the half-melted snow on the middle of Walden. 

The hollows about Walden, still bottomed with snow, are filled with greenish water like its own.  

I do not hear Therien's axe far of late. The moment I came on his chopping-ground, the chickadees flew to me, as if glad to see me. They are a peculiarly honest and sociable little bird. I saw them go to his pail repeatedly and peck his bread and butter. They came and went a dozen times while I stood there. He said that a great flock of them came round him the other day while he was eating his dinner and lit on his clothes “just like flies.” One roosted on his finger, and another pecked a piece of bread in his hand. They are considerable company for the woodchopper. I heard one wiry phe-be. They love to hop about wood freshly split. Apparently they do not leave his clearing all day. They were not scared when he threw down wood within a few feet of them. When I looked to see how much of his bread and butter they had eaten, I did not perceive that any was gone. He could afford to dine a hundred.

I do not find any willow catkins started, though many have lost their scales. I have brought home some alder and sweet-gale and put them in water. The black birch has a slender sharp bud, much like the shad bush. 

I have seen two red squirrels and heard a third since the snow covered the ground. I have seen one gray one, but traces of many. 

February 9, 2019

Is not January alone pure winter? December belongs to the fall; is a wintry November: February, to the spring; it is a snowy March. 

The water was several inches deep in the road last evening, but it has run nearly dry by morning. 

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, February 9, 1854

There is a peculiar softness and luminousness in the air this morning . See February 8, 1860 ("There is a peculiarity in the air when the temperature is thus high and the weather fair, at this season,"); February 12, 1856 ("How different the sunlight over thawing snow from the same over dry, frozen snow! The former excites me strangely, and I experience a springlike melting in my thoughts.")

There are snow-fleas, quite active, on the half-melted snow on the middle of Walden.  See January 30, 1860 ("he snow-flea seems to be a creature whose summer and prime of life is a thaw in the winter. It seems not merely to enjoy this interval like other animals, but then chiefly to exist. It is the creature of the thaw. Moist snow is its element.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Snow-flea

The hollows about Walden, still bottomed with snow, are filled with greenish water like its own. See Febrruary 14, 1854 ("I perceive that some of these pools by the Walden road which on the 9th looked so green have frozen blue.")

The chickadees flew to me, as if glad to see me.  They are a peculiarly honest and sociable little bird . . . They are considerable company for the woodchopper.  See December 1, 1853 ("They are our most honest and innocent little bird, drawing yet nearer to us as the winter advances, and deserve best of any of the walker."); December  23, 1845 ("Therien, the woodchopper, was here yesterday, and while I was cutting wood, some chickadees hopped near pecking the bark and chips and the potato-skins I had thrown out. "What do you call them," he asked. I told him."What do you call them," asked I. "Mezezence[?]," I think he said. "When I eat my dinner in the woods," said he, "sitting very still, having kindled a fire to warm my coffee, they come and light on my arm and peck at the potato in my fingers. I like to have the little fellers about me." Just then one flew up from the snow and perched on the wood I was holding in my arms, and pecked it, and looked me familiarly in the face. Chicadee-dee-dee-dee-dee, while others were whistling phebe,—phe-bee,—in the woods behind the house.")  See also J. J. Audubon ("The sound of an axe in the woods is sufficient to bring forth several of these busy creatures, and having discovered the woodman, they seem to find pleasure in his company. If, as is usually the case, he is provided with a dinner, the Chickadee at once evinces its anxiety to partake of it, and loses no opportunity of accomplishing its object."); Walden ("In the winter he had a fire by which at noon he warmed his coffee in a kettle; and as he sat on a log to eat his dinner the chickadees would sometimes come round and alight on his arm and peck at the potato in his fingers; and he said that he “liked to have the little fellers about him.");  and A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Chickadee in Winter

February belongs to the spring. See February 2, 1854 ("Is not January the hardest month to get through? When you have weathered that, you get into the gulfstream of winter, nearer the shores of spring."); February 2, 1854 ("Already we begin to anticipate spring, and this is an important difference between this time and a month ago. We begin to say that the day is springlike"); February 8, 1860 ("February may be called earine (springlike)") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, February Belongs to Spring

I do not hear Therien's axe far of late. See November 15, 1851 ("Asked Therien this afternoon if he had got a new idea this summer."); December 24, 1853 ("Saw Therien yesterday afternoon chopping for Jacob Baker in the rain. I heard his axe half a mile off, and also saw the smoke of his fire,"); December 29, 1853 ("I asked Therien yesterday if he was satisfied with himself. I was trying to get a point d'appui within him, a shelf to spring an arch from, to suggest some employment and aim for life."); February 9, 1854 (""); February 5, 1855 ("Found Therien cutting down the two largest chestnuts in the wood-lot behind where my house was. On the butt of one about two feet in diameter I count seventy-five rings. T. soon after breaks his axe in cutting through a knot in this tree, which he is cutting up for posts. He broke out a piece half an inch deep. This he says often happens. Perhaps there is some frost in his axe. Several choppers have broken their axes to-day.")

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

High wind in the night and now, the rain being over. Does it not usually follow rain-storms at this season, to dry up the water? 

It has cleared off very pleasant and is still quite warm. 

9 A. M. To Pine Hill. Some of these thaws succeed suddenly to intensely cold weather, and the sky that was tense like a bow that is bent is now relaxed. There is a peculiar softness and luminousness in the air this morning, perhaps the light being diffused by vapor. 

It is such a warm, moist, or softened, sunlit air as we are wont to hear the first bluebird's warble in.  

And the brightness of the morning is increased tenfold by the sun reflected from broad sheets of rain and melted snow water, and also, in a peculiar manner, from the snow on the sides of the Deep Cut . The crowing of cocks and the voices of the school-children sound like spring. I hear the sound of the horses' feet on the bared ice dred rippling sluices of snow-water finding its level in the fields. 

Are not both sound and light condensed or contracted by cold? The jays are more lively than usual. That lichen with a white elastic thread for core is like a tuft of hair on the trees, sometimes springing from the centre of another, larger , flat lichen . ) There are snow - fleas , quite active , on the half - melted snow on the middle of Walden . 

I do not hear Therien's axe far of late . The moment I came on his chopping - ground , the chickadees flew to me , as if glad to see me . They are a peculiarly honest and sociable little bird . I saw them go to his , pail repeatedly and peck his bread and butter . They came and went a dozen times while I stood there . He said that a great flock of them came round him the other day while he was eating his dinner and lit on his clothes “ just like flies . ” One roosted on his finger , and another pecked a piece of bread in his hand . They are considerable company for the woodchopper . I heard one wiry phe - be . They love to hop about wood freshly split . Apparently they do not leave his clearing all day . They were not scared when he threw down wood within a few feet of them . When I looked to see how much of his bread and butter they had eaten , I did not perceive that any was gone . He could afford to dine a hundred. 

I see some chestnut sprouts with leaves on them still. 

The hollows about Walden, still bottomed with snow, are filled with greenish water like its own  

I do not find any willow catkins started, though many have lost their scales. 

I have brought home some alder and sweet-gale and put them in water. 

The black birch has a slender sharp bud, much like the shad bush. 

In Stow's meadow by railroad causeway, saw many dusky flesh-colored, transparent worms, about five eighths of an inch long, in and upon the snow, crawling about.  These, too, must be food for birds. 

I have seen two red squirrels and heard a third since the snow covered the ground. I have seen one gray one, but traces of many. ...

Is not January alone pure winter? December belongs to the fall; is a wintry November: February, to the spring; it is a snowy March. 

The water was several inches deep in the road last evening , but it has run nearly dry by morning . 

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

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