Sat with open window for a week.

October 31.

October 31, 2024

Rain; still warm. 

Ever since October 27th we have had remarkably warm and pleasant Indian summer, with frequent frosts in the morning. Sat with open window for a week.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, October 31, 1854

Ever since October 27th we have had remarkably warm and pleasant Indian summer. See October 31, 1858 ("It is a fine day, Indian-summer-like, and there is considerable gossamer on the causeway and blowing from all trees. ") See also October 21, 1855 ("I sit with an open window, it is so warm."); October 22, 1854 ("This and the last two days Indian-summer weather, following hard on that sprinkling of snow west of Concord. Pretty hard frosts these nights."); October 25, 1854 (" A beautiful, calm Indian-summer afternoon, the withered reeds on the brink reflected in the water. ") ; October 26, 1854 ("As warm as summer. Cannot wear a thick coat. Sit with windows open. ") and A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Indian Summer

Frosts in the mornings –

open window for a week.

Indian summer.

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Open window for a week.

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-541031

Peculiarly fresh scarlet

October 29.

October 29

Detected a large English cherry in Smith’s woods beyond Saw Mill Brook by the peculiar fresh orange-scarlet color of its leaves, now that almost all leaves are quite dull or withered. The same in gardens. The gooseberry leaves in our garden and in fields are equally and peculiarly fresh scarlet.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, October 29, 1854

Detected a large English cherry by the peculiar fresh orange-scarlet color of its leaves. See October 13, 1857 ("Our cherry trees have now turned to mostly a red orange color."); October 29, 1858 ("the cultivated cherry is quite handsome orange, often yellowish").See also September 30, 1854 (“I detect the sassafras by its peculiar orange scarlet half a mile distant. ”); September 28, 1854 ("The sassafras trees on the hill are now wholly a bright orange scarlet as seen from my window, and the small ones elsewhere are also changed.")

The reflected woods begin to look bare

October 28, 2014

October. 28

The woods begin to look bare, reflected in the water, and I look far in between the stems of the trees under the bank. 

Birches, which began to change and fall so early, are still in many places yellow.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, October 28, 1854

I look far in between the stems of the trees under the bank. See March 8, 1853 ("Instead of looking into the sky, I look into the placid reflecting water for the signs and promise of the morrow."); March 9, 1855 ("It occurred to me that the reason was that there was reflected to me from the river the view I should have got if I had stood there on the water in a more favorable position."); October 14, 1857 ("This, too, accounts for my seeing portions of the sky through the trees in reflections often when none appear in the substance."); October 17, 1858 (" Now, by the fall of the leaves, so much more light is let in to the water. The river reflects more light, therefore, in this twilight of the year, as it were an afterglow."). See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, by Henry Thoreau, Reflections

Birches, which began to change and fall so early. See August 11, 1858 ("The birches have lately lost a great many of their lower leaves, which now cover and yellow the ground."); August 13, 1854 ("I am surprised to behold how many birch leaves have turned yellow, — every other one, — while clear, fresh, leather-colored ones strew the ground with a pretty thick bed under each tree. "); October 22, 1858 ("Th birches have been steadily changing and falling for a long, long time. The lowermost leaves turn golden and fall first; so their autumn change is like a fire which has steadily burned up higher and higher, consuming the fuel below, till now it has nearly reached their tops. ")

Birches . . . are still in many places yellow. See October 22, 1855 ("I see at a distance the scattered birch-tops, like yellow flames amid the pines,"); October 26, 1860 ("This is the season of birch spangles, when you see afar a few clear-yellow leaves left on the tops of the birches.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Birches in Season

The reflected woods

begin to look bare – I look 

far between the trees.

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The reflected woods begin to look bare.

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/hdt28oct54

As the woods grow more silent

October 26

As warm as summer. Cannot wear a thick coat. Sit with windows open. 

I see considerable gossamer on the causeway and elsewhere. 

Is it the tree sparrows whose jingles I hear? 

October 26, 2022

As the weather grows cooler and the woods more silent, I attend to the cheerful notes of chickadees on their sunny sides. 

Apple trees are generally bare, as well as bass, ash, elm, maple.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, October 26, 1854

Cannot wear a thick coat. See October 21, 1856 ("A very warm Indian-summer day, too warm for a thick coat."); Compare October 25, 1858 ("This is the coolest day thus far, reminding me that I have only a half-thick coat on. "); October 26, 1858 ("I wear a thicker coat, my single thick fall coat, at last, and begin to feel my fingers cool early and late.")

Sit with windows open. See October 31, 1854 ("[W]e have had remarkably warm and pleasant Indian summer, with frequent frosts in the morning. Sat with open window for a week.") See also October 10, 1856 ("This afternoon it is 80°, . . . I lie with window wide open under a single sheet most of the night").;  October 21, 1855 ("I sit with an open window, it is so warm."); November 8, 1855 ("I can sit with my window open and no fire. Much warmer than this time last year.")

I see considerable gossamer. See October 31, 1858 ("It is a fine day, Indian-summer-like, and there is considerable gossamer on the causeway and blowing from all trees "); November 1, 1851 (" It is a remarkable day for fine gossamer cobwebs. Here in the causeway, as I walk toward the sun, I perceive that the air is full of them streaming from off the willows and spanning the road, all stretching across the road,") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Gossamer Days

As the weather grows cooler and the woods more silent, I attend to the cheerful notes of chickadees. See October 10, 1851 ("The chickadee, sounding all alone, now that birds are getting scarce, reminds me of the winter,in which it almost alone is heard."); October 23, 1852 ("The chickadees flit along, following me inquisitively a few rods with lisping, tinkling note."); November 4, 1855 ("The birds are almost all gone. The note of the dee de de sounds now more distinct") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Chickadee in Winter

Apple trees are generally bare, as well as bass, ash, elm, maple. See October 26, 1858 ("The sugar maples are about bare, except a few small ones."); See also October 16, 1854 ("The ash and most of the elm trees are bare of leaves; the red maples also."); October 18, 1857 ("The bass and the black ash are completely bare; how long?"); October 19, 1856 (“Both the white and black ash are quite bare, and some of the elms there.”);   October 22, 1858 ("Apple orchards throughout the village, or on lower and rich ground, are quite green, but on this drier Fair Haven Hill all the apple trees are yellow, with a sprinkling of green and occasionally a tinge of scarlet, i. e. are russet."); October 23, 1853 ("Apple trees yellow and brown and partly bare; white ash bare (nearly)."); October 24, 1853 ("Red maples and elms alone very conspicuously bare in our landscape."); October 31, 1858 ("the apple trees, which are half of them bare.")

October 26. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, October 26 and A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The seasons and all their changes are in me.

As woods grow silent

we attend to the cheerful

notes of chickadees.

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau,  As the woods grow more silent

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

A beautiful, calm Indian-summer afternoon

October 25

On Assabet. 

The maples being bare, the great hornet nests are exposed. 

A beautiful, calm Indian-summer afternoon, the withered reeds on the brink reflected in the water.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, October 25, 1854

The great hornet nests are exposed. See  October 4, 1858 ("Hornets are still at work in their nests."); October 15, 1855 (“The hornets’ nests are exposed, the maples being bare, but the hornets are gone.”); October 24, 1858 ("That large hornets’ nest which I saw on the 4th is now deserted, and I bring it home. But in the evening, warmed by my fire, two or three come forth and crawl over it, and I make haste to throw it out the window.") See also September 25, 1851 ("The hornets' nest not brown but gray, two shades, whitish and dark, alternating on the outer layers or the covering, giving it a waved appearance.") and A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau. Wasps and Hornets

A beautiful, calm Indian-summer afternoon. See October 22, 1854 ("This and the last two days Indian-summer weather, following hard on that sprinkling of snow west of Concord. Pretty hard frosts these nights"); October 31, 1854 ("Ever since October 27th we have had remarkably warm and pleasant Indian summer, with frequent frosts in the morning. Sat with open window for a week.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Indian Summer

A calm afternoon

reflected in the water –

Indian summer.

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau,  A beautiful, calm Indian-summer afternoon

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-541025

Now they rustle as you walk through them in the woods.

October 22.

October 22, 2023

This and the last two days Indian-summer weather, following hard on that sprinkling of snow west of Concord. Pretty hard frosts these nights. 

Many leaves fell last night, and the Assabet is covered with their fleets. Now they rustle as you walk through them in the woods. Bass trees are bare. 

The redness of huckleberry bushes is past its prime. 

I see a snapping turtle, not yet in winter quarters. 

The chickadees are picking the seeds out of pitch pine cones.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, October 22, 1854

This and the last two days Indian-summer weather. See  October 22, 1853 ("A week or more of fairest Indian summer ended last night . . .It was so warm day before yesterday, I worked in my shirt-sleeves in the woods."); October 25, 1854 ("A beautiful, calm Indian-summer afternoon, the withered reeds on the brink reflected in the water. "); October 31, 1854 ("Ever since October 27th we have had remarkably warm and pleasant Indian summer, with frequent frosts in the morning. Sat with open window for a week.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Indian Summer

Now they rustle as you walk through them in the woods See October 22, 1857 ("As I go through the woods now, so many oak and other leaves have fallen the rustling noise somewhat disturbs my musing.") See also  October 10, 1851 ("You make a great noise now walking in the woods.”); October 28, 1860 ("We make a great noise going through the fallen leaves in the woods and wood-paths now, so that we cannot hear other sounds. . .”); October 28, 1852 ("I hear no sound but the rustling of the withered leaves, and, on the wooded hilltops, the roar of the wind.")

The chickadees are picking the seeds out of pitch pine cones. See October 23, 1852 ("The chickadees flit along, following me inquisitively a few rods with lisping, tinkling note, — flit within a few feet of me from curiosity, head downward on the pines.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Chickadee in Winter

So many leaves fell

now they rustle as you walk 

through them in the woods.

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Now they rustle as you walk 

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-541022

Sunrise from the mountain-top

October 20. 

October 20, 2018

See the sun rise from the mountain-top. 

This is the time to look westward. All the villages, steeples, and houses on that side were revealed; but on the east all the landscape was a misty and gilded obscurity.

It was worth the while to see westward the countless hills and fields now white with frost. A little white fog marked the site of many a lake and the course of the Nashua, and in the east horizon the great pond had its own fog mark in a long, low bank of cloud. 

Soon after sunrise I saw the pyramidal shadow of the mountain reaching quite across the State, its apex resting on the Green or Hoosac Mountains, appearing as a deep-blue section of a cone there. It rapidly contracted, and its apex approached the mountain itself, and when about three miles distant the whole conical shadow was very distinct. 

The shadow of the mountain makes some minutes’ difference in the time of sunrise to the inhabitants of Hubbardston, within a few miles west.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, October 20, 1854

It was worth the while to see westward the countless hills and fields now white with frost. See October 20, 1852 ("No doubt, I could have seen further with a glass, and particular objects more distinctly, - could have counted more meeting-houses; but this has nothing to do with the peculiar beauty and grandeur of the view which an elevated position affords.")

Soon after sunrise I saw the pyramidal shadow of the mountain reaching quite across the State. See October 19, 1857 ("Mr. Sanborn tells me that he looked off from Wachusett last night, and that he saw the shadow of the mountain gradually extend itself eastward not only over the earth but finally on to the sky in the horizon"); June 3, 1858 ("It was still hazy, and we did not see the shadow of the mountain until it was comparatively short.")

October 20. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, October 20

Soon after sunrise

the shadow of the mountain

rapidly contracts.

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Sunrise from the mountain-top

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-541020

First snow on Wachusett Mountain

October 19.

October 19, 2014

To Westminster by cars; thence on foot to Wachusett Mountain, four miles to Foster’s, and two miles thence to mountain-top by road. 

The country above Littleton (plowed ground) more or less sugared with snow, the first I have seen. We find a little on the mountain-top. 

The prevailing tree on this mountain, top and all, is apparently the red oak, which toward and on the top is very low and spreading. On the sides, beside red oak, are rock maple, yellow birch, lever-wood, beech, chestnut, shagbark, hemlock, striped maple, witch-hazel, etc., etc. 

With a glass you can see vessels in Boston Harbor from the summit, just north of the Waltham hills.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, October 19, 1854

The country above Littleton. See December 16, 1857 ("Plowed grounds show white first.”)

With a glass you can see vessels in Boston Harbor from the summit See October 19, 1856 ("I return by the west side of Lee's Cliff hill, and sit on a rounded rock there, covered with fresh-fallen pine-needles, amid the woods, whence I see Wachusett.")

A Book of the Seasons, The October Pine Fall

It is remarkable that 

the old leaves turn and fall 

in so short a time. 

Henry Thoreau, November 21, 1850

*****

How evenly the 

freshly fallen pine-needles

are spread on the ground! 

The ground is strewn with 

pine-needles as if sunlight –

the river dark blue. 

On a rounded rock

covered with fresh pine-needles

I see Wachusett.

The trembling shimmer 

and gleam of the pine-needles –

these November lights.

There is a season

when old pine leaves are yellow –

then they are fallen.

*****

September 3.  The narrow brown sheaths from the base of white pine leaves now strew the ground and are washed up on the edge of puddles after the rain. September 3, 1858

September 5.  I now see those brown shaving like stipules of the white pine leaves, which are falling, i.e. the stipules, and caught in cobwebs. September 5, 1857

September 10.  As I go up Fair Haven Hill, I see some signs of the approaching fall of the white pine. On some trees the old leaves are already somewhat reddish, though not enough to give the trees a parti-colored look, and they come off easily on being touched, - the old leaves on the lower part of the twigs. September 10, 1851

September 28.  R. W. E.’s pines are parti-colored, preparing to fall, some of them. September 28, 1854

September 29.  Pines have begun to be parti-colored with yellow leaves. September 29, 1857

October 1.   The pines now half turned yellow, the needles of this year are so much the greener by contrast.  October 1, 1857

October 2.  The white pines have scarcely begun at all to change here, though a week ago last Wednesday they were fully changed at Bangor. October 2, 1853

October 3. The pine fall, i.e. change, is commenced, and the trees are mottled green and yellowish. October 3, 1852

October 3.  White pines fairly begin to change.  October 3, 1858

October 5. White pines in low ground and swamps are the first to change. Some of these have lost many needles. Some on dry ground have so far changed as to be quite handsome, but most only so far as to make the misty glaucous (green) leaves more soft and indefinite. October 5, 1858

October 8.  The pines are still shedding their leaves. October 8, 1851

October 9.  On Lee's hillside by the pond, the old leaves of some pitch pines are almost of a golden-yellow hue, seen in the sunlight, a rich autumnal look. The green are, as it were, set in the yellow. October 9, 1851 

October 9. In the swamp, some twenty-foot maples are already bare, and some white pines are as yellow as birches. October 9, 1857

October 10, 2018

October 11.  White pines are apparently ready to fall. Some are much paler brown than others. October 11, 1858

October 12.  A new carpet of pine leaves is forming in the woods. The forest is laying down her carpet for the winter. October 12, 1852

October 13.  A thick carpet of white pine needles lies now lightly, half an inch or more in thickness, above the dark-reddish ones of last year. October 13, 1854

October 13.  The pitch and white pines on the north of Sleepy Hollow. . . are at the height of their change, generally, though many needles fallen, carpeting the ground. October 13, 1857

October 14.   The pines are now two-colored, green and yellow, – the latter just below the ends of the boughs. October 14, 1852

October 14.   Pine-needles, just fallen, now make a thick carpet. October 14, 1856

October 15.  White pines are in the midst of their fall. October 15, 1858

October 16.  The pines, too, have fallen. October 16, 1854

October 16.  How evenly the freshly fallen pine-needles are spread on the ground! quite like a carpet. Throughout this grove no square foot is left bare. October 16, 1855

October 16.  A great part of the pine-needles have just fallen.  October 16, 1857 

October 18.  In Lee's Wood, white pine leaves are now fairly fallen . . . These leaves, like other, broader ones, pass through various hues (or shades) from green to brown, — first yellow, giving the tree that parti-colored look, then pale brown when they fall, then reddish brown after lying on the ground, and then darker and darker brown when decaying. October 18, 1857

October 18.  As I come through Hubbard’s Woods I see the wintergreen, conspicuous now above the freshly fallen white pine needles. Their shining green is suddenly revealed above the pale-brown ground. I hail its cool unwithering green, one of the humbler allies by whose aid we are to face the winter. October 18, 1858

October 19.  I return by the west side of Lee's Cliff hill, and sit on a rounded rock there, covered with fresh-fallen pine-needles, amid the woods, whence I see Wachusett . . . The rich sunny yellow of the old pitch pine needles, just ready to fall, contrasting with the new and unmixed masses above, makes a very pleasing impression. Occtober 19, 1856

October 22. The pines, both white and pitch, have now shed their leaves, and the ground in the pine woods is strewn with the newly fallen needles. October 22, 1851

October 22. White pines have for the most part fallen. All the underwood is hung with their brown fallen needles, giving to the woods an untidy appearance. October 22, 1858

October 23. The white pines have shed their leaves, making a yellow carpet on the grass, but the pitch pines are yet parti-colored. October 23, 1852 

October 23.  Some pines still parti-colored. October 23, 1853

October 23.  The fallen pine-needles, as well as other leaves, now actually paint the surface of the earth brown in the woods, covering the green and other colors, and the few evergreen plants on the forest floor stand out distinct and have a rare preeminence. October 23, 1857

October 25.  The ground is strewn with pine-needles as sunlight. October 25, 1853

October 25.  Now, especially, we notice . . . the silvery sheen of pine-needles; i. e., when its old leaves have fallen and trees generally are mostly bare, in the cool Novemberish air and light we observe and enjoy the trembling shimmer and gleam of the pine-needles. October 25, 1858

October 26. The hillside is slippery with new-fallen white pine leaves. October 26, 1855 

October 26. The pitch pine leaves not yet quite fallen. October 26, 1857

October 28. The white pine needles on the ground are already turned considerably redder.  The pitch pines, which are yellower than the white when they fall, are three quarters fallen. October 28, 1857

October 28.  Pitch pines are falling.  October 28, 1858

October 29.   I see the white pines, a clear green, rising amid and above the pitch pines, which are parti-colored, glowing internally with the warm yellow of the old leaves. Of our Concord evergreens, only the white and pitch pines are interesting in their change, for only their leaves are bright and conspicuous enough. October 28, 1859

November 9.  Just a month ago, I observed that the white pines were parti-colored, green and yellow, the needles of the previous year now falling. Now I do not observe any yellow ones, and I expect to find that it is only for a few weeks in the fall after the new leaves have done growing that there are any yellow and falling, — that there is a season when we may say the old pine leaves are now yellow, and again, they are fallen. The trees were not so tidy then; they are not so full now. They look best when contrasted with a field of snow. November 9, 1850

November 21.  For a month past the grass under the pines has been covered with a new carpet of pine leaves. It is remarkable that the old leaves turn and fall in so short a time. November 21, 1850

December 24. I observe that there are many dead pine-needles sprinkled over the snow, which had not fallen before. December 24, 1850

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The October Pine Fall

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

Black birches and red maples changed about the pond.

October 1.

The young black birches about Walden, next the south shore, are now commonly clear pale yellow, very distinct at distance, like bright-yellow white birches, so slender amid the dense growth of oaks and evergreens on the steep shores. 

  

The black birches and red maples are the conspicuous trees changed about the pond. Not yet the oaks.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, October 1, 1854

The young black birches about Walden, next the south shore, are now commonly clear pale yellow, very distinct at distance. See October 3, 1858 ("About the pond I see maples of all their tints, and black birches (on the southwest side) clear pale yellow")

The black birches and red maples are the conspicuous trees changed about the pond. See October 1, 1852 ("The young and tender trees begin to assume the autumnal tints more generally,"); October 3, 1856 ("Especially the hillsides about Walden begin to wear these autumnal tints in the cooler air. These lit leaves, this glowing, bright-tinted shrubbery, is in singular harmony with the dry, stony shore of this cool and deep well.")

The young black birches

next the Walden south shore are 

now clear pale yellow

distinct at distance

like bright-yellow white birches 

so slender amid 

dense growth of oaks and 

evergreens on the steep shores.

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Black birches and red maples 

changed about the pond.

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-541001