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