The striped squirrel spring –
we listen for the bluebird
but we hear him not.
March 4.
P. M. — To Bee Tree Hill over Fair Haven Pond.
For some time, or since the ground has been bare, I have noticed the spider-holes in the plowed land.
We go over the Cliffs. Though a cold and strong wind, it is very warm in the sun, and we can sit in the sun where sheltered on these rocks with impunity. It is a genial warmth. The rustle of the dry leaves on the earth and in the crannies of the rocks, and gathered in deep windrows just under their edge, midleg deep, reminds me of fires in the woods. They are almost ready to burn.
I see a fly on the rock.
The ice is so much rotted and softened by the sun that it looks white like snow now as I look down on the meadows. There is considerable snow on the north side of hills in the woods.
River channel fairly open.
At the Bee Hill-side, a striped squirrel quickly dives into his hole at our approach. May not this season of springlike weather between the first decidedly springlike day and the first blue bird, already fourteen days long, be called the striped squirrel spring -- In which we go listening for the blue bird, but hear him not.
Returning by the Andromeda Ponds, I am surprised to see the red ice visible still, half a dozen rods off. It is melted down to the red bubbles, and I can tinge my finger with it there by rubbing it in the rotted ice.
H. D. Thoreau, Journal, March 4, 1855
Though a cold and strong wind, it is very warm in the sun, and we can sit in the sun where sheltered on these rocks with impunity. It is a genial warmth. March 4, 1852 (“ Seeking a sunny nook on the south side of a wood which keeps off the cold wind, sitting among the maples and the swamp white oaks which are frozen in, I hear the chickadees and the belching of the ice. The sun has got a new power in his rays after all, cold as the weather is. . . .I find a place on the south side of this rocky hill where the snow is melted and the bare gray rock appears, covered with mosses and lichens and beds of oak leaves in the hollows. As I sit an invisible flame and smoke seems to ascend from the leaves, and the sun shines with a genial warmth.”)
I see a fly on the rock. See February 25, 1857 ("The leaves rustle and look all dry on the ground in the woods, as if quite ready to burn. The flies buzz out of doors . . . The thermometer is at 65° at noon.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Signs of the Spring: Buzzing Flies
River channel fairly open. See March 4, 1854 (“I can no longer get on to the river ice.”); Compare March 4, 1852 ("The river is frozen solidly, and I do not have to look out for openings.”)
This season of springlike weather between the first decidedly springlike day and the first bluebird, already fourteen days long, See February 22, 1855 ("Remarkably warm and pleasant weather, perfect spring. I even listen for the first bluebird.”); March 1, 1855 ("We go listening for bluebirds, but only hear crows and chickadees.”) March 2, 1855 (" I go listening, but in vain, for the warble of a bluebird from the old orchard across the river. “); March 11, 1855 ("A bluebird day before yesterday in Stow.”); March 12, 1855 ("Elbridge Hayden saw a bluebird yesterday."); March 19, 1855 ("And when I reach my landing I hear my first bluebird, somewhere about Cheney’s trees by the river. I hear him out of the blue deeps, but do not yet see his blue body. He comes with a warble.”) See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Signs of the Spring:
March 4. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, March 4
P. M. — To Bee Tree Hill over Fair Haven Pond.
For some time, or since the ground has been bare, I have noticed the spider-holes in the plowed land.
We go over the Cliffs. Though a cold and strong wind, it is very warm in the sun, and we can sit in the sun where sheltered on these rocks with impunity. It is a genial warmth. The rustle of the dry leaves on the earth and in the crannies of the rocks, and gathered in deep windrows just under their edge, midleg deep, reminds me of fires in the woods. They are almost ready to burn.
I see a fly on the rock.
The ice is so much rotted and softened by the sun that it looks white like snow now as I look down on the meadows. There is considerable snow on the north side of hills in the woods.
River channel fairly open.
At the Bee Hill-side, a striped squirrel quickly dives into his hole at our approach. May not this season of springlike weather between the first decidedly springlike day and the first blue bird, already fourteen days long, be called the striped squirrel spring -- In which we go listening for the blue bird, but hear him not.
Returning by the Andromeda Ponds, I am surprised to see the red ice visible still, half a dozen rods off. It is melted down to the red bubbles, and I can tinge my finger with it there by rubbing it in the rotted ice.
H. D. Thoreau, Journal, March 4, 1855
Though a cold and strong wind, it is very warm in the sun, and we can sit in the sun where sheltered on these rocks with impunity. It is a genial warmth. March 4, 1852 (“ Seeking a sunny nook on the south side of a wood which keeps off the cold wind, sitting among the maples and the swamp white oaks which are frozen in, I hear the chickadees and the belching of the ice. The sun has got a new power in his rays after all, cold as the weather is. . . .I find a place on the south side of this rocky hill where the snow is melted and the bare gray rock appears, covered with mosses and lichens and beds of oak leaves in the hollows. As I sit an invisible flame and smoke seems to ascend from the leaves, and the sun shines with a genial warmth.”)
A cold and strong wind
yet very warm in the sun –
a fly on this rock.
March 4, 1855
River channel fairly open. See March 4, 1854 (“I can no longer get on to the river ice.”); Compare March 4, 1852 ("The river is frozen solidly, and I do not have to look out for openings.”)
This season of springlike weather between the first decidedly springlike day and the first bluebird, already fourteen days long, See February 22, 1855 ("Remarkably warm and pleasant weather, perfect spring. I even listen for the first bluebird.”); March 1, 1855 ("We go listening for bluebirds, but only hear crows and chickadees.”) March 2, 1855 (" I go listening, but in vain, for the warble of a bluebird from the old orchard across the river. “); March 11, 1855 ("A bluebird day before yesterday in Stow.”); March 12, 1855 ("Elbridge Hayden saw a bluebird yesterday."); March 19, 1855 ("And when I reach my landing I hear my first bluebird, somewhere about Cheney’s trees by the river. I hear him out of the blue deeps, but do not yet see his blue body. He comes with a warble.”) See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Signs of the Spring:
A Sunny Nook in Spring
Listening for the Bluebird
The Striped Squirrel Comes Out
March 4. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, March 4
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
tinyurl.com/hdt-550304
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