Tuesday, September 15, 2015

A Book of the Seasons: September 15.


The potato vines 
and the beans which were still green
now blackened by frost.
September 15, 1851

Witch-hazel opened -- 
a third or a half its leaves
are yellow and brown.

Southeast wind with clouds.
Hummingbird in the garden.
I suspect a storm.
September 15, 1858

Dark ancient stone weights --
oval stones brought from England
in a linen bag.


I love to see anything that implies a simpler mode of life and greater nearness to the earth. September 15, 1860

A hummingbird in the garden. There is a southeast wind, with clouds, and I suspect a storm brewing. It is very rare that the wind blows from this quarter. September 15, 1858 

The potato vines and the beans which were still green are now blackened and flattened by the frost. September 15, 1851

I have not seen not heard a bobolink for some days at least, numerous as they were three weeks ago, and even fifteen days. They depart early.   September 15, 1858  


The witch-hazel has opened . . .Its leaves, a third or a half of them, are yellow and brown. September 15, 1854

I hear a nuthatch occasionally, but it reminds me of winter.   September 15, 1858 

*****
These bracing fine days
when frosts come to ripen the
year, the days, like fruit.



The summer concludes
with the crisis of first frosts.
The end of berries.

Trail now overgrown 
sudden memories of our
first walk on this land.
September 15, 2016 



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 © 2009-2017

No comments:

Post a Comment

Popular Posts Last 30 Days.

The week ahead in Henry’s journal

The week ahead in Henry’s journal
A journal, a book that shall contain a record of all your joy.
"A stone fruit. Each one yields me a thought." ~ H. D. Thoreau, March 28, 1859


I sit on this rock
wrestling with the melody
that possesses me.