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
*****
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~edited, assembled and rewritten by zphx © 2009-2017
"A book, each page written in its own season,
out-of-doors, in its own locality."
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