I feel as if
I were an ear of
ripening corn myself.
September 5, 1851
Aster puniceus
one rod in diameter –
one mass of flowers.
September 5, 1853
Now at sundown
a blue heron flaps away
from his perch on an oak
over the river before me
just above the rock.
Water rises, winds come,
weeds are drifted to the shore.
The water is cleared.
Women and children
picking hops in the shade of
large white sheets like sails.
I see those stipules
of the white pine leaves falling
and caught in cobwebs.
I hear two or more
wood pewees this afternoon –
pewee days over.
September 5, 1858.
Part of the forenoon
in the woods searching for a
suitable millstone.
September 5, 1859
Hibiscus in prime
and the great bidens add their beauty to the bank.
 |
| September 05, 2014 |
Spent a part of the forenoon in the woods in the northwest part of Acton, searching for a stone suitable for a millstone for my lead-mill. September 5, 1859
In Northfield first observed fields of broom-corn very common, Sorghum saccharatum, taller than corn. Alcott says they bend down the heads before they gather them, to fit them for brooms. September 5, 1856
Hereabouts women and children are already picking hops in the fields, in the shade of large white sheets, like sails. September 5, 1856
The brink of the river is still quite interesting in some respects, and to some eyes more interesting than ever. September 5, 1860
What further adds to the beauty of the bank is the hibiscus, in prime, and the great bidens. September 5, 1860
Though the willows and button-bushes have already assumed an autumnal hue, and the pontederia is extensively crisped and blackened, the dense masses of mikania. . .are perhaps more remarkable than ever. . . . as rich a sight as any flower we have, — little terraces of contiguous corymbs. September 5, 1860
Also the dodder is more revealed, also draping the brink over the water. September 5, 1860
See the little dippers back. September 5, 1860
The brink of the river is still quite interesting in some respects, and to some eyes more interesting than ever. September 5, 1860
What further adds to the beauty of the bank is the hibiscus, in prime, and the great bidens. September 5, 1860
Though the willows and button-bushes have already assumed an autumnal hue, and the pontederia is extensively crisped and blackened, the dense masses of mikania. . .are perhaps more remarkable than ever. . . . as rich a sight as any flower we have, — little terraces of contiguous corymbs. September 5, 1860
Also the dodder is more revealed, also draping the brink over the water. September 5, 1860
See the little dippers back. September 5, 1860
The river rising probably. September 5, 1854
River falls suddenly, having been high all summer. September 5, 1857
River falls suddenly, having been high all summer. September 5, 1857
The river weeds are now much decayed . . . This is a fall phenomenon. The river weeds, becoming rotten, though many are still green, fall or are loosened, the water rises, the winds come, and they are drifted to the shore, and the water is cleared. September 5, 1854
Having walked through a quantity of desmodium under Ball's Hill , by the shore there (Marilandicum or rigidum), we found our pants covered with its seeds to a remarkable and amusing degree. September 5, 1860
It was the event of our walk, and we were proud to wear this badge, as if he were the most distinguished who had the most on his clothes.
September 5, 1860
Went down to the pond-hole behind where I used to live. . . . the shore is thickly covered with rattlesnake grass, now ripe. September 5, 1858
I find many high blueberries, quite fresh, overhanging the south shore of Walden. September 5, 1858
I find, all about Walden, close to the edge on the steep bank, and at Brister’s Spring, a fine grass now generally past prime, Agrostis perennans, thin grass, or hair grass, on moist ground or near water. The branches of the panicle are but slightly purplish. September 5, 1858
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.
Aster puniceus in prime. September 5, 1856
An island of Aster puniceus, one rod in diameter, - one mass of flowers five feet high. September 5, 1853
Solidago lanceolata past prime, a good deal. September 5, 1856
Will not the prime of goldenrods and asters be just before the first severe frosts ? September 5, 1856
As I ride along in the cars, I think that the ferns, etc., are browned and crisped more than usual at this season, on account of the very wet weather. September 5, 1856
Observed by railroad, in Fitchburg, low slippery elm shrubs with great, rough, one-sided leaves. September 5, 1856
About one mile from West Fitchburg depot, westward, I saw the panicled elderberries on the railroad but just beginning to redden, though it is said to ripen long before this. September 5, 1856
As I was walking through Westminster, I remembered that G. B. Emerson says that he saw a handsome clump of the Salix lucida on an island in Meeting-House Pond in this town, and, looking round, I saw a shrub of it by the railroad, about one mile west of West Fitchburg depot, and several times afterward within a mile or two. Also in the brook behind Mr. Alcott's house in Walpole, N. H. September 5, 1856
Prinos verticillatus berries reddening. September 5, 1858
Barrett shows me some very handsome pear-shaped cranberries, not uncommon, which may be a permanent variety different from the common rounded ones. September 5, 1854
Bathe at the swamp white oak, the water again warmer than I expected. September 5, 1854
Just this side the rock, the water near the shore and pads is quite white for twenty rods, as with a white sawdust, with the exuviae of small insects about an eighth of an inch long, mixed with scum and weeds. September 5, 1854
I see much thistle-down without the seed floating on the river and a hummingbird about a cardinal-flower over the water’s edge. September 5, 1854.
I hear the tree-toad to-day. September 5, 1854
I hear two or more wood pewees this afternoon, but had not before for a fortnight or more. The pewee days are over for some time. September 5, 1858.
Did I not see a marsh hawk in imperfect plumage? Quite brown, with some white midway then wings, and tips of wings black? September 5, 1860
Now at sundown, a blue heron flaps away from his perch on an oak over the river before me, just above the rock. September 5, 1854
Hear locusts after sundown. September 5, 1854
Did I not see a marsh hawk in imperfect plumage? Quite brown, with some white midway then wings, and tips of wings black? September 5, 1860
Now at sundown, a blue heron flaps away from his perch on an oak over the river before me, just above the rock. September 5, 1854
Hear locusts after sundown. September 5, 1854
The landscape seen from the slightest elevation by moonlight is seen remotely, and flattened, as it were, into mere light and shade, open field and forest, like the surface of the earth seen from the top of a mountain. September 5, 1851
Fair Haven by moonlight lies there like a lake in the Maine wilderness in the midst of a primitive forest untrodden by man. This light and this hour take the civilization all out of the landscape. September 5, 1851
A field of ripening corn, now at night, that has been topped, with the stalks stacked up to dry, – an inexpressibly dry, rich, sweet ripening scent. I feel as if I were an ear of ripening corn myself. September 5, 1851
The moonlight seems to linger as if it were giving way to the light of coming day. September 5, 1851
September 5, 2014
*****
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau:
*****
September 5, 2016
April 10, 1853 ("Saw a pretty large narrow-winged hawk with a white rump and white spots or bars on under (?) side of wings. Probably the female or young of a marsh hawk.")
April 13, 1854 (" A small brown hawk with white on rump — I think too small for a marsh hawk — sailed low over the meadow. [May it have been a young male harrier?]");
April 23, 1855 ("I have seen also for some weeks occasionally a brown hawk with white rump, flying low, which I have thought the frog hawk in a different stage of plumage; but can it be at this season? and is it not the marsh hawk? Yet it is not so heavy nearly as the hen-hawk -- probably female hen-harrier [i. e. marsh hawk]")
May 14, 1857 ("See a pair of marsh hawks, the smaller and lighter-colored male, with black tips to wings, and the large brown female, sailing low")
July 12, 1851 ("The earliest corn is beginning to show its tassels now, and I scent it as I walk, — its peculiar dry scent.");
July 31, 1855 ("Tree-toads sing more than before.")
July 31, 1855 ("Tree-toads sing more than before.")
August 2, 1860 ("Mikania begun, and now, perhaps, the river's brink is at its height. ")
August 14. 1858 (" The wood pewee, with its young, peculiarly common and prominent. . . . These might be called the pewee-days.")
August 14. 1858 (" The wood pewee, with its young, peculiarly common and prominent. . . . These might be called the pewee-days.")
August 15, 1860 ("See a blue heron.")
August 18, 1860 ("The note of the wood pewee sounds prominent of late.")
August 20, 1854 ("Prinos berries have begun to redden. ")
August 21, 1853("the peawai still,")
August 22, 1858 ("Now that the mikania begins to prevail the button-bush has done . . . and the willows are already somewhat crisped and imbrowned")August 26, 1856 ("These desmodiums are so fine and inobvious that it is difficult to detect them. I go through a grove in vain, but when I get away, find my coat covered with their pods. They found me, though I did not them.”);
September 2, 1856 ("Frank Harding has caught a dog-day locust which lit on the bottom of my boat, in which he was sitting, and z-ed there")
September 2, 1852 ("The red prinos berries ripe in sunny places.")
September 3, 1858 ("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 4, 1854 ("To Fair Haven Pond by boat. Full moon; bats flying about; skaters and water bugs like sparks of fire on the surface between us and the moon.")
September 7, 1858 ("It is an early September afternoon, melting warm and sunny. . .and ever and anon the hot z-ing of the locust is heard.")
Sepember 11, 1859 ("The prinos berries are now seen, red (or scarlet), clustered along the stems, amid the as yet green leaves. A cool red.")
Sepember 11, 1859 ("The prinos berries are now seen, red (or scarlet), clustered along the stems, amid the as yet green leaves. A cool red.")
September 13, 1852 ("The great bidens in the sun in brooks affects me as the rose of the fall, the most flavid product of the water and the sun. They are low suns in the brook. The golden glow of autumn concentrated, more golden than the sun . . . If I come by at this season, a golden blaze will salute me here from a thousand suns.")
September 20, 1859 ("The button-bushes by the river are generally overrun with the mikania.")
September 20, 1859 ("The button-bushes by the river are generally overrun with the mikania.")
September 28, 1851 ("The swamp is bordered with the red-berried alder, or prinos,")
September 29, 1856 ("How surely the desmodium, growing on some rough cliff-side, or the bidens, on the edge of a pool, prophesy the coming of the traveller, brute or human, that will transport their seeds on his coat!")
September 29, 1856 ("How surely the desmodium, growing on some rough cliff-side, or the bidens, on the edge of a pool, prophesy the coming of the traveller, brute or human, that will transport their seeds on his coat!")
October 2, 1852 ("The beggar-ticks (Bidens) now adhere to my clothes. I also find the desmodium sooner thus . . . than if I used my eyes alone.")
October 2, 1856 (“The prinos berries are in their prime.”)
October 6, 1858 ("The corn stands bleached and faded — quite white in the twilight")
October 7, 1857 ("Crossing Depot Brook, I see many yellow butterflies fluttering about the Aster puniceus, still abundantly in bloom there.")
October 10, 1857 ("To Walden over Fair Haven Hill. Some Prinos verticillatus yellowing and browning at once, and in low ground just falling and leaving the bright berries bare")
October 7, 1857 ("Crossing Depot Brook, I see many yellow butterflies fluttering about the Aster puniceus, still abundantly in bloom there.")
October 10, 1857 ("To Walden over Fair Haven Hill. Some Prinos verticillatus yellowing and browning at once, and in low ground just falling and leaving the bright berries bare")
October 18, 1855 ("A large brown marsh hawk comes beating the bush along the river, and ere long a slate-colored one (male), with black tips, is seen circling against a distant wood-side.")
December 27, 1857 ("It appears, then, that some of those old gray blueberry bushes which overhang the pond-holes have attained half the age of man.")
December 27, 1857 ("It appears, then, that some of those old gray blueberry bushes which overhang the pond-holes have attained half the age of man.")
September 5, 2016
If you make the least correct
observation of nature this year,
you will have occasion to repeat it
with illustrations the next,
and the season and life itself is prolonged.
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, September 5
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 © 2009-20
tinyurl.com/HDT05SEPT
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