A Book of the Seasons: October 22

October 22.

Now the leaves that fell
last night rustle as you walk
through them in the woods.
October 22, 1854

A bright warm sunset
after a gray afternoon
lights up every leaf.
October 22, 1852

Seen at a distance
scattered birch-tops like yellow
flames amid the pines.
October 22, 1855

Leaves twice in season --
in their green youth in June and
this their ripe old age.
October 22, 1855

In the wood-path
fresh Viola pedata
flowers bring back spring.
October 22, 1859

October 22, 2017

October 22, 2020

Nature will bear the closest inspection. She invites us to lay our eye level with her smallest leaf, and take an insect view of its plain. October 22, 1839

This and the last two days Indian-summer weather, following hard on that sprinkling of snow west of Concord. Pretty hard frosts these nights. October 22, 1854 

How welcome this still, cloudy day! An inward sunniness more than makes up for the want of an external one. October 22, 1855

The dogwood (poison sumach) blazing its sins as scarlet, the early-blushing maple, the rich chrome yellow of the poplar, the mulberry ash, the brilliant red huckleberry. . .  all the colors of the rainbow.  October 22, 1853

I see a Lombardy poplar or two yellowing at last; many leaves clear and handsome yellow. They thus, like the balm-of-Gilead and aspens, show their relation to the willows. October 22, 1858

That birch swamp under the Cliff is very interesting. The birches are now but thinly clad and that at top, its flame shaped top more like flames than ever now. At this distance their bare slender stems are very distinct, dense, and parallel, apparently on a somewhat smoky ground (caused by the bare twigs), and this pretty thicket of dense parallel stems is crowned or surmounted by little cones or crescents of golden spangles.  October 22, 1858 

The 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. These are quite distinct from the reddish misty maze below, fit if they are young trees, or the fine and close parallel white stems if they are larger. Nevertheless the topmost leaves at the extremities . . .are still green.  October 22, 1858

I think that the yellows, as birches, etc., are the most distinct this very thick and cloudy day in which there is no sun, but when the sun shines the reds are lit up more and glow. October 22, 1858

As I pass this grove, I see the open ground strewn and colored with yellow leaves, which have been wafted from a large black birch ten rods within the wood. October 22, 1855

I see at a distance the scattered birch-tops, like yellow flames amid the pines, also, in another direction, the red of oaks in the bosom of a pine wood, and, in sprout-lands on Fair Haven, the deep and uniform red of young oaks. October 22, 1855

I can see the red of young oaks as far as the horizon on some sides.  October 22, 1858

It is interesting to observe how gradually but steadily the woods advance through deeper and deeper shades of brown to their fall. October 22, 1858  

The leaves of the hickory are a very rich yellow, though they may be quite withered and fallen, but they become brown. October 22, 1858

The hickory leaves, now after they have fallen, are often if not oftenest a dark rich yellow, very conspicuous upon the brown leaves of the forest floor, seeming to have more life in them than those leaves which are brown. October 22, 1857

Large oaks are already generally brown. Reddish brown is the prevailing color of deciduous woods. October 22, 1857 

You can tell the young white oak in the midst of the sprout-land by its light brown color, almost like that of the russet fields seen beyond, also the scarlet by its brighter red. October 22, 1858

Oaks (except the scarlet), especially the small oaks, are generally withered or withering, . . . Many of the small scarlet ones are withered too, but the larger scarlet appear to be in their prime now. October 22, 1858

Apparently the scarlet oak, large and small (not shrubby), is in prime now, after other oaks are generally withered or withering. October 22, 1858

I see a scarlet oak and even a white one, still almost entirely green! The chestnut oak there is also generally green still, some leaves turned yellow-brown and withering so. October 22, 1857

Near by, the Aralia hispida, turned a very clear dark red. October 22, 1858

Apple orchards throughout the village, or on lower and rich ground, are quite green, but on this drier Fair Haven Hill all the apple trees are yellow, with a sprinkling of green and occasionally a tinge of scarlet, i. e. are russet. October 22, 1858

The fields are now perhaps truly and most generally russet, especially where the blackberry and other small reddish plants are seen through the fine bleached grass and stubble October 22, 1858

As I go through the woods now, so many oak and other leaves have fallen the rustling noise somewhat disturbs my musing. October 22, 1857 

 Now they rustle as you walk through them in the woods. October 22, 1854

Many leaves fell last night, and the Assabet is covered with their fleets. October 22, 1854

This great fleet of scattered leaf boats, still tight and dry, each one curled up on every side by the sun's skill, October 22, 1853 

How densely they cover and conceal the water for several feet in width, under and amid the alders and button-bushes and maples along the shore of the river, — still light, tight, and dry boats, dense cities of boats, their fibres not relaxed by the waters, undulating and rustling with every wave, of such various pure and delicate, though fading, tints, — of hues that might make the fame of teas, — dried on great Nature's coppers. . .  next the shore, as thick as foam they float, and when you turn your prow that way, list! what a rustling of the crisped waves!  October 22, 1853

Consider what a vast crop is thus annually shed upon the earth. This,. . . is the great harvest of the year. This annual decay and death, this dying by inches, before the whole tree at last lies down and turns to soil. . . . It prepares the virgin mould for future corn fields on which the earth fattens. They teach us how to die. How many flutterings before they rest quietly in their graves! A myriad wrappers for germinating seeds. By what subtle chemistry they will mount up again, climbing by the sap in the trees October 22, 1853

The ground is all parti-colored with them. For beautiful variety can any crop be compared with them? October 22, 1853

Many phenomena remind me that now is to some extent a second spring, — not only the new-springing and blossoming of flowers, but the peeping of the hylodes for some time, and the faint warbling of their spring notes by many birds. . . .The Viola pedata looking up from so low in the wood-path makes a singular impression.October 23, 1853

In the wood-path below the Cliffs I see perfectly fresh and fair Viola pedata flowers, as in the spring, though but few together. No flower by its second blooming more perfectly brings back the spring to us.  October 22, 1859

The sagittate leaves of the Viola ovata, too, now flat in the path, and the prettily divided leaves or fingers of the V. pedata, with purple petioles (also fallen flatter than usual ?), are both turned a clear handsome light-yellow. October 22, 1858

Also the V. cucullata is turned yellow. These are far more conspicuous now than ever before, contrasted with the green grass; so that you do not recognize them at first on account of their very conspicuousness or brightness of color. October 22, 1858

The swamp pyrus (Amelanchier) is leafing again. One opening leafet is an inch long, while the reddish yellow leaves still hold on at the end of the twig above. Its green swollen buds are generally conspicuous, curving round the stems. It is a new spring there. October 22, 1855 

Many other small plants have changed now, whose color we do not notice in the midst of the general changing. Even the Lycopodium complanatum (evergreen) is turned a light yellow (a part of it) in its season, like the pines (or evergreen trees). October 22, 1858

These bright leaves are not the exception but the rule, for I believe that all leaves, even grasses, etc., etc., — Panicum clandestinum, — and mosses, as sphagnum, under favorable circumstances acquire brighter colors just before their fall . . .  And if you undertake to make a complete list of the bright tints, your list will be as long as a catalogue of the plants in your vicinity. October 22, 1858

I find to-day that many small shrubs which have been protected by the forest are remarkably fair and bright. October 22, 1855

 I see, from the Cliffs, that color has run through the shrub oak plain like a fire or a wave, not omitting a single tree. October 22, 1858

There are two seasons when the leaves are in their glory, their green and perfect youth in June and this their ripe old age. October 22, 1855

The black willows along the river are about as bare as in November. October 22, 1857

Bass trees are bare. October 22, 1854 

Chestnut trees are almost bare. Now is just the time for chestnuts. October 22, 1857

The pines, both white and pitch, have now shed their leaves, and the ground in the pine woods is strewn with the newly fallen needles. October 22, 1851 

 White pines have for the most part fallen. All the underwood is hung with their brown fallen needles, giving to the woods an untidy appearance. October 22, 1858

The bright tints of autumn are now fairly and generally over. Perhaps the brightest trees I see this moment are some aspens. October 22, 1857 

I see the blue pond between the green white pines in the field. . .the blue of water, the green of pines, and the dull reddish brown of oak leaves. October 22, 1857 

The sight of the blue water between the now perfectly green white pines, seen over the light-brown pasture, is peculiarly Novemberish, though it may be like this in early spring. October 22, 1857 

The fragrant life everlasting is still fresh, and the Canada snapdragon still blooms bluely by the roadside. October 22, 1851 

You can still pluck a variegated and handsome nosegay on the top of the Cliff. I see a mullein freshly out, very handsome Aster undulatus, and an abundance of the little blue snapdragon, and some Polygonum Persicaria. October 22, 1858

In Potter’s maple swamp, where the red maple leaves lie in thick beds on the ground, what a strong mustiness, even sourness in some places! Yet I like this scent. With the present associations, sweet to me is the mustiness of the grave itself. October 22, 1855

The rain and dampness have given birth to a new crop of mushrooms.  October 22, 1851 

I sit on a bank at the brook crossing, beyond the grove, to watch a flock of seringos, perhaps Savannah sparrows, which, with some F. hyemalis and other sparrows, are actively flitting about amid the alders and dogwood. October 22, 1855

F. hyemalis quite common for a week past.  October 22, 1859 

I hear a hyla. October 22, 1855

When I approach the pond over Heywood's Peak, I disturb a hawk on a white pine by the water watching for his prey, with long, narrow, sharp wings and a white belly. He flies slowly across the pond somewhat like a gull. He is the more picturesque object against the woods or water for being white beneath. . October 22, 1852

A marsh hawk sails over Fair Haven Hill.  October 22, 1859 (

 Blackbirds go over, chattering, and a small hawk — pigeon or sparrow - glides along and alights on an elm. October 22, 1857 

Suddenly a pigeon hawk dashes over the bank very low and within a rod of me, and, striking its wings against the twigs with a clatter close to a sparrow, which escaped, it alights amid the alders in front, within four rods of me. It is attracted by the same objects which attracted me. It sits a few moments, balancing itself and spreading its tail and wings, -- a chubby little fellow. Its back appears a sort of deep chocolate-brown.. . .In a few minutes he skims along the hedge by the path and disappears westward. But presently, hearing the sound of his wings amid the bushes, I look up and see him dashing along through the willows and then out and upward high over the meadow in pursuit of a sparrow. .October 22, 1855 

I see a snapping turtle, not yet in winter quarters. October 22, 1854

You get very near wood ducks with a boat nowadays. October 22, 1858

I see what I call a hermit thrush on the bushes by the shore of Flint’s Pond; pretty tame. October 22, ,1857

The chickadees are picking the seeds out of pitch pine cones. October 22, 1854

Hornets’ nests are now being exposed, deserted by the hornets; and little wasp nests, one and a half inches wide, on huckleberry and sweet-fern. October 22, 1858

The redness of huckleberry bushes is past its prime. October 22, 1854

Looking to Conantum, the huckleberries are apparently fallen. October 22, 1858

The button-bushes are completely, bare, letting in more light to the water, and these days I see on their stems the ribbed reflections of the waves I have made. October 22, 1857

Yesterday, toward night, gave Sophia and mother a sail as far as the Battle-Ground . . . It was a beautiful evening, and a clear amber sunset lit up all the eastern shores. October 22, 1854

We have to-night a bright warm sunset after a cool gray afternoon, lighting up the green pines at the northeast end of the pond; every yellow leaf of birch or aspen or hickory is doubly bright, and, looking over the forest on Pine Hill, I can hardly tell which trees are lit up by the sunshine and which are the yellow chestnut-tops.  October 22, 1852

Look from the high hill, just before sundown, over the pond. The mountains are a mere cold slate-color. But what a perfect crescent of mountains we have in our northwest horizon! Do we ever give thanks for it?  . . . Ah, I am content to dwell there and see the sun go down behind my mountain fence. October 22, 1857

Do not the darkest nights occur about this time, when there is a haze produced by the Indian-summer days, succeeded by a moonless night? October 22, 1858

October 22, 2018

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau. Wasps and Hornets

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Horizon

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Lycopodiums

 A Book of the Seasons by Henry Thoreau, The Pigeon Hawk (Merlin)

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Chickadee in Winter

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Savannah Sparrow (Fringilla savanna)

  A Book of the Seasons by Henry Thoreau, the Dark-eyed Junco (Fringilla hyemalis)

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Aspens

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Birches in Season

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The White Pines

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Pine Fall 

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau. The Hickory

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Shrub Oak

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Aromatic Herbs

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Violets

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, October Moonlight

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, October

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, October Moods

October 22, 2017

October 20. 1853 ("Merrily they go scampering over the earth, selecting their graves, whispering all through the woods about it. They that waved so loftily, how contentedly they return to dust again and are laid low, resigned to lie and decay at the foot of the tree and afford nourishment to new generations of their kind")

 August 14, 1854(“I have come forth to this hill at sunset to see the forms of the mountains in the horizon.— to behold and commune with something grander than man. “); June 5, 1854 ("I have come to this hill to see the sun go down, to recover sanity and put myself again in relation with Nature.”)  Also October 20, 1852 (“Picking chestnuts on Pine Hill. . . . I see the mountains in sunshine, all the more attractive from the cold I feel here, with a tinge of purple on them”)

 November  14, 1853 (“All waters — the rivers and ponds and swollen brooks — and many new ones are now seen through the leafless trees — are blue reservoirs of dark indigo amid the general russet and reddish-brown and gray.”) ;November 25, 1853 ("There is first the clean light-reflecting russet earth, the dark-blue water, the dark or dingy green evergreens, the dull reddish-brown of young oaks and shrub oaks, the gray of maples and other leafless trees, and the white of birch stems. . . .”);

October 22, 2020

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 © 2009-2019