Wild apples

October 27. 

There are many fringed gentians, now considerably frost-bitten, in what was E. Hosmer’s meadow between his dam and the road. 

It is high time we came a-nutting, for the nuts have nearly all fallen, and you must depend on what you can find on the ground, left by the squirrels, and cannot shake down any more to speak of. 

The trees are nearly all bare of leaves as well as burs. The wind comes cold from the northwest, as if there were snow on the earth in that direction.

Larches are yellowing. 

It is remarkable that the wild apples which I praise as so spirited and racy when eaten in the fields and woods, when brought into the house have a harsh and crabbed taste. To appreciate their wild and sharp flavors, it seems necessary that you be breathing the sharp October or November air.  

They must be eaten in the fields, when your system is all aglow with exercise, the frosty weather nips your fingers (in November), the wind rattles the bare boughs and rustles the leaves, and the jay is heard screaming around.

Some of those apples might be labelled, “To be eaten in the wind.”

So there is one thought for the field, another for the house. I would have my thoughts, like wild apples, to be food for walkers, and will not warrant them to be palatable if tasted in the house.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, October 27, 1855

It is high time we came a-nutting, for the nuts have nearly all fallen, and you must depend on what you can find on the ground, left by the squirrels, and cannot shake down any more to speak of. See note to October 27, 1853 ("Now it is time to look out for walnuts, last and hardest crop of the year?")

I would have my thoughts, like wild apples, to be food for walkers, and will not warrant them to be palatable if tasted in the house. See November 11, 1860 (“Now is the time for wild apples. . . Food for walkers.”)