bright sunlight on pure white snow.
My shadow is blue.
February 10, 1855
The river is black
when the waves run high – for each
wave casts a shadow.
A strong northwest wind
shaking the house and driving
smoke down the chimney.
There is a glare of light from the fresh , unstained surface of the snow , so that it pains the eyes to travel toward the sun .
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| February 10, 2018 Stopping to look at the imprint of bird wings– the owl nabbed a squirrel. February 10, 2018 |
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| February 10, 2019 |
Write while the heat is in you. February 10, 1852
*****
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Fox,
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Winter Birds
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Western Sky
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Water-bug (Gyrinus) and Skaters (Hydrometridae)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau~edited, assembled and rewritten by zphx © 2009-2016
"A book, each page written in its own season,
out-of-doors, in its own locality.”
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