Ice forced up on edge
like a fleet beating up-stream,
a fleet of ice-boats.
February 12, 1851
The scream of a jay.
Cold hard tense frozen music
like the winter sky.
Sunlight thawing snow
strangely excites a spring-like
melting in my thoughts.
In this cold weather
nostrils of the earth white with
the frozen earth’s breath.
with scattered patches of snow
like mackerel clouds.
February 12, 1860
Return on green ice
to walk amid purple clouds
of the sunset sky.
February 12, 1860
to walk amid purple clouds
of the sunset sky.
February 12, 1860
 |
| February 12, 2020 |
A very pleasant and warm afternoon. February 12, 1855
Colder than yesterday morning; perhaps the coldest of the winter. February 12, 1858
It is very pleasant to stand now in a high pine wood where the sun shines in amid the pines and hemlocks and maples as in a warm apartment. February 12, 1855
Above me is a cloudless blue sky; beneath, the sky-blue, sky-reflecting ice with patches of snow scattered over it like mackerel clouds. February 12, 1860
Returning just before sunset, I see the ice beginning to be green, and crossing Hubbard's broad meadow, the snow-patches are a most beautiful crystalline purple. February 12, 1860
I thus find myself returning over a smooth green sea, amid thousands of these flat isles as purple as the petals of a flower. February 12, 1860
It would not be more enchanting to walk amid the purple clouds of the sunset sky. February 12, 1860
~edited, assembled and rewritten by zphx © 2009-2019
"A book, each page written in its own season,
out-of-doors, in its own locality.”
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