The year is but a succession of days,
and I see that I could assign some office to each day
which, summed up, would be the history of the year.
Henry Thoreau, August 24, 1852
We have poetry –
flowers and the song of birds,
before woods leaf out.
 |
| May 1, 2014 |
There is an unaccountable sweetness as of flowers in the air, — a true May day. May 1, 1855
We have, then, flowers and the song of birds before the woods leaf out, – like poetry. May 1, 1852
Why have the white pines at a distance that silvery look around their edges or thin parts? Is it owing to the wind showing the under sides of the needles? Methinks you do not see it in the winter. May 1, 1855
What various brilliant and evanescent colors on the surface of this agitated water, now, as we are crossing Willow Bay, looking toward the half-concealed sun over the foam-spotted flood! It reminds me of the sea. May 1, 1855
The water is strewn with myriads of wrecked shad-flies, erect on the surface, with their wings up like so many schooners all headed one way. What an abundance of food they must afford to the fishes! May 1, 1854
Suddenly a large hawk sailed over from the Assabet . . . It was a fish hawk, with a very conspicuous white crown or head and a uniform brown above elsewhere; beneath white, breast and belly. Probably it was the male, which is the smaller and whiter beneath. A wedge-shaped tail. He alighted on a dead elm limb. May 1, 1858
After fifteen minutes came a crow from the Assabet and alighted cawing, about twenty rods from him [an osprey in an elm], and ten minutes later another. How alert they are to detect these great birds of prey! May 1, 1858
A partridge bursts away from under the rock below me on quivering wings. May 1, 1852
The maples of Potter’s Swamp, seen now nearly half a mile off against the russet or reddish hillside, are a very dull scarlet, like Spanish brown, but one against a green pine wood is much brighter. May 1, 1855
From the hilltop I look over Wheeler’s maple swamp. The maple-tops are now, I should say, a bright brick red. It is the red maple’s reign now. May 1, 1856
The sugar maple keys (or buds?) hang down one inch, quite. May 1, 1860
The viburnum (Lentago or nudum) leaves unexpectedly forward at the Cliff Brook and about Miles Swamp. May 1, 1854
The climbing fern is persistent, i. e. retains its greenness still, though now partly brown and withered. May 1, 1859
How pleasing that early purple grass in smooth water! May 1, 1856
It occurs to me that that early purple grass on pools corresponds to the color of leaves acquired after the frosts in the fall, as if the cold had, after all, more to do with it than is supposed. May 1, 1858
As we sit on the steep hillside south of Nut Meadow Brook Crossing, we notice a remarkable whirlwind on a small scale, which carries up the oak leaves from that Island copse in the meadow. May 1, 1859
The water is strewn with myriads of wrecked shad-flies, erect on the surface, with their wings up like so many schooners all headed one way. What an abundance of food they must afford to the fishes! May 1, 1854
Suddenly a large hawk sailed over from the Assabet . . . It was a fish hawk, with a very conspicuous white crown or head and a uniform brown above elsewhere; beneath white, breast and belly. Probably it was the male, which is the smaller and whiter beneath. A wedge-shaped tail. He alighted on a dead elm limb. May 1, 1858
After fifteen minutes came a crow from the Assabet and alighted cawing, about twenty rods from him [an osprey in an elm], and ten minutes later another. How alert they are to detect these great birds of prey! May 1, 1858
A partridge bursts away from under the rock below me on quivering wings. May 1, 1852
The maples of Potter’s Swamp, seen now nearly half a mile off against the russet or reddish hillside, are a very dull scarlet, like Spanish brown, but one against a green pine wood is much brighter. May 1, 1855
From the hilltop I look over Wheeler’s maple swamp. The maple-tops are now, I should say, a bright brick red. It is the red maple’s reign now. May 1, 1856
The sugar maple keys (or buds?) hang down one inch, quite. May 1, 1860
The viburnum (Lentago or nudum) leaves unexpectedly forward at the Cliff Brook and about Miles Swamp. May 1, 1854
The climbing fern is persistent, i. e. retains its greenness still, though now partly brown and withered. May 1, 1859
How pleasing that early purple grass in smooth water! May 1, 1856
It occurs to me that that early purple grass on pools corresponds to the color of leaves acquired after the frosts in the fall, as if the cold had, after all, more to do with it than is supposed. May 1, 1858
As we sit on the steep hillside south of Nut Meadow Brook Crossing, we notice a remarkable whirlwind on a small scale, which carries up the oak leaves from that Island copse in the meadow. May 1, 1859
Off and up they go
high into the clear blue deeps.
The flight of the leaves.
May 1, 1859
Apparently a skunk has picked up what I took to be the dead shrew in the Goose Pond Path. How they ransack the paths these nights ! May 1, 1857
I think I heard an oven-bird just now, - wicher wicher whicher wich. May 1, 1852
Did I not see the oven-bird yesterday? May 1, 1853
Hear a golden-crested wren at Cedar Swamp .May 1, 1854
Hear the ruby-crowned wren. May 1, 1859
See a thrasher. May 1, 1859
Hear a thrasher. May 1, 1858.
I hear the first towhee finch. He says to-wee, to-wee, and another, much farther off than I supposed when I went in search of him, says whip your ch-r-r-r-r-r-r, with a metallic ring. May 1, 1852
I hear a black and white creeper at the Cliffs, and a chewink. May 1, 1853. See and hear chewink. May 1, 1859
I also hear the myrtle-birds on the Island woods. Their common note is somewhat like the chill-lill or jingle of the F. hyemalis. May 1, 1858
The myrtle-bird is one of the commonest and tamest birds now. It catches insects like a pewee, darting off from its perch and returning to it, and sings something like a-chill chill, chill chill, chill chill, a-twear, twill twill twee, May 1, 1855
I am on the Cliff. It is about six. The flicker cackles. I hear a woodpecker tapping. The tinkle of the huckleberry-bird comes up from the shrub oak plain. May 1, 1852
The columbines have been out some days. May 1, 1853. I think that the columbine cannot be said to have blossomed there [Lee's Cliff] before to-day, — the very earliest. May 1, 1854
The scrolls of the ferns clothed in wool at Sassafras Shore, five or six inches high. May 1, 1856
I hear the first towhee finch. He says to-wee, to-wee, and another, much farther off than I supposed when I went in search of him, says whip your ch-r-r-r-r-r-r, with a metallic ring. May 1, 1852
I hear a black and white creeper at the Cliffs, and a chewink. May 1, 1853. See and hear chewink. May 1, 1859
I also hear the myrtle-birds on the Island woods. Their common note is somewhat like the chill-lill or jingle of the F. hyemalis. May 1, 1858
The myrtle-bird is one of the commonest and tamest birds now. It catches insects like a pewee, darting off from its perch and returning to it, and sings something like a-chill chill, chill chill, chill chill, a-twear, twill twill twee, May 1, 1855
I am on the Cliff. It is about six. The flicker cackles. I hear a woodpecker tapping. The tinkle of the huckleberry-bird comes up from the shrub oak plain. May 1, 1852
The columbines have been out some days. May 1, 1853. I think that the columbine cannot be said to have blossomed there [Lee's Cliff] before to-day, — the very earliest. May 1, 1854
The scrolls of the ferns clothed in wool at Sassafras Shore, five or six inches high. May 1, 1856
Thalictrum anemonoides at Conant Cliff. May 1, 1855.
Thalictrum anemonoides well out, probably a day or two, same shore, by the apple trees. May 1, 1856
Viola ovata on southwest side of hill, high up near pines. May 1, 1856.
Viola ovata on southwest side of hill, high up near pines. May 1, 1856.
Viola ovata (Ellen Emerson found it April 20th), May 1, 1853
At Clamshell, the Viola blanda. I do not look for pollen. May 1, 1855
Plucked the Arum triphyllum, three inches high, with its acrid corm (solid bulb), from the edge of Saw Mill Brook. May 1, 1857
Looking from Clamshell over Hosmer's meadow, about half covered with water, see hundreds of turtles, chiefly picta, now first lying out in numbers on the brown pieces of meadow which rise above the water. . . . All up and down our river meadows their backs are shining in the sun to-day. It is a turtle day. May 1, 1859
Two sternothaeruses which I catch emit no scent yet. May 1, 1858
Snakes are now common on warm banks. May 1, 1854
See a little snake on the dry twigs and chips in the sun, near the arbutus, apparently Coluber amamus. May 1, 1859
First notice the ring of the toad, as I am crossing the Common in front of the meeting-house. There is a cool and breezy south wind, and the ring of the first toad leaks into the general stream of sound, unnoticed by most, . . .. The bell was ringing for town meeting, and every one heard it, but It is a sound from amid the waves of the aerial sea, that breaks on our ears with the surf of the air, a sound that is almost breathed with the wind. May 1, 1857
The toads are so numerous, some sitting on all sides, that their ring is a continuous sound throughout the day and night, . . .as uninterrupted to the ear as the rippling breeze or the circulations of the air itself, for when it dies away on one side it swells again on another, and if it should suddenly cease all men would exclaim at the pause, though they might not have noticed the sound itself. May 1, 1858
I find many apparent young bullfrogs in the shaded pools on the Island Neck. Probably R. fontinalis. May 1, 1858
Have we the Viola lanceolata? May 1, 1853
Looking from Clamshell over Hosmer's meadow, about half covered with water, see hundreds of turtles, chiefly picta, now first lying out in numbers on the brown pieces of meadow which rise above the water. . . . All up and down our river meadows their backs are shining in the sun to-day. It is a turtle day. May 1, 1859
Two sternothaeruses which I catch emit no scent yet. May 1, 1858
Snakes are now common on warm banks. May 1, 1854
See a little snake on the dry twigs and chips in the sun, near the arbutus, apparently Coluber amamus. May 1, 1859
First notice the ring of the toad, as I am crossing the Common in front of the meeting-house. There is a cool and breezy south wind, and the ring of the first toad leaks into the general stream of sound, unnoticed by most, . . .. The bell was ringing for town meeting, and every one heard it, but It is a sound from amid the waves of the aerial sea, that breaks on our ears with the surf of the air, a sound that is almost breathed with the wind. May 1, 1857
The toads are so numerous, some sitting on all sides, that their ring is a continuous sound throughout the day and night, . . .as uninterrupted to the ear as the rippling breeze or the circulations of the air itself, for when it dies away on one side it swells again on another, and if it should suddenly cease all men would exclaim at the pause, though they might not have noticed the sound itself. May 1, 1858
I find many apparent young bullfrogs in the shaded pools on the Island Neck. Probably R. fontinalis. May 1, 1858
A warm and pleasant day, reminding me of the 3d of April when the R. halecina waked up so suddenly and generally, and now, as then, apparently a new, allied frog is almost equally wide awake, — the one of last evening (and before). May 1, 1858
I do not see a single R. halecina. What has become of the thousands with which the meadows swarmed a month ago? They have given place to the R. palustris. Only their spawn, mostly hatched and dissolving, remains, and I expect to detect the spawn of the palustris soon. May 1, 1858
I do not see a single R. halecina. What has become of the thousands with which the meadows swarmed a month ago? They have given place to the R. palustris. Only their spawn, mostly hatched and dissolving, remains, and I expect to detect the spawn of the palustris soon. May 1, 1858
As I sit above the Island, waiting for the Rana palustris to croak, I see many minnows from three quarters to two inches long, but mostly about one inch. They have that distinct black line along each side from eye to tail on a somewhat transparent brownish body. May 1, 1858
The inhabitants of the river are peculiarly wide awake this warm day, — fishes, frogs, and toads, from time to time, — and quite often I hear a tremendous rush of a pickerel after his prey. They are peculiarly active, maybe after the Rana palustris, now breeding. It is a perfect frog and toad day. May 1, 1858
The inhabitants of the river are peculiarly wide awake this warm day, — fishes, frogs, and toads, from time to time, — and quite often I hear a tremendous rush of a pickerel after his prey. They are peculiarly active, maybe after the Rana palustris, now breeding. It is a perfect frog and toad day. May 1, 1858
I get sight of ten
or twelve Rana palustris
and catch three of them.
May 1, 1858
Leaving the woods I hear the hooting of an owl, which sounds very much like a clown calling to his team. May 1, 1852
*****
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Voice of the Barred Owl
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Musk Turtle (Sternothaerus odoratus )
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Painted Turtle (Emys picta)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Green Frog in Spring (Rana Fontinalis)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Pickerel frog (Rana palustris)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Ring of Toads
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Insect Hatches in Spring
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Violets
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Viburnum lentago
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Red Maple
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The White Pines
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Myrtle-bird
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Oven-bird
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Black and White Creeper
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the ruby-crowned or crested wren
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Field Sparrow
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Chewink (Rufous-sided Towhee)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Pigeon Woodpecker
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Spring sounds. Woodpeckers Tapping
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Partridge
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The American Crow
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Osprey
May 1, 2024
If you make the least correctobservation of nature this year,you will have occasion to repeat itwith illustrations the next,and the season and life itself is prolonged.
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry ThoreauA Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, May 1"A book, each page written in its own season,out-of-doors, in its own locality.”~edited, assembled and rewritten by zphx © 2009-2022
We have, then, flowers and the song of birds before the woods leaf out, – like poetry. See
Spring flowers flash out,
the blossom precedes the leaf.
So with poetry.
April 28, 1852
There is an unaccountable sweetness as of flowers in the air, — a true May day. See May 6, 1855 ("that unaccountable fugacious fragrance, as of all flowers, bursting forth in air,. . .the general fragrance of the year.. . . It surpasses all particular fragrances."); May 16, 1854 ("The earth is all fragrant as one flower. ”) May 16, 1852 (“The whole earth is fragrant as a bouquet held to your nose. A fine, delicious fragrance, which will come to the senses only when it will.”).
It is the red maple’s reign now. See April 24, 1857 ("I see the now red crescents of the red maples in their prime . . . above the gray stems."); April 28, 1855 ("The red maples, now in bloom, are quite handsome at a distance over the flooded meadow beyond Peter’s. The abundant wholesome gray of the trunks and stems beneath surmounted by the red or scarlet crescents.”) April 26, 1855 ("The blossoms of the red maple (some a yellowish green) are now most generally conspicuous and handsome scarlet crescents over the swamps. “);May 1, 1855 ("The maples of Potter’s Swamp, seen now nearly half a mile off against the russet or reddish hillside, are a very dull scarlet, like Spanish brown . . .”); May 7, 1854 (A spreading red maple in bloom, seen against a favorable background, as water looking down from a hillside, presenting not a dense mass of color but an open, graceful and ethereal top of light crimson or scarlet . . .”). See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Red Maple
The sugar maple keys (or buds?) hang down one inch, quite. See May 6, 1860 ("Maple keys an inch and a half long."); May 10, 1852 ("Are those the young keys of sugar maples that I see?"); June 2, 1856 ("White maple keys conspicuous.”)
As we sat on the steep hillside south of Nut Meadow Brook Crossing, we noticed a remarkable whirlwind. See April 7, 1860 ("As we were ascending the hill in the road beyond College Meadow, we saw . . . a small whirlwind. . .taking up a large body of withered leaves beneath it, which were whirled about with a great rustling and carried forward with it into the meadow, frightening some hens there.”); December 11, 1858 ("A “swirl,” applied to leaves suddenly caught up by a sort of whirlwind, is a good word enough, methinks.")
The climbing fern is persistent, i. e. retains its greenness still, though now partly brown and withered. CLIMBING FERN, or Hartford Fern (Lygodium palmatum) . A species of fern found, rarely, from Massachusetts to Kentucky and southward, remarkable for climbing or twining around weeds and shrubs ~ Wikisource. See October 2, 1859 (“The climbing fern is perfectly fresh, — and apparently therefore an evergreen, — the more easily found amid the withered cinnamon and flowering ferns.”); November 30, 1851 (“The Lygodium palmatum is quite abundant on that side of the swamp, twining round the goldenrods”)
As we sat on the steep hillside south of Nut Meadow Brook Crossing, we noticed a remarkable whirlwind. See April 7, 1860 ("As we were ascending the hill in the road beyond College Meadow, we saw . . . a small whirlwind. . .taking up a large body of withered leaves beneath it, which were whirled about with a great rustling and carried forward with it into the meadow, frightening some hens there.”); December 11, 1858 ("A “swirl,” applied to leaves suddenly caught up by a sort of whirlwind, is a good word enough, methinks.")
The climbing fern is persistent, i. e. retains its greenness still, though now partly brown and withered. CLIMBING FERN, or Hartford Fern (Lygodium palmatum) . A species of fern found, rarely, from Massachusetts to Kentucky and southward, remarkable for climbing or twining around weeds and shrubs ~ Wikisource. See October 2, 1859 (“The climbing fern is perfectly fresh, — and apparently therefore an evergreen, — the more easily found amid the withered cinnamon and flowering ferns.”); November 30, 1851 (“The Lygodium palmatum is quite abundant on that side of the swamp, twining round the goldenrods”)
Plucked the Arum triphyllum, three inches high, with its acrid corm. See May 19, 1851 ("Find the Arum triphyllum and the nodding trillium, or wake-robin, in Conant's Swamp.")f
Apparently a skunk has picked up what I took to be the dead shrew in the Goose Pond Path. See July 31, 1856 ("Another short-tailed shrew dead in the wood-path."); July 12, 1856 (“I have found them thus three or four times before. . . .Have I not commonly noticed them dead after rain?”)
I think I heard an oven-bird just now, - wicher wicher whicher wich. See April 27, 1854 (“Hear a faint sort of oven-bird's (?) note.”); May 4, 1855 (“In cut woods a small thrush, with crown inclining to rufous, tail foxy, and edges of wings dark-ash; clear white beneath. I think the golden-crowned?”); May 7, 1852 (“The first oven-bird.”); May 7, 1853 (“The woods now begin to ring with the woodland note of the oven-bird.”); May 9, 1857 (“Golden-crowned thrush note. ”); May 10, 1858 (“As I paddle along, hear the Maryland yellow-throat, the bobolink, the oven-bird, and the yellow-throated vireo.”); May 12, 1855 (“Hear an oven-bird.”); May 13, 1856 (“Also the oven-bird sings.”) See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Oven-bird.
Snakes are now common on warm banks. See April 20, 1854 ("A striped snake on a warm, sunny bank.")
A little snake (Coluber punctatus) -- See Snakes of Massachusetts ringneck snake. Compare HDT’s other "Coluber amaenus” snakes, conforming generally to the redbelly snake (Storeria occipitomaculata occipitomaculata): October 11, 1856 (“It is apparently Coluber amaenus, the red snake. Brown above, light-red beneath, about eight inches long . . . It is a conspicuous light red beneath, then a bluish-gray line along the sides, and above this brown with a line of lighter or yellowish brown down the middle of the back.”); September 9, 1857 ("It was a dark ash-color above, with darker longitudinal lines, light brick-red beneath. There were three triangular buff spots just behind the head, one above and one each side. It is apparently Coluber amaenus”); April 29, 1858 (“A little brown snake with blackish marks along each side of back and a pink belly. Was it not the Coluber amaenus?”)
It is a turtle day. See August 28, 1856 ("Has not the great world existed for them as much as for you?”) See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Painted Turtle
Two sternothaeruses which I catch emit no scent yet. See April 1, 1858 ("I see six Sternothaerus odoratus in the river thus early. . . .. I took up and smelt of five of these, and they emitted none of their peculiar scent!”); June 16, 1858 (“Two sternothaerus which I smell of have no scent to-day.”) See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Musk Turtle (Sternothaerus odoratus )
Leaving the woods I hear the hooting of an owl, which sounds very much like a clown calling to his team. See November 18, 1851 (“ Now at sundown I hear the hooting of an owl, — hoo hoo hoo, hoorer hoo. It sounds like the hooting of an idiot or a maniac broke loose”)
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