Monday, May 16, 2016

A Book of the Seasons: May 16 (bellwort, columbine, violets, fragance, full moon, this genial earth)


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


So clear bright and fresh
the whole earth is one flower
genial to man.
May 16, 1854

Sessile-leaved bellwort 
turn up the drooping flower
a six-pointed star.

May 16, 2023

It is a splendid day, so clear and bright and fresh; the warmth of the air and the bright tender verdure putting forth on all sides make an impression of luxuriance and genialness, so perfectly fresh. May 16, 1854

Trees generally leafing. May 16, 1855

The rich crimson leaf-buds of the grape are rapidly unfolding, scattered along the vine; and the various leaves unfolding are flower-like, and taken together are more interesting than any flower. May 16, 1854

Black willow leafs. Bass leaf is an inch over; probably began about the 14th. Panicled andromeda leafed in some places, probably a day or two. Grape buds begin to open. Swamp white oak leaf, probably yesterday. Silky cornel leaf, two days or three. May 16, 1855

The S. Torreyana catkins are so reddish that at a little distance it looks some what like the common black cherry now leafing. May 16, 1858


The meadows are now mostly bare, the grass showing itself above the water that is left, and an unusual number of swallows are flying low over it. May 16, 1857

Think how thoroughly the trees are thus explored by various birds. The whole North American forest is being thus explored for insect food now by several hundred species of birds. May 16, 1860

I see a small creeper hopping along the branches of the oaks and pines, ever turning this way and that as it hops, making various angles with the bough; then flies across to another bough, or to the base of another tree, and traces that up, zigzag and prying into the crevices. May 16, 1860

A golden-crowned thrush keeps the trunks of the young trees between me and it as it hops away. May 16, 1860

A golden-crowned thrush hops quite near. It is quite small, about the size of the creeper, with the upper part of its breast thickly and distinctly pencilled with black, a tawny head; and utters now only a sharp cluck for a chip. May 16, 1858

Hear a tanager to-day, and one was seen yesterday. May 16, 1859 


Hear a bobolink and kingbird. May 16, 1859. See again the warbler of yesterday. . . . Its note, with little variation, is like twit twit, twit twit, twitter twitter twe. It must be the parti-colored warbler. May 16, 1858

Now that the warblers are here in such numbers is the very time on another account to study them, for the leaf buds are generally but just expanding, and if you look toward the light you can see every bird that flits through a small grove, but a few weeks hence the leaves will conceal them. May 16, 1860

See and hear a redstart, the rhythm of whose strain is tse'-tse, tse'-tse, tse', emphasizing the last syllable of all and not ending with the common tsear. May 16, 1858

Look into several red-wing blackbirds' nests which are now being built, but no eggs yet. They are generally hung between two twigs, say of button-bush. May 16, 1854

A woodcock, near river. May 16, 1855

A green bittern with its dark-green coat and crest, sitting watchful, goes off with a limping peetweet flight. May 16, 1855

At eve the first spark of a nighthawk. May 16, 1859

Heard the whip-poor-will this evening. May 16, 1851. The whip-poor-will heard. May 16, 1858

A hummingbird yesterday came into the next house and was caught. Flew about our parlor to-day and tasted Sophia's flowers. In some lights you saw none of the colors of its throat. In others, in the shade the throat was a clear bright scarlet, but in the sun it glowed with splendid metallic, fiery reflections about the neck and throat. May 16, 1858

I hear a hummingbird about the columbines. May 16, 1852

Methinks the columbine here is more remarkable for growing out of the seams of the rocks than the saxifrage, and perhaps better deserves the latter name.[ from Latin, feminine off saxifragus breaking rocks, from saxum rock + frangere to break] It is now in its prime, ornamental for nature's rockwork. It is a beautiful sight to see large clusters of splendid scarlet and yellow flowers growing out of a seam in the side of this gray cliff. May 16, 1852

The sessile-leaved bellwort, with three or four delicate pale-green leaves with reflexed edges, on a tender-looking stalk, the single modest-colored flower gracefully drooping, neat, with a fugacious, richly spiced fragrance, facing the ground, the dry leaves, as if unworthy to face the heavens. It is a beautiful sight, a pleasing discovery,  the first of the season, -- growing in a little straggling company, in damp woods or swamps. When you turn up the drooping flower, its petals make a perfect geometrical figure, a six-pointed star. May 16, 1852

 To Uvularia perfoliata at Flint's Pond . . . which did not show itself at all on the 3d, is now conspicuous, and one is open but will not shed pollen before to-morrow. It has shot up about ten inches in one case and bloomed within thirteen days!! May 16, 1858

The Viola ovata is now very common, but rather indistinct in the grass, in both high and low land, in the sod where there is yet but little grass. May 16, 1852

I observe some very pale blue Viola cuculata in the meadows. May 16, 1852

Rhodora, trillium, and yellow violets yesterday at least. May 16, 1853

The earth reflects the heavens in violets. 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. May 16, 1852

We smell the fresher and cooler air from where the storm has passed.  May 16, 1853

A sweet scent fills the air from the expanding leafets. May 16, 1854

The earth is all fragrant as one flower. And bobolinks tinkle in the air. Nature now is perfectly genial to man. May 16, 1854 

A splendid full moon to-night. May 16, 1851

In the moonlight night what intervals are created! . . . There may be only three objects, — myself, a pine tree, and the moon, nearly equidistant. May 16, 1851

*****

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

*****

Trees generally leafing. See May 17, 1852 ("The woods putting forth new leaves; it is a memorable season. So hopeful! These young leaves have the beauty of flowers”)

An unusual number of swallows are flying low. See April 29, 1854 (" The barn swallows are very numerous, flying low over the water in the rain.”); April 30, 1855 ("circling about and flying . . .about six inches above the water, — it was cloudy and almost raining”); April 30, 1856 ("I was surprised by the great number of swallows—white-bellied and barn swallows and perhaps republican — flying round and round, or skimming very low over the meadow. . .There were a thousand or more of swallows, and I think that they had recently arrived together on their migration."); May 11, 1856 ("There are many swallows circling low over the river behind Monroe’s, — bank swallows, barn, republican, chimney, and white-bellied. These are all circling together a foot or two over the water, passing within ten or twelve feet of me in my boat."); May 20, 1858 (“Hundreds of swallows are now skimming close over the river, at its broadest part, where it is shallow and runs the swiftest, just below the Island”); July 21, 1860 ("Now, after the rain, the sun coming forth brightly, the swallows in numbers are skimming low over the river just below the junction.”)

I see a small creeper.
See November 16, 1859 ("It begins at the base, and creeps rapidly upward by starts, adhering close to the bark and shifting a little from side to side often till near the top, then suddenly darts off downward to the base of another tree, where it repeats the same course.”}

The leaf buds are generally but just expanding, and if you look toward the light you can see every bird that flits through a small grove See May 15, 1859 ("Now, when the warblers begin to come in numbers with the leafing of the trees, the woods are so open that you can easily see them")

Hear a tanager to-day, and one was seen yesterday.
See May 13, 1853 (“Methinks I hear and see the tanager now.”); May 15, 1856 ("As I sat by the Riordan crossing, thought it was the tanager I heard?"); May 18, 1851("The scarlet tanagers are come.”). May 19, 1856 (“The tanager is now heard plainly and frequently.”) See also A Book of Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Scarlet Tanager


Hear a bobolink and kingbird. See May 16, 1854 ("The earth is all fragrant as one flower. And bobolinks tinkle in the air.”) See also May 10, 1853 ("New days, then, have come. . . now made perfect by the twittering of the kingbird and the whistle of the oriole amid the elms,, - if not already the bobolink.")

A green bittern with its dark-green coat and crest goes off with a limping peetweet flight.
See August 31, 1858 (“At Goose Pond I scare up a small green bittern. It plods along low, a few feet over the surface, with limping flight, and alights on a slender water-killed stump, and voids its excrement just as it starts again, as if to lighten itself.”) and note to July 30, 1856 ("A green bittern crosses in my rear with heavy flapping flight . . . looks deep slate-blue above, yellow legs, whitish streak along throat and breast.”)

At eve the first spark of a nighthawk.
See May 17, 1853 ("I hear the first unquestionable nighthawk squeak and see him circling far off high above the earth. It is now about 5 o'clock p. m");; May 23, 1857 ("and at evening I hear the spark of a nighthawk."); May 25, 1852 ("First nighthawks squeak and boom."); See also A Book of Seasons, by Henry Thoreau,, the Nighthawk

A hummingbird in some lights the shade the throat was a clear bright scarlet, but in the sun it glowed with splendid metallic, fiery reflections. See May 17, 1856 (" A splendid male hummingbird . . . This golden-green gem. Its burnished back looks as if covered with green scales dusted with gold. . . . turning toward me that splendid ruby on its breast, that glowing ruby.") May 15, 1855("Hear a hummingbird in the garden."); May 16, 1852 ("I hear a hummingbird about the columbines.").

Methinks the columbine here is more remarkable for growing out of the seams of the rocks than the saxifrage, and perhaps better deserves the latter name
. . .[ Latin, saxifragus breaking rocks, from saxum rock + frangere to break]. See May 12, 1855 ("Under Lee’s Cliff, . . . am surprised to find some pale-yellow columbines.”)

To Uvularia perfoliata at Flint's Pond . . . which did not show itself at all on the 3d. See May 3, 1858 ("See no signs of the Uvularia perfoliata yet; apparently will not bloom within ten days")

In the moonlight night there may be only three objects. See September 22, 1854 (“By moonlight all is simple. We are enabled to erect ourselves, our minds, on account of the fewness of objects. We are no longer distracted. It is simple as bread and water.”)

There are three objects  --
 the moon a pine tree and me --
in the moonlight night
May 16, 1851
Sessile-leaved bellwort


If you make the least correct 
observation of nature this year,
 you will have occasion to repeat it
 with illustrations the next, 
and the season and life itself is prolonged.

May 15  <<<<< May 16  >>>>>  May 17

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, May 16
A 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 ©  2009-2023

https://tinyurl.com/HDT16May


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