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
The luxuriant and rapid growth of this hardy and valuable grass is always surprising. It makes the revolution of the seasons seem a rapid whirl . . . At sight of this deep and dense field all vibrating with motion and light, winter recedes many degrees in my memory . . . The season of grass, now everywhere green and luxuriant.
Winter recedes in
memory by many degrees
this season of grass
luxuriant growth
vibrating motion and light
now everywhere green
such bountifulness
suggests the harvest and fall –
seasons' rapid whirl.
Wading through this white
spruce swamp just to look at leaves –
Kalmia glauca!
May 26, 1855
At the same season
with this haze of buds also
comes the hazy air.
May 26, 1857
The rhodora now
in its perfection -- brilliant
islands of color.
May 26, 1859
May 26, 2013
Swamp-pink leaf before lambkill. May 26, 1855
Pink azalea in garden. May 26, 1857
Our pink azalea May 26, 1860
The lambkill is just beginning to be flower-budded. May 26, 1855
The rhodora at Ledum Swamp is now in its perfection, brilliant islands of color. May 26, 1859
To my surprise the Kalmia glauca almost all out; A very fine flower, the more interesting for being early. The leaf just after the lambkill. I was wading through this white spruce swamp just to look at the leaves. The more purple rhodora rose here and there above the small andromeda, so that I did not at first distinguish the K. glauca. When I did, probably my eyes at first confounded it with the lambkill, and I did not remember that this would not bloom for some time. There were a few leaves just faintly started. But at last my eyes and attention both were caught by those handsome umbels of the K. glauca, rising, one to three together, at the end of bare twigs, six inches or more above the level of the andromeda. May 26, 1855
Andromeda Polifolia out, how long? May 26, 1859
A lady's-slipper. At Cliffs, no doubt, before. May 26, 1857
The tender white-downy stems of the meadow saxifrage, seen toward the westering sun, are very conspicuous and thick in the meadows now. May 26, 1859
Tall swamp huckleberry just budded to bloom. May 26, 1859
Eleocharis tenuis in bloom, apparently the earliest eleocharis. May 26, 1859
Eriophorum vaginatum, how long? May 26, 1859
Ledum out apparently two or three days. May 26, 1859
Do not detect the scheuchzeria there yet. May 26, 1859
The reddish leaves (and calyx) of the Vaccinium vacillans, just leafed, are interesting and peculiar now, perhaps more or less crimson. May 26, 1859
Ascendant potentilla abundant, how long? May 26, 1859
Geranium (how long?), behind Bittern Cliff, and wild pink. May 26, 1859
Mountain-ash a day; also horse-chestnut the same. Beach plum well out, several days at least. May 26, 1857
On those carpinus trees which have fertile flowers, the sterile are effete and drop off. May 26, 1857
Some of the earliest willows about warm edges of woods are gone to seed and downy. May 26, 1857
Early willow on right beyond Hubbard’s Bridge leafed since 12th; say 19th or generally before button-bush. May 26, 1855
Pink azalea. See May 31, 1853 ("I am going in search of the Azalea nudiflora.") See also May 29, 1855 ("Azalea nudiflora in garden"); May 25, 1856 ("Azalea nudiflora in garden");May 19, 1859 (“Our Azalea nudiflora flowers.”)
The tender white-downy stems of the meadow saxifrage, seen toward the westering sun, are very conspicuous and thick in the meadows now. May 26, 1859
Tall swamp huckleberry just budded to bloom. May 26, 1859
Eleocharis tenuis in bloom, apparently the earliest eleocharis. May 26, 1859
Eriophorum vaginatum, how long? May 26, 1859
Ledum out apparently two or three days. May 26, 1859
Do not detect the scheuchzeria there yet. May 26, 1859
The reddish leaves (and calyx) of the Vaccinium vacillans, just leafed, are interesting and peculiar now, perhaps more or less crimson. May 26, 1859
Ascendant potentilla abundant, how long? May 26, 1859
Geranium (how long?), behind Bittern Cliff, and wild pink. May 26, 1859
Mountain-ash a day; also horse-chestnut the same. Beach plum well out, several days at least. May 26, 1857
On those carpinus trees which have fertile flowers, the sterile are effete and drop off. May 26, 1857
Some of the earliest willows about warm edges of woods are gone to seed and downy. May 26, 1857
Early willow on right beyond Hubbard’s Bridge leafed since 12th; say 19th or generally before button-bush. May 26, 1855
Button-bush would commonly be said to begin to leaf. May 26, 1855
Nemopanthes, apparently several days, and leaf say before tupelo. May 26, 1855
White spruce pollen one or two days at least, and now begins to leaf. May 26, 1855
Pitch pine pollen at Lee's. May 26, 1859
Juniperus repens pollen, how long ? May 26, 1859
The oaks are in the gray, or a little more, and the silvery leafets of the deciduous trees invest the woods like a permanent mist. May 26, 1857
Very interesting now are the red tents of expanding- oak leaves, as you go through sprout-lands, — the crimson velvet of the black oak and the more pinkish white oak. The salmon and pinkish-red canopies or umbrellas of the white oak are particularly interesting. May 26, 1857
White oak pollen. May 26, 1855
The oaks apparently shed pollen about four days later than last year; may be owing to the recent cold weather. May 26, 1855
The very sudden expansion of the great hickory buds, umbrella-wise. May 26, 1857
At the same season with this haze of buds comes also the kindred haziness of the air. May 26, 1857
It is very hazy after a sultry morning, but the wind is getting east and cool. May 26, 1857
Overcast, rain-threatening; wind northeast and cool. May 26, 1860
Again a strong cold wind from the north by west, turning up the new and tender pads. May 26, 1855
The young white lily pads are now red and crimson above, while greenish beneath. May 26, 1855
The scent of the sweet-fern, etc. May 26, 1859
Interrupted fern pollen the 23d; may have been a day or two. May 26, 1855
Interrupted fern pollen . May 26, 1859
Cinnamon fern to-day. May 26, 1855
The dicksonia fern is one foot high, but not fairly unfolded. May 26, 1859
Now is the time to walk in low, damp maple copses and see the tender, luxuriant foliage that has pushed up, mushroom-like, before the sun has come to harden it -- the ferns of various species and in various stages, some now in their most perfect and beautiful condition, completely unfolded, tender and delicate, but perfect in all their details, far more than any lace work - the most elaborate leaf we have. Unfolding with such mathematical precision in the free air, forming an almost uninterrupted counter of green leaves a foot or two above the damp ground. May 26, 1853
Checkerberry shoots one inch high. May 26, 1855
I perceive no new life in the pipes (Equisetum hyemale), except that some are flower-budded at top and may open in a week, and on pulling them up I find a new one just springing from the base at root. The flower—bud is apparently on those dry-looking last year’s plants which I thought had no life in them. May 26, 1855
Trillium pollen maybe several days. Arum, how long? May 26, 1855
Two-leaved Solomon’s-seal pollen not long in most places. May 26, 1855
Ranunculus recurvatus at Corner Spring up several days at least; pollen. May 26, 1855
The Ranunculus Purshii in that large pool in the Holden Swamp Woods makes quite a show at a little distance now. May 26, 1855
Ranunculus acris and bulbosus pollen apparently about two or three days. --------
Comandra pollen apparently two days there. May 26, 1855
Arenaria serpyllifolia and scleranthus, how long? May 26, 1855
Nightshade dark-green shoots are eight inches long. May 26, 1855
The red choke-berry not in bloom, while the black is, for a day or more at least. May 26, 1857
I think that the red-fruited choke-berry has shed pollen about a day, though I have not examined. The leaves are a little downy beneath and the common peduncle and the pedicels stout and quite hairy, while the black-fruited is smooth and gloossy. May 26, 1855
Already the mouse-ear down begins to blow in the fields and whiten the grass, together with the bluets. May 26, 1855
Lupine in house from Fair Haven Hill, and probably in field. May 26, 1855
Now, at last, all leaves dare unfold, and twigs begin to shoot. May 26, 1857
Some young red oaks have already grown eighteen inches, i. e. within a fortnight, before their leaves have two-thirds expanded. , , , They are properly called shoots. May 26, 1854
Melons have peeped out. May 26, 1860
The air is full of the odor of apple blossoms. May 26, 1852
The meadow smells sweet as you go along low places in the road at sundown. May 26, 1852
The air is full of terebinthine odors to-day, May 26, 1859
Cherry-birds. May 26, 1859
A purple finch's nest in one of our firs. May 26, 1859
Minott heard a loon go laughing over this morning. May 26, 1857
The vireo days have fairly begun. They are now heard amid the elm-tops. May 26, 1857
Roadside near Britton's camp, see a grosbeak, apparently female of the rose-breasted, quite tame, as usual, brown above, with black head and a white streak over the eye, a less distinct one beneath it, two faint bars on wings, dirty-white bill, white breast, dark spotted or streaked, and from time [to time] utters a very sharp chirp of alarm or interrogation as it peers through the twigs at me. May 26, 1857
Wood pewee, May 26, 1857
I hear the pea-wai, the tender note. May 26, 1852
Do I not hear the nuthatch note in the swamp? May 26, 1859
See to-day a larger peetweet like bird on the shore, with longer, perhaps more slender, wings, black or blackish without white spots; all white beneath; and when it goes off it flies higher. Is it not the Totanus solitarius, which Brown found at Goose Pond? May 26, 1855
River five eighths of an inch below summer level. May 26, 1860
Walking home from surveying, the fields are just beginning to be reddened with sorrel. May 26, 1852
I see the common small reddish butterflies. May 26, 1857
A mosquito. May 26, 1855
Cows in water, so warm has it got to be. May 26, 1859
See a flock of cowbirds, the first I have seen. May 26, 1859
What that neat song-sparrow-like nest of grass merely, in the wet sphagnum under the andromeda there, with three eggs, -- in that very secluded place, surrounded by the watery swamp and andromeda? May 26, 1855
At the screech owl’s nest I now find two young slumbering, almost uniformly gray above, about five inches long, with little dark-grayish tufts for incipient horns?May 26, 1855
The partridge which on the 12th had left three cold eggs covered up with oak leaves is now sitting on eight. She apparently deserted her nest for a time and covered it. May 26, 1855
Returning, I lay on my back again in Conant’s thick wood. Saw a redstart over my head there; black with a sort of brick red on sides of breast, spot on wing, and under root of tail. May 26, 1855
At Abel Brooks's Hollow, hear the wood thrush. May 26, 1857
In the meanwhile hear another note, very smart and somewhat sprayey, rasping, tshrip tshrip tshrip tshrip, or five or six times with equal force each time. The bird hops near, directly over my head. It is black, with a large white mark forward on wings and a fiery orange throat, above and below eye, and line on crown, yellowish beneath, white vent, forked tail, dusky legs and bill; holds its wings (which are light beneath) loosely. It inclines to examine about the lower branches of the white pines or midway up. The Blackbumian warbler very plainly; whose note Nuttall knows nothing about. May 26, 1855
As I am going down the footpath from Britton's camp to the spring, I start a pair of nighthawks (they had the white on the wing) from amid the dry leaves at the base of a bush, a bunch of sprouts, and away they flitted in zigzag noiseless flight a few rods through the sprout-land, dexterously avoiding the twigs, uttering a faint hollow what, as if made by merely closing the bill, and one alighted flat on a stump. May 26, 1857
Nemopanthes, apparently several days, and leaf say before tupelo. May 26, 1855
White spruce pollen one or two days at least, and now begins to leaf. May 26, 1855
Pitch pine pollen at Lee's. May 26, 1859
Juniperus repens pollen, how long ? May 26, 1859
The oaks are in the gray, or a little more, and the silvery leafets of the deciduous trees invest the woods like a permanent mist. May 26, 1857
Very interesting now are the red tents of expanding- oak leaves, as you go through sprout-lands, — the crimson velvet of the black oak and the more pinkish white oak. The salmon and pinkish-red canopies or umbrellas of the white oak are particularly interesting. May 26, 1857
White oak pollen. May 26, 1855
The oaks apparently shed pollen about four days later than last year; may be owing to the recent cold weather. May 26, 1855
The very sudden expansion of the great hickory buds, umbrella-wise. May 26, 1857
At the same season with this haze of buds comes also the kindred haziness of the air. May 26, 1857
It is very hazy after a sultry morning, but the wind is getting east and cool. May 26, 1857
Overcast, rain-threatening; wind northeast and cool. May 26, 1860
Again a strong cold wind from the north by west, turning up the new and tender pads. May 26, 1855
The young white lily pads are now red and crimson above, while greenish beneath. May 26, 1855
The scent of the sweet-fern, etc. May 26, 1859
Interrupted fern pollen the 23d; may have been a day or two. May 26, 1855
Interrupted fern pollen . May 26, 1859
Cinnamon fern to-day. May 26, 1855
The dicksonia fern is one foot high, but not fairly unfolded. May 26, 1859
Now is the time to walk in low, damp maple copses and see the tender, luxuriant foliage that has pushed up, mushroom-like, before the sun has come to harden it -- the ferns of various species and in various stages, some now in their most perfect and beautiful condition, completely unfolded, tender and delicate, but perfect in all their details, far more than any lace work - the most elaborate leaf we have. Unfolding with such mathematical precision in the free air, forming an almost uninterrupted counter of green leaves a foot or two above the damp ground. May 26, 1853
Checkerberry shoots one inch high. May 26, 1855
I perceive no new life in the pipes (Equisetum hyemale), except that some are flower-budded at top and may open in a week, and on pulling them up I find a new one just springing from the base at root. The flower—bud is apparently on those dry-looking last year’s plants which I thought had no life in them. May 26, 1855
Trillium pollen maybe several days. Arum, how long? May 26, 1855
Two-leaved Solomon’s-seal pollen not long in most places. May 26, 1855
Ranunculus recurvatus at Corner Spring up several days at least; pollen. May 26, 1855
The Ranunculus Purshii in that large pool in the Holden Swamp Woods makes quite a show at a little distance now. May 26, 1855
Ranunculus acris and bulbosus pollen apparently about two or three days. --------
Comandra pollen apparently two days there. May 26, 1855
Arenaria serpyllifolia and scleranthus, how long? May 26, 1855
Nightshade dark-green shoots are eight inches long. May 26, 1855
The red choke-berry not in bloom, while the black is, for a day or more at least. May 26, 1857
I think that the red-fruited choke-berry has shed pollen about a day, though I have not examined. The leaves are a little downy beneath and the common peduncle and the pedicels stout and quite hairy, while the black-fruited is smooth and gloossy. May 26, 1855
Already the mouse-ear down begins to blow in the fields and whiten the grass, together with the bluets. May 26, 1855
Lupine in house from Fair Haven Hill, and probably in field. May 26, 1855
Now, at last, all leaves dare unfold, and twigs begin to shoot. May 26, 1857
Some young red oaks have already grown eighteen inches, i. e. within a fortnight, before their leaves have two-thirds expanded. , , , They are properly called shoots. May 26, 1854
Melons have peeped out. May 26, 1860
The air is full of the odor of apple blossoms. May 26, 1852
The meadow smells sweet as you go along low places in the road at sundown. May 26, 1852
The air is full of terebinthine odors to-day, May 26, 1859
Cherry-birds. May 26, 1859
A purple finch's nest in one of our firs. May 26, 1859
Minott heard a loon go laughing over this morning. May 26, 1857
The vireo days have fairly begun. They are now heard amid the elm-tops. May 26, 1857
Roadside near Britton's camp, see a grosbeak, apparently female of the rose-breasted, quite tame, as usual, brown above, with black head and a white streak over the eye, a less distinct one beneath it, two faint bars on wings, dirty-white bill, white breast, dark spotted or streaked, and from time [to time] utters a very sharp chirp of alarm or interrogation as it peers through the twigs at me. May 26, 1857
Wood pewee, May 26, 1857
I hear the pea-wai, the tender note. May 26, 1852
Do I not hear the nuthatch note in the swamp? May 26, 1859
See to-day a larger peetweet like bird on the shore, with longer, perhaps more slender, wings, black or blackish without white spots; all white beneath; and when it goes off it flies higher. Is it not the Totanus solitarius, which Brown found at Goose Pond? May 26, 1855
River five eighths of an inch below summer level. May 26, 1860
Walking home from surveying, the fields are just beginning to be reddened with sorrel. May 26, 1852
I see the common small reddish butterflies. May 26, 1857
A mosquito. May 26, 1855
Cows in water, so warm has it got to be. May 26, 1859
See a flock of cowbirds, the first I have seen. May 26, 1859
What that neat song-sparrow-like nest of grass merely, in the wet sphagnum under the andromeda there, with three eggs, -- in that very secluded place, surrounded by the watery swamp and andromeda? May 26, 1855
At the screech owl’s nest I now find two young slumbering, almost uniformly gray above, about five inches long, with little dark-grayish tufts for incipient horns?May 26, 1855
The partridge which on the 12th had left three cold eggs covered up with oak leaves is now sitting on eight. She apparently deserted her nest for a time and covered it. May 26, 1855
Returning, I lay on my back again in Conant’s thick wood. Saw a redstart over my head there; black with a sort of brick red on sides of breast, spot on wing, and under root of tail. May 26, 1855
At Abel Brooks's Hollow, hear the wood thrush. May 26, 1857
In the meanwhile hear another note, very smart and somewhat sprayey, rasping, tshrip tshrip tshrip tshrip, or five or six times with equal force each time. The bird hops near, directly over my head. It is black, with a large white mark forward on wings and a fiery orange throat, above and below eye, and line on crown, yellowish beneath, white vent, forked tail, dusky legs and bill; holds its wings (which are light beneath) loosely. It inclines to examine about the lower branches of the white pines or midway up. The Blackbumian warbler very plainly; whose note Nuttall knows nothing about. May 26, 1855
As I am going down the footpath from Britton's camp to the spring, I start a pair of nighthawks (they had the white on the wing) from amid the dry leaves at the base of a bush, a bunch of sprouts, and away they flitted in zigzag noiseless flight a few rods through the sprout-land, dexterously avoiding the twigs, uttering a faint hollow what, as if made by merely closing the bill, and one alighted flat on a stump. May 26, 1857
Carex stipata? Close-spiked sedge in Clamshell Meadow some time. May 26, 1855
Rye four feet high. The luxuriant and rapid growth of this hardy and valuable grass is always surprising. It makes the revolution of the seasons seem a rapid whirl. How quickly and densely it clothes the earth! Thus early it suggests the harvest and fall. May 26, 1854
At sight of this deep and dense field all vibrating with motion and light, winter recedes many degrees in my memory. This the early queen of grasses. It always impresses us at this season, with a sense of genialness and bountifulness. May 26, 1854
Grasses universally shoot up like grain now. Pastures look as if they were mowing-land. The season of grass, now everywhere green and luxuriant. May 26, 1854
To-night I hear many crickets. They have commenced their song. They bring in the summer. May 26, 1852
At sight of this deep and dense field all vibrating with motion and light, winter recedes many degrees in my memory. This the early queen of grasses. It always impresses us at this season, with a sense of genialness and bountifulness. May 26, 1854
Grasses universally shoot up like grain now. Pastures look as if they were mowing-land. The season of grass, now everywhere green and luxuriant. May 26, 1854
To-night I hear many crickets. They have commenced their song. They bring in the summer. May 26, 1852
***
May 26, 2023
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Reminiscence and Prompting
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The world can never be more beautiful than now.
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Small Red Butterfly
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Spring Leaf-Out
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Cinnamon Fern
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Wood Sorrel
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Pitch Pine.
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Lambkill (Kalmia augustifolia)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Apple Blossom Time
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Birds of May
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Young Birds
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Rose-breasted Grosbeak
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Eastern Wood Pewee
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Blackburnian Warbler
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The American Redstart
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Wood Thrush
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Partridge
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Nighthawk
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Screech Owl
May 26, 2023
Pink azalea. See May 31, 1853 ("I am going in search of the Azalea nudiflora.") See also May 29, 1855 ("Azalea nudiflora in garden"); May 25, 1856 ("Azalea nudiflora in garden");May 19, 1859 (“Our Azalea nudiflora flowers.”)
But at last my eyes and attention both were caught by those handsome umbels of the K. glauca. January 9, 1855 ("Make a splendid discovery this afternoon. Walking through Holden’s white spruce swamp, I see peeping above the snow-crust some slender delicate evergreen shoots . . .the Kalmia glauca var.rosmarinifolia.Very delicate evergreen opposite linear leaves, strongly revolute, somewhat reddish-green above, the blossom-buds quite conspicuous . . . The pretty little blossom-buds arranged crosswise in the axils of the leaves as you look down on them.") See also November 4, 1858 ("Objects are concealed from our view not so much because they are out of the course of our visual ray (continued) as because there is no intention of the mind and eye toward them. We do not realize how far and widely, or how near and narrowly, we are to look. The greater part of the phenomena of nature are for this reason concealed to us all our lives.. . . We cannot see anything until we are possessed with the idea of it, and then we can hardly see anything else.") Note: the Kalmia glauca var. rosmarinifolia is known as rosemary-leaf laurel or alpine bog laurel (Andromeda Polifolia) H. Peter Loewer, Thoreau's Garden: Native Plants for the American Landscape 32-33
They have accomplished more than half their year's growth, . . . They are properly called shoots. See May 15, 1859 ("I see an oak shoot (or sprout) already grown ten inches, when the buds of oaks and of most trees are but just burst generally. . . . Very properly these are called shoots."); May 25, 1853 ("Many do most of their growing for the year in a week or two at this season. They shoot - they spring - and the rest of the Year they harden and mature,")
I hear the pea-wai, the tender note. See May 26, 1857 ("Wood pewee.") See also April 14, 1852 (" I do not hear those peculiar tender die-away notes from the pewee yet. Is it another pewee, or a later note?"); May 17. 1853 ("I hear the wood pewee, — pe-a-wai. The heat of yesterday has brought him on."); May 17, 1854 ("Hear the wood pewee, the warm weather sound. "); May 19, 1856 ("Wood pewee. "); May 22, 1854 ("I hear also pe-a-wee pe-a-wee, and then occasionally pee-yu, the first syllable in a different and higher key emphasized, — all very sweet and naive and innocent"); May 23, 1854 ("The wood pewee sings now in the woods behind the spring in the heat of the day (2 p. m.), sitting on a low limb near me, pe-a-wee, pe-a-wee, etc., five or six times at short and regular intervals, looking about all the while, and then, naively, pee-a-oo, emphasizing the first syllable, and begins again. . . ."); May 24, 1859 ("Hear the wood pewee."); May 24, 1860 ("Hear a wood pewee."); May 25, 1855 ("Wood pewee. ")
The season of grass, now everywhere green and luxuriant. See May 27, 1855 ("The fields now begin to wear the aspect of June, their grass just beginning to wave.") May 28, 1858 (“These various shades of grass remind me of June.”); May 30, 1852 (Now is the summer come. . . . A day for shadows, even of moving clouds, over fields in which the grass is beginning to wave."); June 6, 1857 ("This is June, the month of grass and leaves.”)
May 26, 2024
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.
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, May 26
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 © 2009-2022
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