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, 1852Two suns in the west
reflected in water, one
above the other.
May 28, 1853
The huckleberries
now generally in blossom
so full of promise.
Frequented by bees
their rich clear red contrasting
with the light-green leaves.
Wholesome bountiful
and free, this crop grows wild all
over the country.
May 28, 1854
Loud and clear and sweet
steadily the wood thrush sings
like a true minstrel.
May 28, 1855
The wood thrush alone
makes a business of singing,
like a true minstrel
To be serene and
successful we must be one
with the universe.
These apple blossoms
as white and thick as if a
snow-storm has occurred.
May 28, 1857
 |
| while we sit by the path in the depth of the woods May 28, 2018 |
The River is still so high that I am obliged to lower my mast at the bridges. Even this spring the arches of the stone bridge were completely concealed by the flood, and yet at midsummer I can sail under them without lowering my mast. May 28, 1854
The carnival of the year commencing — a warm, moist, hazy air, the water already smooth and uncommonly high, the river overflowing, and yellow lilies all drowned, their stems not long enough to reach the surface. May 28, 1853
Our river has so little current that when the wind has gone down, as at present, it is dark and perfectly smooth, and at present dusty as a stagnant pool in every part of it; far from there being any murmur, there is no ripple nor eddy for the most part. May 28, 1853
Our river has so little current that when the wind has gone down, as at present, it is dark and perfectly smooth, and at present dusty as a stagnant pool in every part of it; far from there being any murmur, there is no ripple nor eddy for the most part. May 28, 1853
The lint from leaves sticks to your clothes now. May 28, 1859
The fresh green foliage of the deciduous trees now so prevails, the pitch pines, which lately looked green, are of a dark brownish or mulberry color by contrast, and the white pines almost as dark, but bluer. In this haziness no doubt they are a little darker than usual. May 28, 1853
The inhumanity of science concerns me, as when I am tempted to kill a rare snake that I may ascertain its species. See April 26, 1857 ("I have the same objection to killing a snake that I have to the killing of any other animal, yet the most humane man that I know never omits to kill one.”); Cf. Wordsworth, The Tables Turned ("We murder to dissect. Enough of Science and of Art . . . Come forth, and bring with you a heart that watches and receives.")
These various shades of grass remind me of June. See May 27, 1855 ("The fields now begin to wear the aspect of June, their grass just beginning to wave.”); May 27, 1853 ("A new season has commenced - summer - leafy 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.”)
The trees now begin to shade the streets. See June 2, 1854 ("These virgin shades of the year, when everything is tender, fresh and green, — how full of promise! I would fain be present at the birth of shadow. It takes place with the first expansion of the leaves."); June 6, 1855 ("The dark eye and shade of June”) See also ("I got to-day and yesterday the first decided impression of greenness beginning to prevail, summer-like. . . .It reminds you of the time, not far off, when you will see the dark shadows of the trees there and buttercups spotting the grass.")
The buttercups spot the churchyard. See May 27, 1853 ("A new season has commenced - summer - leafy June. . . . The buttercups in the church-yard and on some hillsides are now looking more glossy and bright than ever after the rain."); May 30, 1857 ("Buttercups thickly spot the churchyard.")
Our river has so little current. See July 30, 1859 ("It is a mere string of lakes which have not made up their minds to be rivers. As near as possible to a standstill."); April 16, 1852 ("A succession of bays it is, a chain of lakes, . . .There is just stream enough for a flow of thought; that is all. Many a foreigner who has come to this town has worked for years on its banks without discovering which way the river runs. ")
Even this spring the arches of the stone bridge were completely concealed by the flood, and yet at midsummer I can sail under them without lowering my mast. See May 8, 1854 (“The water has fallen a foot or more, but I cannot get under the stone bridge, so haul over the road.”); May 10, 1854 ("I drag and push my boat over the road at Deacon Farrar's brook, carrying a roller with me. . . . I make haste back with a fair wind and umbrella for sail.”); April 17, 1856 (“I make haste to take down my sail at the bridges, but at the stone arches forgot my umbrella, which was un avoidably crushed in part.”); April 22, 1857 (“We have to roll our boat over the road at the stone bridge”)
Painted-Cup Meadow. See June 3, 1853 (“.a large meadow full of [painted-cup], and yet very few in the town have ever seen it.”)
The sidesaddle-flower conspicuous, but no pollen yet. See May 30, 1852 ("The sidesaddle-flowers . . . are just beginning to blossom. The last are quite showy flowers when the wind turns them so as to show their under sides."); June 10, 1854 ("Sidesaddle generally out; petals hang down, apparently a day or two. It is a conspicuous flower."); and note to June 12, 1856 ("Sidesaddle flower numerously out now")
It is remarkable at how little distance a hillside covered with lupines looks blue, See June 5, 1852 ("The transparency of the flower makes its color changeable. It paints a whole hillside with its blue,. . .No other flowers exhibit so much blue. That is the value of the lupine. The earth is blued with them.")
The bulbous arethusa out a day or two — probably yesterday. Though in a measure prepared for it, still its beauty surprised me; it is by far the highest and richest color yet. See May 30, 1854 ("I am surprised to find arethusas abundantly out in Hubbard's Close, maybe two or three days ... This high-colored plant shoots up suddenly, all flower, in meadows where it is wet walking. A superb flower.”) and note to May 29, 1856 ("Two Arethusa bulbosa at Hubbard’s Close apparently a day or two")
Large yellow and black butterfly. See June 3, 1859 ("A large yellow butterfly . . . three and a half to four inches in expanse. Pale-yellow, the front wings crossed by three or four black bars; rear, or outer edge, of all wings widely bordered with black, and some yellow behind it; a short black tail to each hind one, with two blue spots in front of two red-brown ones on the tail")
I see a tanager, . . . A remarkable contrast with the green pines. See May 23, 1853 ("How he enhances the wildness and wealth of the woods! That contrast of a red bird with the green pines and the blue sky! ...”); May 24, 1860 ("You can hardly believe that a living creature can wear such colors”).
The wood thrush . . . alone appears to make a business of singing, like a true minstrel. See June 22, 1853 (“This is the only bird whose note affects me like music, affects the flow and tenor of my thought, my fancy and imagination.”) See also A Book of the Seasons, The Wood Thrush
The splendid Sylvia pardalina. See June 4, 1855 ("It is all bright yellow or ochreous orange (?) below except vent, and a dark or black crescent on breast, with a white line about eye. Above it appears a nearly uniform dark blue slate, legs light, bill dark (?), tail long and forked. I think it must be the Canada warbler, seen in ’37.”)
Some Salix rostrata seed begins to fly. See June 6, 1856 ("That willow, male and female, opposite to Trillium Woods on the railroad, I find to be the Salix rostrata, or long-beaked willow, one of the ochre-flowered.")
The ground is strewn with apple blossoms as white and thick as if a snow-storm had occurred See May 27 1852 ("The road is white with the apple blossoms fallen off, as with snowflakes.”)
See already one or two white maple keys on the water. See May 29, 1854 (“The white maple keys have begun to fall and float down the stream like the wings of great insects.”)
This snake, some four feet long, perfectly at home in the trees. See May 16, 2018 ("It surprised me very much to see it cross from tree to tree exactly like a squirrel, where there appeared little or no support for such a body."); May 30, 1855 ("See a small black snake run along securely through thin bushes (alders and willows) three or four feet from the ground, passing intervals of two feet easily,—very readily and gracefully, —ascending or descending")
The fresh green foliage of the deciduous trees now so prevails, the pitch pines, which lately looked green, are of a dark brownish or mulberry color by contrast, and the white pines almost as dark, but bluer. In this haziness no doubt they are a little darker than usual. May 28, 1853
The trees now begin to shade the streets. When the sun gets high in the sky the trees give shade. May 28, 1851
The grass on pretty high ground is wet with dew an hour before sunset. Whiteweed now, and cotton-grass. May 28, 1853
These various shades of grass remind me of June, now close at hand. May 28, 1858
The grass on pretty high ground is wet with dew an hour before sunset. Whiteweed now, and cotton-grass. May 28, 1853
These various shades of grass remind me of June, now close at hand. May 28, 1858
Rain again in the night, and this forenoon, more or less May 28, 1857.
What is peculiar now, beginning yesterday, after rains, is the sudden heat, and the more general sound of insects by day, and the loud ringing croak of common toads and tree-toads at evening and in the night. May 28, 1853
Already the ringing croak of a toad begins to be heard here and there along the river, and the troonk of a bullfrog from time to time. May 28, 1853
A cricket creaks. May 28, 1856
Large yellow and black butterfly. May 28, 1855
Devil’s needles begin to fly; saw one the 14th. May 28, 1853
The apple bloom is very rich now. May 28, 1855
In some places the ground is strewn with apple blossoms, quite concealing it, as white and thick as if a snow-storm had occurred. May 28, 1857
Saw, under an apple tree, nearly half a pint of some white grub with a light reddish head, like a small potato-worm, one inch long, and part of a snake-skin, making the greater part of the faeces of some animal, — chiefly the grubs, — a formless soft mass. Skunk? May 28, 1856
Fever-bush shoots are now two inches long; say begin to leaf just before late willow. May 28, 1855
Black ash shoots three inches long; say with late willow. May 28, 1855
White pine and pitch pine shoots from two to five inches long. May 28, 1855
Barberry open May 28, 1855 .
The leaves of kalmiana lily obvious. May 28, 1855
Rubus triflorus at Miles Swamp will apparently open to-morrow. May 28, 1855
Low blackberry in bloom on railroad bank. May 28, 1859
Methinks every tree and shrub is started, or more, now, but the Vaccinium dumosum, which has not burst. May 28, 1859
The huckleberries, excepting the late, are now generally in blossom, their rich clear red contrasting with the light-green leaves; frequented by honey-bees, full of promise for the summer. May 28, 1854
Hear a rose-breasted grosbeak. May 28, 1859
Hear the wood pewee. May 28, 1858
I find the feathers apparently of a brown thrasher in the path, plucked since we passed here last night. May 28, 1855
Hear the nighthawk? and see a bat to-night. May 28, 1858
As I sail down toward the Clamshell Hill about an hour before sunset, the water is smoothed like glass, though the breeze is as strong as before. How is this? May 28, 1854
At the old bridge at the hill, the water being quite smooth, I see a water-bug cross straight from the south to the north side, about six rods, furrowing the water in a waving line, there being no other insects near him on the surface. It takes but about a minute. May 28, 1854
For three quarters of an hour the sun is a great round red ball in the west, reflected in the water; at first a scarlet, but as it descends growing more purple and crimson and larger, with a blue bar of a cloud across it; still reflected in the water, two suns, one above the other. May 28, 1853
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Reminiscence and Prompting
The huckleberries . . . now generally in blossom, their rich clear red contrasting with the light-green leaves, . . . full of promise for the summer. See May 27, 1855 ("How interesting the huckleberries now generally in blossom . . . — countless wholesome red bells, beneath the fresh yellow green foliage!”); December 30, 1860 ("The family thus ranges from the highest mountain-tops to the lowest swamps and forms the prevailing small shrubs of a great part of New England.")
What is peculiar now, beginning yesterday, after rains, is the sudden heat, and the more general sound of insects by day, and the loud ringing croak of common toads and tree-toads at evening and in the night. May 28, 1853
Already the ringing croak of a toad begins to be heard here and there along the river, and the troonk of a bullfrog from time to time. May 28, 1853
A cricket creaks. May 28, 1856
Large yellow and black butterfly. May 28, 1855
Devil’s needles begin to fly; saw one the 14th. May 28, 1853
See already one or two white maple keys on the water.
Beech-drops out apparently some days, May 28, 1853
Also just out green-briar. May 28, 1853
The sidesaddle-flower conspicuous, but no pollen yet. May 28, 1853
A rose in a garden. May 28, 1853
The bulbous arethusa out a day or two — probably yesterday. Though in a measure prepared for it, still its beauty surprised me; it is by far the highest and richest color yet. May 28, 1853
Thesium just beams now at six o’clock May 28, 1853
The lupines lilac tints show best looking at them towards the sun, for they are transparent. Last night in the dark they were all a pale, whitish color like the moon by day — a mere dull luminousness, as if they reflected light absorbed by day. May 28, 1853
It is remarkable at how little distance a hillside covered with lupines looks blue. May 28, 1853
A sprig of wilted fir now grown an inch emits that rich fragrance somewhat like strawberries and pineapples, yet peculiar. May 28, 1853
Some Salix rostrata seed begins to fly. May 28, 1859
Also S. Torreyana seed, just begun to fly. May 28, 1859
S. pedicellaris long out of bloom there. May 28, 1859
Beech-drops out apparently some days, May 28, 1853
Also just out green-briar. May 28, 1853
The sidesaddle-flower conspicuous, but no pollen yet. May 28, 1853
A rose in a garden. May 28, 1853
The bulbous arethusa out a day or two — probably yesterday. Though in a measure prepared for it, still its beauty surprised me; it is by far the highest and richest color yet. May 28, 1853
Thesium just beams now at six o’clock May 28, 1853
The lupines lilac tints show best looking at them towards the sun, for they are transparent. Last night in the dark they were all a pale, whitish color like the moon by day — a mere dull luminousness, as if they reflected light absorbed by day. May 28, 1853
It is remarkable at how little distance a hillside covered with lupines looks blue. May 28, 1853
A sprig of wilted fir now grown an inch emits that rich fragrance somewhat like strawberries and pineapples, yet peculiar. May 28, 1853
Some Salix rostrata seed begins to fly. May 28, 1859
Also S. Torreyana seed, just begun to fly. May 28, 1859
S. pedicellaris long out of bloom there. May 28, 1859
The Salix pedicellaris, which abounds in the Great Meadows, is a peculiar and rather interesting willow, some fifteen inches high and scarcely rising above the grass even now. May 28, 1858
Salix nigra apparently one day in one place. May 28, 1858
Cinnamon fern pollen May 28, 1859.
Cinnamon fern pollen May 28, 1859.
The earliest cinnamon fern, apparently not long. May 28, 1858
Lady's-slipper pollen. These grow under pines even in swamps, as at Ledum Swamp. May 28, 1859
The Cornus florida involucres are partly expanded, but not yet very showy. May 28, 1858
The Ranunculus Purshii is now abundant and conspicuous in river. May 28, 1858
Lady's-slipper pollen. These grow under pines even in swamps, as at Ledum Swamp. May 28, 1859
The Cornus florida involucres are partly expanded, but not yet very showy. May 28, 1858
The Ranunculus Purshii is now abundant and conspicuous in river. May 28, 1858
The buttercups spot the churchyard. May 28, 1851
Red clover at Clamshell, a day or two. May 28, 1854
Trifolium pratense. May 28, 1856
The red actaea is fully expanded and probably has been open two or three days, but there will be no pollen till to-morrow. May 28, 1858
Trifolium pratense. May 28, 1856
The red actaea is fully expanded and probably has been open two or three days, but there will be no pollen till to-morrow. May 28, 1858
Potentilla argentea, maybe several days. May 28, 1856
Hypoxis erecta, maybe a day or two. May 28, 1856
Thalictrum dioicum abundantly out, apparently in prime, male and female, some effete, perhaps a week, near wall in Painted-Cup Meadow. May 28, 1856
Hypoxis erecta, maybe a day or two. May 28, 1856
Thalictrum dioicum abundantly out, apparently in prime, male and female, some effete, perhaps a week, near wall in Painted-Cup Meadow. May 28, 1856
White thorn and yellow Bethlehem-star (Hypoxis erecta). May 28, 1852
Painted-cup pollen a good while ago. May 28, 1856
What kind of cherry tree is that, now rather past prime, wild-red-cherry-like, if not it, between the actaea and river near wall? Some ten inches in diameter. May 28, 1858
Our quince open this morning, possibly yesterday; and some others, I believe, much earlier. May 28, 1855
Painted-cup pollen a good while ago. May 28, 1856
What kind of cherry tree is that, now rather past prime, wild-red-cherry-like, if not it, between the actaea and river near wall? Some ten inches in diameter. May 28, 1858
Our quince open this morning, possibly yesterday; and some others, I believe, much earlier. May 28, 1855
The apple bloom is very rich now. May 28, 1855
In some places the ground is strewn with apple blossoms, quite concealing it, as white and thick as if a snow-storm had occurred. May 28, 1857
Saw, under an apple tree, nearly half a pint of some white grub with a light reddish head, like a small potato-worm, one inch long, and part of a snake-skin, making the greater part of the faeces of some animal, — chiefly the grubs, — a formless soft mass. Skunk? May 28, 1856
Fever-bush shoots are now two inches long; say begin to leaf just before late willow. May 28, 1855
Black ash shoots three inches long; say with late willow. May 28, 1855
White pine and pitch pine shoots from two to five inches long. May 28, 1855
Barberry open May 28, 1855 .
The leaves of kalmiana lily obvious. May 28, 1855
I come, in the midst of the meadow, on two of the Emys meleagris, much larger than I have found before. May 28, 1858
The inhumanity of science concerns me, as when I am tempted to kill a rare snake that I may ascertain its species. I feel that this is not the means of acquiring true knowledge. May 28, 1854
C. says he has seen a green snake. May 28, 1855
See that common snake Coluber eximius of De Kay, — checkered adder . . . I should think from Storer's description that his specimen had lost its proper colors in spirits. He describes not the colors of a living snake, but those which alcohol might impart to it. It is as if you were to describe the white man as very red in the face, having seen a drunkard only. May 28, 1854
At the extreme east side of Trillium Wood, come upon a black snake, which at first keeps still prudently, thinking I may not see him, — in the grass in open land, — then glides to the edge of the wood and darts swiftly up into the top of some slender shrubs there. May 28, 1859
This snake, some four feet long, . . . perfectly at home in the trees. May 28, 1859
The inhumanity of science concerns me, as when I am tempted to kill a rare snake that I may ascertain its species. I feel that this is not the means of acquiring true knowledge. May 28, 1854
C. says he has seen a green snake. May 28, 1855
See that common snake Coluber eximius of De Kay, — checkered adder . . . I should think from Storer's description that his specimen had lost its proper colors in spirits. He describes not the colors of a living snake, but those which alcohol might impart to it. It is as if you were to describe the white man as very red in the face, having seen a drunkard only. May 28, 1854
At the extreme east side of Trillium Wood, come upon a black snake, which at first keeps still prudently, thinking I may not see him, — in the grass in open land, — then glides to the edge of the wood and darts swiftly up into the top of some slender shrubs there. May 28, 1859
This snake, some four feet long, . . . perfectly at home in the trees. May 28, 1859
Rubus triflorus at Miles Swamp will apparently open to-morrow. May 28, 1855
Low blackberry in bloom on railroad bank. May 28, 1859
Methinks every tree and shrub is started, or more, now, but the Vaccinium dumosum, which has not burst. May 28, 1859
The huckleberries, excepting the late, are now generally in blossom, their rich clear red contrasting with the light-green leaves; frequented by honey-bees, full of promise for the summer. May 28, 1854
The berry-promising flower of the Vacciniece. This crop grows wild all over the country, — wholesome, bountiful, and free May 28, 1854
I see a tanager, the most brilliant and tropical-looking bird we have, bright-scarlet with black wings, the scarlet appearing on the rump again between wing-tips. May 28, 1855
The wood thrush sings steadily for half an hour, now at 2.30 P.M., amid the pines, — loud and clear and sweet. While other birds are warbling betweenwhiles and catching their prey, he alone appears to make a business of singing, like a true minstrel. May 28, 1855
I get the nest of the turtle dove . . . close to a frequented path of the cemetery and within reach of the hand. May 28, 1858
By boat to Great Meadows to look for the bittern's nest. May 28, 1858
From time to time I hear the sound of the bittern, concealed in the grass, indefinitely far or near, and can only guess at the direction, not the distance. I fail to find the nest. May 28, 1858
I have seen within three or four days two or three new warblers which I have not identified. May 28, 1855
Along the edge of Warren's wood east of the Deep Cut, see not only the chestnut-sided warbler but the splendid Sylvia pardalina.[canada warbler] . . .Not shy; on the birches. May 28, 1860
Do I not hear a short snappish, rasping note from a yellow-throat vireo? May 28, 1855
The wood thrush sings steadily for half an hour, now at 2.30 P.M., amid the pines, — loud and clear and sweet. While other birds are warbling betweenwhiles and catching their prey, he alone appears to make a business of singing, like a true minstrel. May 28, 1855
I get the nest of the turtle dove . . . close to a frequented path of the cemetery and within reach of the hand. May 28, 1858
By boat to Great Meadows to look for the bittern's nest. May 28, 1858
From time to time I hear the sound of the bittern, concealed in the grass, indefinitely far or near, and can only guess at the direction, not the distance. I fail to find the nest. May 28, 1858
I have seen within three or four days two or three new warblers which I have not identified. May 28, 1855
Along the edge of Warren's wood east of the Deep Cut, see not only the chestnut-sided warbler but the splendid Sylvia pardalina.[canada warbler] . . .Not shy; on the birches. May 28, 1860
Do I not hear a short snappish, rasping note from a yellow-throat vireo? May 28, 1855
Examined my two yellowbirds’ nests of the 25th. Both are destroyed, —pulled down and torn to pieces probably by some bird, — though they but just begun to lay. May 28, 1855
Hear for a long time, as I sit under a willow, a summer yellowbird sing, without knowing what it is. It is a rich and varied singer with but few notes to remind me of its common one, continually hopping about. May 28, 1858
Hear a rose-breasted grosbeak. May 28, 1859
Hear the wood pewee. May 28, 1858
I find the feathers apparently of a brown thrasher in the path, plucked since we passed here last night. May 28, 1855
Hear the nighthawk? and see a bat to-night. May 28, 1858
As I sail down toward the Clamshell Hill about an hour before sunset, the water is smoothed like glass, though the breeze is as strong as before. How is this? May 28, 1854
At the old bridge at the hill, the water being quite smooth, I see a water-bug cross straight from the south to the north side, about six rods, furrowing the water in a waving line, there being no other insects near him on the surface. It takes but about a minute. May 28, 1854
For three quarters of an hour the sun is a great round red ball in the west, reflected in the water; at first a scarlet, but as it descends growing more purple and crimson and larger, with a blue bar of a cloud across it; still reflected in the water, two suns, one above the other. May 28, 1853
two suns, one above the other.
It would be worth the while to ask ourselves weekly, Is our life innocent enough? Do we live inhumanely, toward man or beast, in thought or act? To be serene and successful we must be at one with the universe. May 28, 1854
*****
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Reminiscence and Prompting
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Apple Blossom Time
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Summer
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Pitch Pine.
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Wortleberry Family
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Maple Keys
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Cricket in Spring
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Birds of May
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Canada Warbler
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Summer Yellowbird
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The American Bittern (the Stake-Diver)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Rose-breasted Grosbeak
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Chestnut-sided Warbler
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Scarlet Tanager
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, he Brown Thrasher
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Wood Thrush
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The world can never be more beautiful than now.
*****
The Vaccinium dumosum. See August 30, 1856 (“I noticed also a few small peculiar-looking huckleberries hanging on bushes amid the sphagnum, and, tasting, perceived that they were hispid, a new kind to me. Gaylussacia dumosa var. hirtella . . .. Has a small black hairy or hispid berry, shining but insipid and inedible, with a tough, hairy skin left in the mouth.”); July 2, 1857 (“The Gaylussacia dumosa var. hirtella, not yet quite in prime. . . . not to be mistaken for the edible huckleberry or blueberry blossom.”); August 8, 1858 (“the Gaylussacia dumosa var. hiriella . . . the only inedible species of Vaccinieoe that I know in this town”)
The inhumanity of science concerns me, as when I am tempted to kill a rare snake that I may ascertain its species. See April 26, 1857 ("I have the same objection to killing a snake that I have to the killing of any other animal, yet the most humane man that I know never omits to kill one.”); Cf. Wordsworth, The Tables Turned ("We murder to dissect. Enough of Science and of Art . . . Come forth, and bring with you a heart that watches and receives.")
These various shades of grass remind me of June. See May 27, 1855 ("The fields now begin to wear the aspect of June, their grass just beginning to wave.”); May 27, 1853 ("A new season has commenced - summer - leafy 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.”)
The trees now begin to shade the streets. See June 2, 1854 ("These virgin shades of the year, when everything is tender, fresh and green, — how full of promise! I would fain be present at the birth of shadow. It takes place with the first expansion of the leaves."); June 6, 1855 ("The dark eye and shade of June”) See also ("I got to-day and yesterday the first decided impression of greenness beginning to prevail, summer-like. . . .It reminds you of the time, not far off, when you will see the dark shadows of the trees there and buttercups spotting the grass.")
The buttercups spot the churchyard. See May 27, 1853 ("A new season has commenced - summer - leafy June. . . . The buttercups in the church-yard and on some hillsides are now looking more glossy and bright than ever after the rain."); May 30, 1857 ("Buttercups thickly spot the churchyard.")
Our river has so little current. See July 30, 1859 ("It is a mere string of lakes which have not made up their minds to be rivers. As near as possible to a standstill."); April 16, 1852 ("A succession of bays it is, a chain of lakes, . . .There is just stream enough for a flow of thought; that is all. Many a foreigner who has come to this town has worked for years on its banks without discovering which way the river runs. ")
Even this spring the arches of the stone bridge were completely concealed by the flood, and yet at midsummer I can sail under them without lowering my mast. See May 8, 1854 (“The water has fallen a foot or more, but I cannot get under the stone bridge, so haul over the road.”); May 10, 1854 ("I drag and push my boat over the road at Deacon Farrar's brook, carrying a roller with me. . . . I make haste back with a fair wind and umbrella for sail.”); April 17, 1856 (“I make haste to take down my sail at the bridges, but at the stone arches forgot my umbrella, which was un avoidably crushed in part.”); April 22, 1857 (“We have to roll our boat over the road at the stone bridge”)
Painted-Cup Meadow. See June 3, 1853 (“.a large meadow full of [painted-cup], and yet very few in the town have ever seen it.”)
The sidesaddle-flower conspicuous, but no pollen yet. See May 30, 1852 ("The sidesaddle-flowers . . . are just beginning to blossom. The last are quite showy flowers when the wind turns them so as to show their under sides."); June 10, 1854 ("Sidesaddle generally out; petals hang down, apparently a day or two. It is a conspicuous flower."); and note to June 12, 1856 ("Sidesaddle flower numerously out now")
It is remarkable at how little distance a hillside covered with lupines looks blue, See June 5, 1852 ("The transparency of the flower makes its color changeable. It paints a whole hillside with its blue,. . .No other flowers exhibit so much blue. That is the value of the lupine. The earth is blued with them.")
The bulbous arethusa out a day or two — probably yesterday. Though in a measure prepared for it, still its beauty surprised me; it is by far the highest and richest color yet. See May 30, 1854 ("I am surprised to find arethusas abundantly out in Hubbard's Close, maybe two or three days ... This high-colored plant shoots up suddenly, all flower, in meadows where it is wet walking. A superb flower.”) and note to May 29, 1856 ("Two Arethusa bulbosa at Hubbard’s Close apparently a day or two")
Large yellow and black butterfly. See June 3, 1859 ("A large yellow butterfly . . . three and a half to four inches in expanse. Pale-yellow, the front wings crossed by three or four black bars; rear, or outer edge, of all wings widely bordered with black, and some yellow behind it; a short black tail to each hind one, with two blue spots in front of two red-brown ones on the tail")
I see a tanager, . . . A remarkable contrast with the green pines. See May 23, 1853 ("How he enhances the wildness and wealth of the woods! That contrast of a red bird with the green pines and the blue sky! ...”); May 24, 1860 ("You can hardly believe that a living creature can wear such colors”).
The wood thrush . . . alone appears to make a business of singing, like a true minstrel. See June 22, 1853 (“This is the only bird whose note affects me like music, affects the flow and tenor of my thought, my fancy and imagination.”) See also A Book of the Seasons, The Wood Thrush
The splendid Sylvia pardalina. See June 4, 1855 ("It is all bright yellow or ochreous orange (?) below except vent, and a dark or black crescent on breast, with a white line about eye. Above it appears a nearly uniform dark blue slate, legs light, bill dark (?), tail long and forked. I think it must be the Canada warbler, seen in ’37.”)
Some Salix rostrata seed begins to fly. See June 6, 1856 ("That willow, male and female, opposite to Trillium Woods on the railroad, I find to be the Salix rostrata, or long-beaked willow, one of the ochre-flowered.")
The ground is strewn with apple blossoms as white and thick as if a snow-storm had occurred See May 27 1852 ("The road is white with the apple blossoms fallen off, as with snowflakes.”)
See already one or two white maple keys on the water. See May 29, 1854 (“The white maple keys have begun to fall and float down the stream like the wings of great insects.”)
This snake, some four feet long, perfectly at home in the trees. See May 16, 2018 ("It surprised me very much to see it cross from tree to tree exactly like a squirrel, where there appeared little or no support for such a body."); May 30, 1855 ("See a small black snake run along securely through thin bushes (alders and willows) three or four feet from the ground, passing intervals of two feet easily,—very readily and gracefully, —ascending or descending")
May 28, 2017 7:47 PM
Two suns in the west
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, I love you like I love the sky
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, May 28
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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