A Book of the Seasons: May 5.

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

May 5.

I still sit on its Cliff in a new spring day

and look over the awakening woods and the river

and hear the new birds sing

with the same delight as ever.

It is as sweet a mystery to me as ever

what this world is.

Henry Thoreau,  May 1850

The peculiarly

beautiful clean and tender

green of the grass there.

May 5, 1854

Cranberry patches

lit by the sun in the swamp –

beautiful crimson.

May 5, 1855

Yellow butterfly,–

how hot! this meteor

dancing through the air. 

May 5, 1859

May 5, 2021

Every part of the world is beautiful today . . . Now all buds may swell, methinks; now the summer may begin for all creatures. May 5, 1852

Am struck by the beauty of the yellow birches, now fairly begun to be in bloom . . . — a great display of lively blossoms (lively both by their color and motion) without a particle of leaf. Journal, May 5, 1859

The small andromeda has lost its reddish leaves, probably about the time it blossomed, and I can neither get the red cathedral-window light looking toward the now westering sun in a most favorable position, nor the gray colors in the other direction, but it is all a grayish green. May 5, 1855

But the patches of cranberry in the swamp, seen at some distance toward the sun, are a beautiful crimson, which travels with you, keeping between you and the sun, like some rare plant in bloom there densely. May 5, 1855

Staminate Salix rostrata, possibly yesterday. May 5, 1857

The sugar maples on the Common have just begun to show their stamens peeping out of the bud. May 5, 1855

High blueberry began to leaf in some places yesterday. May 5, 1855

Vaccinium Pennsylvanicum flowers against rocks, not long. May 5, 1860

Larch began to leaf, say when it opened, the 28th of April, but not noticeably till to-day. I find one bundle with needles a quarter of an inch long and spreading. May 5, 1855 

The aspen leaves at Island to-day appear as big as a nine pence suddenly. May 5, 1858

The male flowers of the grandidentata begin to dry up. May 5, 1852

The trees and shrubs which I observe to make a show now with their green, without regard to the time when they began, are (to put them in the order of their intensity and generalness):–

• Gooseberry, both kinds
• Raspberry
• Meadow-sweet
• Choke-cherry shoots
• Some young trembles
• Very young apples
• Red currant, and probably black
• Pyrus, probably arbutifolia
• Young black cherry
• Thimble-berry
• Probably wild red cherry in some places
• Salix alba with bracts (?)
• Some small native willows
• Cultivated cherry
• Some mountain-ash (i.e. European)
• Some horse-chestnut

May 5, 1855

The Emerson children found blue and white violets May 1st at Hubbard's Close, probably Viola ovata and blanda; but I have not been able to find any yet. May 5, 1854

The Viola pedata budded, ready to blossom. May 5, 1852

Viola blanda, how long? May 5, 1860

Am surprised to find the Viola Muhlenbergii quite abundant beyond the bayberry and near the wall. May 5, 1859

According to my observation this year, it now stands thus with the violets:

• the V. ovata is the commonest, but not abundant in one spot;
• the V. Muhlenbergii is most abundant in particular spots, coloring the hummocks with its small pale flowers;
• the V. blanda and cucullata are, equally, less abundant than the former, or rather rare;
• V. pedata and lanceolata rarer yet, or not seen.

May 5, 1859

Veronica peregrina, Pratt's garden. May 5, 1859

Thalictrum anemonoides by Brister's Spring on hillside. The peculiarly beautiful clean and tender green of the grass there! May 5, 1854

Anemone and Thalictrum anemonoides are apparently in prime about the 10th of May. May 5, 1860

See at Lee's a pewee (phoebe) building. She has just woven in, or laid on the edge, a fresh sprig of saxifrage in flower. May 5, 1860

Saw and heard the small pewee yesterday. May 5, 1858.

Hear the tull-lull of a myrtle-bird (very commonly heard for three or four days after). May 5, 1857

Hear the seringo note. May 5, 1861

Red-wings fly in flocks yet. May 5, 1859.

I say to myself I will find a crow’s nest. (I had heard a crow scold at a passing hawk a quarter of an hour before.) I have hardly taken this resolution when, looking up, I see a crow wending his way across an interval in the woods towards the highest pines in the swamp, on which he alights. I direct my steps to them and am soon greeted with an angry caw, and, within five minutes from my resolve, I detect a new nest close to the top of the tallest white pine in the [Beck Stow] swamp. May 5, 1855

The only frogs hereabouts whose spawn I do not know are the bullfrogs, R. fontinalis, and hylodes. The first have not begun to trump, and I conclude are not yet breeding; the last, I think, must be nearly done breeding, and probably do not put their spawn in the river proper; possibly, therefore, the oat spawn of yesterday may be that of the R. fontinalis. May 5, 1858

The peepers and toads are in full blast at night. May 5, 1860

First potato-worm.  May 5, 1857

The yellowish (or common) winged grasshoppers are quite common now, hopping and flying before me. May 5, 1860

Near the oak beyond Jarvis land, a yellow butterfly, — how hot! this meteor dancing through the air. May 5, 1859 .

I succeed best when I recur to my experience not too late . . . when there is some distance, but enough of freshness. May 5, 1852

It takes us many years to find out that Nature repeats herself annually. May 5, 1860

The sun sets red (first time), followed by a very hot and hazy day May 5, 1859

May 5, 2022

*****

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 first frogs to begin calling

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Green Frog in Spring (Rana Fontinalis)

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Yellow Butterflies

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Aspens

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Big-toothed Aspen

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Larch in Spring

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Yellow Birch

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Andromeda Phenomenon

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

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Saxifrage in Spring (Saxifraga vernalis)

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Eastern Phoebe

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Small Pewee

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Myrtle-bird

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The American Crow

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau,The Red-wing in Spring

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Savannah Sparrow (Fringilla savanna)

*****

Every part of the world is beautiful today. See May 18, 1852 ("The world can never be more beautiful than now"); August 19, 1853 ("It is a glorious and ever-memorable day"); September 18, 1860 ("If you are not happy to-day you will hardly be so to-morrow").

A yellow butterfly, — how hot! this meteor dancing through the air. See September 19, 1859 ("One flutters across between the horse and the wagon safely enough, though it looks as if it would be run down."); May 5, 1860 ("Yellow butterflies."). and Buson:

Butterfly

sleeping

on the temple bell.

and zphx:

Asteroids  

tumbling in space 

the heat of the sun. 

20220425

See also May 22, 1856 (“A yellow butterfly over the middle of the flooded meadow.”); May 25, 1852 (“Yellow butterflies one at a time. The large yellow woods violet (V. pubescens) by this brook now out.”)

Vaccinium Pennsylvanicum flowers against rocks, not long. See May 10, 1856 ("Vaccinium Pennsylvanicum . . . seems to bloom with or immediately after the bear-berry.")

Veronica peregrina, Pratt's garden. See May 5, 1860 ("Veronica serpyllifolia, say yesterday.."). See also See May 22, 1856 ("Veronica peregrina, apparently several days.”);May 25, 1855 ("Veronica peregrina in Mackay’s strawberries, how long? “)

Seringo note. See May 1, 1852 ("I hear the note of the shy Savannah sparrow (F. Savanna), that plump bird with a dark-streaked breast that runs and hides in the grass, whose note sounds so like a cricket's in the grass . . . The word seringo reminds me of its note , as if it were produced by some kind of fine metallic spring."); April 22, 1856 ("The seringo also sits on a post, with a very distinct yellow line over the eye,and the rhythm of its strain is ker chick | ker che | ker-char—r-r-r-r | chick, the last two bars being the part chiefly heard."); April 27, 1859 ("Hear and see the seringo in fields next the shore. No noticeable yellow shoulder, pure whitish beneath, dashed throat and a dark-brown line of dashes along the sides of the body."); June 26, 1856 ("[S]aw, apparently, the F. Savanna near their nests (my seringo note), restlessly flitting about me from rock to rock within a rod."); and notes to note to August 11, 1858 (" I heard there abouts the seringo note."); and December 7, 1858 ("Dr. Bryant calls my seringo (i. e. the faint-noted bird) Savannah sparrow.”) See also Guide to Thoreau’s Birds ("Thoreau frequently called the Savannah Sparrow Passerculus sandwichensis the seringo or seringo-bird, but he also applied the name to other small birds.")

Am surprised to find the Viola Muhlenbergii quite abundant beyond the bayberry and near the wall. See May 12, 1858 ("Find the Viola Muhlenbergii abundantly out (how long?), in the meadow southwest of Farmer's Spring.”); May 18, 1857 (“Viola Muhlenbergii abundantly out, how long?”); May 22, 1856 (“Viola Muhlenbergii, which is abundantly out; how long? A small pale-blue flower growing in dense bunches, but in spots a little drier than the V. cucullata and blanda”); May 29, 1856 ("What a flowery place, a vale of Enna, is that [Painted Cup] meadow! Painted Cup, Erigeron bellidifolius, Thalictrum dioicum, Viola Muhlenbergii, fringed polygala, buck-bean, pedicularis, orobanche, etc., etc. Where you find a rare flower, expect to find more rare ones”)

The yellow birches, now fairly begun to be in bloom, at Yellow Birch, or Borychium, Swamp. See May 17, 1857 ("The yellow birch catkins, now fully out or a little past prime, are very handsome now, numerous clusters of rich golden catkins hanging straight down at a height from the ground on the end of the pendulous branches, amid the just expanding leaf-buds. It is like some great chandelier hung high over the underwood.”)

The aspen leaves at Island to-day appear as big as a nine pence suddenly. See May 2, 1855 (" The young aspens are the first of indigenous trees conspicuously leafed.”); May 2, 1859 (" I am surprised by the tender yellowish green of the aspen leaf just expanded suddenly, even like a fire, seen in the sun, against the dark-brown twigs of the wood, though these leafets are yet but thinly dispersed. It is very enlivening.”); May 4, 1856 ("The aspen there ( the Island) just begun to leaf.”)

Saw and heard the small pewee yesterday. See May 3, 1854 ("What I have called the small pewee on the willow by my boat, — quite small, uttering a short tchevet from time to time.”); May 7, 1852 ("The first small pewee sings now che-vet, or rather chirrups chevet, tche-vet — a rather delicate bird with a large head and two white bars on wings.) Also note to May 3, 1855("Small pewee; tchevet, with a jerk of the head.”) ~ The “Small Pewee” is listed as Muscicapa acadia in Report on the Fishes, Reptiles and Birds of Massachusetts 295 (1839), also in Thompson, Natural History of Vermont, part I, 76 (1842). Probably what Thoreau calls the "small pewee” is what we now know as the Least Flycatcher (Empidonax minimus). It arrives in Massachusetts the last week in April and in Vermont the first week of May. See A Book of the Seasons, the "Small Pewee”

Hear the tull-lull  See April 19,1855 ("Hear the tull-lull of the white-throated sparrow in street”); May 4, 1855 ("Myrtle-birds numerous, and sing their tea lee, tea lee in morning. White-throated sparrows here, and numerous”); May 2, 1856 ("The tea lee of the yellow-rump warbler in the street, at the end of a cool, rainy day.”)

Staminate Salix rostrata. 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 . . . willows . . .”); May 6, 1858 (“The Salix rostrata staminate flowers are of very peculiar yellow, — a bright, what you might call yellow yellow.”)

I say to myself I will find a crow’s nest. See A Book of the Seasons: The American Crow

Larch began to leaf.  See A Book of Seasons, the Larch

Andromeda and sunlight. See November 24, 1857 (“Looking toward the sun, the andromeda in front of me is a very warm red brown and on either side of me, a pale silvery brown; looking from the sun, a uniform pale brown.”); January 24, 1855 ("Those Andromeda Ponds are very attractive spots to me. They are filled with a dense bed of the small andromeda, a dull red mass as commonly seen, brighter or translucent red looking toward the sun, grayish looking from it...);January 10,1855 ("As I go toward the sun now at 4 P. M., the translucent leaves are lit up by it and appear of a soft red, more or less brown, like cathedral windows, but when I look back from the sun, the whole bed appears merely gray and brown or less reddish.”); April 19 1852 ("How sweet is the perception of a new natural fact! suggesting what worlds remain to be unveiled. That phenomenon of the andromeda seen against the sun cheers me exceedingly. When the phenomenon was not observed, it was not at all. I think that no man ever takes an original or detects a principle, without experiencing an inexpressible, as quite infinite and sane, pleasure, which advertises him of the dignity of that truth he has perceived.The thing that pleases me most within these three days is the discovery of the andromeda phenomenon . It makes all those parts of the country where it grows more attractive .... It is a natural magic. These little leaves are the stained windows in the cathedral of my world.”) April 17, 1852 (Observed in the second of the chain of ponds between Fair Haven and Walden a large (for the pond) island patch of the dwarf andromeda, I sitting on the east bank; its fine brownish-red color very agreeable and memorable to behold. In the last long pond, looking at it from the south, I saw it filled with a slightly grayish shrub which I took for the sweet-gale, but when I had got round to the east side, chancing to turn round, I was surprised to see that all this pond-hole also was filled with the same warm brownish-red-colored andromeda. The fact was I was opposite to the sun, but from every other position I saw only the sun reflected from the surface of the andromeda leaves, which gave the whole a grayish-brown hue tinged with red; but from this position alone I saw, as it were, through the leaves which the opposite sun lit up, giving to the whole this charming warm, what I call Indian, red color, — the mellowest, the ripest, red imbrowned color; but when I looked to the right or left, i. e. north or south, the more the swamp had the mottled light or grayish aspect where the light was reflected from the surfaces of the leaves. And afterward, when I had risen higher up the hill, though still opposite the sun, the light came reflected upward from the surfaces, and I lost that warm, rich red tinge, surpassing cathedral windows. Let me look again at a different hour of the day, and see if it is really so. It is a very interesting piece of magic.")

I succeed best when I recur to my experience . . . when there is some distance, but enough of freshness. See April 20, 1854 ("I find some advantage in describing the experience of a day on the day following. At this distance it is more ideal, like the landscape seen with the head inverted, or reflections in water"); January 10, 1854 ("What you can recall of a walk on the second day will differ from what you remember on the first day, ... as any view changes to one who is journeying amid mountains when he has increased the distance"); March 27, 1857 ("The men and things of to-day are wont to lie fairer and truer in to-morrow’s memory.").

It takes us many years to find out that Nature repeats herself annually. See September 24, 1859 ("Young men have not learned the phases of Nature; they do not know what constitutes a year, or that one year is like another."); and April 18, 1852 ("For the first time I perceive this spring that the year is a circle.")

The sun sets red (first time), followed by a very hot and hazy day. See May 5, 1860 ("Sun goes down red.") See also May 4, 1860 (“The sun sets red, shorn of its beams.”); August 25, 1854 ("The sun is shorn of his beams by the haze before 5 o'clock P.M., round and red, and is soon completely concealed, apparently by the haze alone.”)

May 5, 2023

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.

  April 7, 1853 

May 4< <<<<<  May 5.  >>>>> May 6 

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau,  May 5

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 © 2009-2024

 

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