A Book of the Seasons: June 30 (blue flag, haymaking, heat, a sea-breeze, evening and starlight, a full moon, waterbugs)

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

 June 30 

Early raspberries –

light red semitransparent

showing the seed — scarce.

June 30, 1854

The nature lover

preeminently is a

lover of man.

June 30, 1852

Two men spoke of loon’s 

eggs on a rocky isle in 

Little Quitticus. 

June 30, 1856

The pads blown up by 

cooler northerly wind show 

crimson already.

June 30, 1859

Coolness continues

and the sky is full of clouds

but it does not rain.

June 30, 1857

Brilliant and fair the

fields woods and meadows seen through 

sparkling breezy air.

June 30, 1860

Shadows under the

edge of woods are less noticed

now woods are darker.

June 30, 1860

Oppressively warm,

haymakers are mowing now

in early twilight.

June 30, 1851

See a haymaker

with suspenders crossed before 

as well as behind. 

June 30, 1856

The lark sings a note 

which belongs to New England

summer evenings.

June 30, 1851

The bright curves made by

water-bugs in the moonlight

now at 9 o'clock.

June 30, 1852

June 30, 2018

Rubus triflorus berries, some time, — the earliest fruit of a rubus.The berries are very scarce, light red, semitransparent, showing the seed, — a few (six to ten) large shining grains and rather acid. June 30, 1854

Two men spoke of loon’s eggs on a rocky isle in Little Quitticus. June 30, 1856

The pads blown up by it already show crimson, it is so strong, but this not a fall phenomenon yet. June 30, 1859

The coolness continues, and this morning the sky is full of clouds, but they look to me like dog-day clouds and not rain-threatening. June 30, 1857

It is a world of glossy leaves and grassy fields and meads. June 30, 1860

The foliage of deciduous trees is now so nearly as dark as evergreens that I am not struck by the contrast. June 30, 1860

The shadows under the edge of woods are less noticed now because the woods themselves are darker. June 30, 1860

Seen through this clear, sparkling, breezy air, the fields, woods, and meadows are very brilliant and fair. June 30, 1860

Haying has commenced. June 30,1851

Haying has commenced. June 30, 1852

Saw a haymaker with his suspenders crossed before as well as behind. A valuable hint, which I think I shall improve upon, June 30, 1856

I see the farmers in distant fields cocking their hay now at six o'clock. June 30,1851

The day has been so oppressively warm that some workmen have lain by at noon, and the haymakers are mowing now in the early twilight. June 30,1851

Moon nearly full; rose a little before sunset . . . At first a mere white cloud. June 30, 1852

It is starlight about half an hour after sunset to-night; i. e. the first stars appear. June 30, 1852

The moon is now brighter, but not so yellowish.  June 30, 1852

Ten or fifteen minutes after, the fireflies are observed, at first about the willows on the Causeway, where the evening is further advanced. June 30, 1852

 It is Sunday night. After dinner we walk to the view and back. The sun is setting through the trees at the house. On the trail in the woods and on the cliffs are those orangey spots. But it has set well before we get there I’m surprised the air is so clear and clean a pleasant northwest wind at thunderhead perhaps on the north horizon. The sun is setting orange. Dirty orange and one moment I think I see different layers of orange  I get one good picture that captures the colors. We sit longer than planned then head back the usual way in the dusk without headlamps   And press it all the way home after dark using the luminescent paint along the trails to guide us now accompanied by a myriad fireflies We would never seen the fireflies dancing in the woods and over the trail using a headlamp  

June 30, 2019

Fireflies in the night 

dance in the woods and trails– we 

walk without headlight 

June 30, 2019

June 29 <<<<< June 30 >>>>> July 1 

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, June 30

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 

Is not June the month when most of our fresh water fish are spawned?

June 30. Monday. 

June 30.

A. M. — To Middleborough ponds in the new town of Lakeville (some three years old). 

What a miserable name! It should have been Assawampsett or, perchance, Sanacus, if that was the name of the Christian Indian killed on the pond.

By the roadside, Long Plain, North Fairhaven, observed a tupelo seven feet high with a rounded top, shaped like an umbrella, eight feet diameter, spreading over the wall, and the main stem divided suddenly at two feet only below the top, where it was six inches in diameter! 

On the right hand in the old orchard near the Quitticus Ponds, heard and at last saw my tweezer-bird, which is extremely restless, flitting from bough to bough and apple tree to apple tree. Its note like ah, zre zre zre, zritter zritter zrit’. Sylvia Americana, parti-colored warbler, with golden-green reflections on the back, two white bars on wings, all beneath white, large orange mark on breast, bordered broadly with lemon yellow, and yellow throat. These were making the woods ring in Concord when I left and are very common here abouts. 

Saw a haymaker with his suspenders crossed before as well as behind. A valuable hint, which I think I shall improve upon, since I am much troubled by mine slipping off my shoulders. 

Borrowed Roberts’s boat, shaped like a pumpkin seed, for we wished to paddle on Great Quitticus. We landed and lunched on Haskell’s Island, which contains some twenty-five or thirty acres. 

Just beyond this was Reed’s Island, which was formerly cultivated, the cattle being swum across, or taken over in a scow. A man praised the soil to me and said that rye enough had been raised on it to cover it six inches deep. 

At one end of Haskell’s Island was apparently a piece of primitive wood,—beech, hemlock, etc. Under the first I found some low, dry brown plants, perhaps beech drops and the like, two species, but saw none of this year. One who formerly owned Reed’s Island said that a man once lived on Haskell’s Island and had a hennery there. 

The tweezer-birds were lively in the hemlocks.

Rode on to the old Pond Meeting-house, whence there is a fine view of Assawampsett. It is probably the broadest lake in the State. Uriah (?) Sampson told me it was about eight or ten feet deep in the middle, but somewhat deeper about the sides. The main outlet of these ponds is northeast, by Taunton River, though there is some connection with the Mattapoisett River, and Assonet River drains the neighborhood of Long Pond on the west. 

Two men spoke of loon’s eggs on a rocky isle in Little Quitticus. I saw the Lobelia Dortmarma in bloom in the last.

A Southwest breeze springs up every afternoon at this season, comparatively cool and refreshing from the sea. 

As we were returning, a Mr. Sampson was catching perch at the outlet from Long Pond, where it emptied into Assawampsett with a swift current. The surface of the rippling water there was all alive with yellow perch and white ones, whole schools showing their snouts or tails as they rose for the young alewives which appeared to be passing out of the brook. These, some of which I have in spirits, were about an inch and a half long. Sampson fished with these for bait, trailing or jerking it along the surface exactly as for pickerel, and the perch bit very fast. He showed me one white perch. It was a broader fish than the yellow, but much softer-scaled and generally preferred. He said they would not take the hook after a certain season. He swept out some young alewives (herring) with a stick on to the shore, and among them were young yellow perch also an inch and a half long, with the transverse bands perfectly distinct. I have some in spirit. The large ones were devouring these, no doubt, together with the ale wives. 

Is not June the month when most of our fresh water fish are spawned?

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, June 30, 1856

The new town of Lakeville (some three years old).Lakeville was incorporated as a separate town in 1853. The town's name comes from the system of lakes in the town, including Assawompset Pond, Great Quittacas Pond, Little Quittacas Pond, Pocksha Pond, and Long Pond. Long Pond is the source of the Acushnet River, and Assawompsett Pond is the source of the Nemasket River, which feeds the Taunton River ~ Wikipedia

Tweezer-bird, or Sylvia Americana, parti-colored warbler, . . . were making the woods ring in Concord when I left and are very common here abouts. See June 22, 1856 ("The woods still resound with the note of my tweezer-bird, or Sylvia Americana."). See also note to May 13, 1856.

A Southwest breeze springs up every afternoon at this season, comparatively cool and refreshing from the sea. See  June 30,1855 ("2 P. M. -- Thermometer north side of house, 95°");.June 30, 1857 ("Remarkably cool, with wind, it being easterly, and I anticipated a sea-turn."); June 30, 1859 ("Cooler, with a northerly wind."); See also April 28, 1856(" ...on our return the wind changed to easterly, and I felt the cool, fresh sea-breeze."); April 30, 1856 ("at one o’clock there was the usual fresh easterly wind and sea-turn . . .and a fresh cool wind from the sea produces a mist in the air.") See also A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Sea-turn

A Book of the Seasons: June 29 (heat, bathing, lily pads, luna moth, thundershowers)

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

June 29 

The red undersides

of the white lily pads

exposed by the wind.

June 29, 1852

June 29, 2015

Small rough sunflower, the common, at Bittern Cliff. June 29, 1857

Where I took shelter under the rock at Lee's Cliff, a phoebe has built her nest, and it now has five eggs in it, nearly fresh. June 29, 1857 

The wind exposes the red under sides of the white lily pads. This is one of the aspects of the river now. June 29, 1852

Nature never appears more serene and innocent and fragrant. A hundred white lilies, open to the sun, rest on the surface . . . while devil's-needles are glancing over them. June 29, 1852

The frogs and tortoises are striped and spotted for their concealment. The painted tortoise's throat held up above the pads, streaked with yellowish, makes it the less obvious. The mud turtle is the color of the mud, the wood frog and the hylodes of the dead leaves, the bullfrogs of the pads, the toad of the earth. The tree-toad of the bark. June 29, 1852

The river is now whitened with the down of the black willow, and I am surprised to see a minute plant abundantly springing from its midst and greening it, — where it has collected in denser beds against some obstacle as a branch on the surface, — like grass growing in cotton in a tumbler. June 29, 1857

Bathing in the cove by railroad. When I hold my head near the surface and look down, in two or three feet of water, the bottom appears concave, just as the sky does. June 29, 1858

Bathed in the creek, which swarms with terrapins, as the boys called them. June 29, 1856

A man by the riverside told us that he had two young ducks which he let out to seek their food along the riverside at low tide that morning. At length he noticed that one remained stationary amid the grass or salt weeds and something prevented its following the other. He went to its rescue and found its foot shut tightly in a quahog’s shell amid the grass which the tide had left. He took up all together, carried to his house, and his wife opened the shell with a knife, released the duck, and cooked the quahog. June 29, 1856

She opened the shell 

with a knife released the duck 

and cooked the quahog.

June 29, 1856

Bathed again near Dogfish Bar. It was warm and dirty water, muddy bottom. June 29, 1856

All the large black birches on Hubbard's Hill have just been cut down, — half a dozen or more.  June 29, 1854

P. M. — To Walden. Very hot. June 29, 1859. 

Examined the flying squirrel's nest at the base of a small white [oak] or two (sprouts), four inches through, in a small old white oak stump, half open above, just below the level of the ground, composed of quite a mass of old withered oak leaves and a few fresh green ones, and the inside wholly of fine, dry sedge and sedge-like bark-fibres.  The upper side of the nest was half visible from above. It was eight or nine inches across. June 29, 1859

In it I found the wing of an Attacus luna, — and July 1st another wing near Second Division, which makes three between June 27th and July 1st. June 29, 1859

At the railroad spring in Howard's meadow, I see two chestnut-sided warblers hopping and chipping as if they had a nest, within six feet of me, a long time. No doubt they are breeding near. Yellow crown with a fine dark longitudinal line, reddish-chestnut sides, black triangle on side of head, white beneath.  June 29, 1859

At 6 P.M. 91°, the hottest yet. June 29, 1860 

A thunder-shower has passed northeast and grazed us, and at 6.30 or 7, another thunder-shower comes up from the southwest and there is a sudden burst from it with a remarkably strong, gusty wind, and the rain for fifteen minutes falls in a blinding deluge. June 29, 1860 

The roof of the depot shed is taken off, many trees torn to pieces, the garden flooded at once, corn and potatoes, etc., beaten flat. You could not see distinctly many rods through the rain. It was the very strong gusts added to the weight of the rain that did the mischief. I think I never saw it rain so hard. June 29, 1860 

Thus our most violent thunder-shower followed the hottest hour of the month. June 29, 1860 

June 29, 2013 6:23 PM

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau:

Helianthus

Birches in Season

he Propogation of the Willow.

,the Luna Moth (Attacus luna)

 The  Wood Frog (Rana sylvatica)

t the Eastern Phoebe

the Chestnut-sided Warbler

the Flying Squirrel

Lightning

At 6 P.M. 91°, the hottest yet. See June 30, 1855 (“2 P. M. -- Thermometer north side of house, 95°”);  May 24, 1856 ("To-day is suddenly overpowering warm. Thermometer at 1 P. M., 94° in the shade!"); June 21, 1856 (”Very hot day, as was yesterday, -— 98° at 2 P. M., 99° at 3, and 128° in sun”); May 24, 1857(“At 3 p. m. the thermometer is at 88°).

The flying squirrel's nest. See June 19, 1859 ("A flying squirrel's nest . . .south of Walden, on hilltop, in a covered hollow in a small old stump at base of a young oak")

I found the wing of an Attacus luna, three between June 27th and July 1st. See June 27, 1859 ("At the further Brister's Spring, under the pine, I find an Attacus luna, half hidden under a skunk-cabbage leaf, ");  June 27, 1859 ("A frail creature, rarely met with, though not uncommon.")  

The wind exposes the red under sides of the white lily pads. This is one of the aspects of the river now. See June 24, 1853 ("remarkably windy this afternoon, showing the under sides of the leaves and the pads, the white now red beneath and all green above."); June 30, 1859 ("The pads blown up by it already show crimson, it is so strong, but this not a fall phenomenon yet."); July 30, 1856 ("I am struck with the splendid crimson-red under sides of the white lily pads where my boat has turned them, at my bath place near the Hemlocks.”); August 24,1854 ("The bright crimson-red under sides of the great white lily pads, turned up by the wind in broad fields on the sides of the stream, are a great ornament to the stream. It is not till August, methinks, that they are turned up conspicuously.”)

All the large black birches on Hubbard's Hill have just been cut down . . .See  April 24, 1855 ("I see the black birch stumps, where they have cut by Flint’s Pond the past winter, completely covered with a greasy-looking pinkish-colored cream . . ., yet without any particular taste or smell,—what the sap has turned to.")

Surprised to see a minute plant abundantly springing from its midst and greening it, like grass growing in cotton in a tumbler. See June 26, 1860 ("Young black willows have sprouted and put forth their two minute round leafets where the cottony seeds have lodged in a scum against the alder.")

Where I took shelter under the rock at Lee's Cliff . . . See May 29, 1857 ("The drops fall thicker, and I seek a shelter ...under a large projecting portion of the Cliff, where there is ample space above and around, and I can move about as perfectly protected as under a shed.")

At Lee's Cliff a phoebe has built her nest. . .five eggs in it, nearly fresh. . .See May 5, 1860 ("At Lee's a pewee (phoebe) building. . . .Think how many pewees must have built under the eaves of this cliff since pewees were created and this cliff itself built!!");  June 20, 1856  ("Five young phoebes in a nest . . .just ready to fly."); June 25, 1855 ("A phoebe’s nest, with two birds ready to fly."). See also A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Eastern Phoebe

Bathing in the cove by railroad. See July 17, 1860 ('The soft sand on the bottom of Walden, as deep as I can wade, feels very warm to my feet, while the water feels cold. ") and note to July 23, 1856 ("Bathing in Walden, I find the water considerably colder at the bottom while I stand up to my chin, but the sandy bottom much warmer to my feet than the water.")

Just as the sky appears concave. See June 3, 1850 ("The landscape is a vast amphitheatre rising to its rim in the horizon."): June 25, 1852 ("The earth appears like a vast saucer sloping upward to its sharp mountain rim.");  March 28, 1858 (" On ascending the hill next his home, every man finds that he dwells in a shallow concavity whose sheltering walls are the convex surface of the earth, beyond which he cannot see..")

June 29, 2012

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 

June 28 <<<<< June 29 >>>>>  June 30

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, June 29

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 

A man by the riverside.

June 29. 

Sunday. P. M. —Bathed in the creek, which swarms with terrapins, as the boys called them. 

I find no account of them in Storer!! They put their heads out and floated about just like the Emys picta, and often approached and played (?) with each other. Some were apparently seven or eight inches long and of a yellowish color. 

A man by the riverside told us that he had two young ducks which he let out to seek their food along the riverside at low tide that morning. At length he noticed that one remained stationary amid the grass or salt weeds and something prevented its following the other. He went to its rescue and found its foot shut tightly in a quahog’s shell amid the grass which the tide had left. He took up all together, carried to his house, and his wife opened the shell with a knife, released the duck, and cooked the quahog.

Bathed again near Dogfish Bar. It was warm and dirty water, muddy bottom. 

I probably found an Indian’s bone at Throgg’s Point, where their bodies have been dug up. 

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, June 29, 1856

A Book of the Seasons: June 28.

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

 June 28 

The moaning of the 

wind on the rocks, you seem much

nearer to the moon. 

June 28, 1852

Evening. 7 p.m. 

A record of the sunset. 

The moon more than half. 

The sun not yet set. 

Clouds in west edged with fiery red. 

Robins faintly sing. 

Now the sun is down. 

A low mist close to the shore. 

I hear the pea-wai

and the wood thrush and 

now a whip-poor-will before 

I have seen a star. 

Now it is starlight. 

Did that dark cloud conceal the 

evening star before? 

Starlight! Mark the hour. 

When last daylight disappears 

and night (nox) sets in. 

June 28, 1852

One of Mr. Smith's men

thinks the wasps will not sting him

if he holds his breath.

June 28, 1857

I have camped out all night on the tops of four mountains, — Wachusett, Saddle-back, Ktaadn, and Monadnock, — and I usually took a ramble over the summit at midnight by moonlight. June 28, 1852

I remember the moaning of the wind on the rocks, and that you seemed much nearer to the moon than on the plains. June 28, 1852

The light is then in harmony with the scenery. Of what use the sunlight to the mountain-summits? From the cliffs you looked off into vast depths of illumined air.  June 28, 1852

Moon more than half. June 28, 1852

There are meteorologists, but who keeps a record of the fairer sunsets? June 28, 1852

While men are recording the direction of the wind, they neglect to record the beauty of the sunset or the rainbow. June 28, 1852

The sun not yet set. June 28, 1852

The bobolink sings descending to the meadow as I go along the railroad to the pond. June 28, 1852

The seringo-bird and the common song sparrow, — and the swallows twitter. June 28, 1852

The plaintive strain of the lark, coming up from the meadow, is perfectly adapted to the hour. June 28, 1852

Veery and wood thrush not very lately, nor oven-bird.  July 28, 1854. 

When I get nearer the wood, the veery is heard, and the oven-bird, or whet-saw, sounds hollowly from within the recesses of the wood. June 28, 1852

The clouds in the west are edged with fiery red. A few robins faintly sing. June 28, 1852

The huckleberry-bird in more open fields in the woods. The thrasher? June 28, 1852

The sun is down. June 28, 1852

The night-hawks are squeaking in the somewhat dusky air and occasionally making the ripping sound; the chewinks sound; the bullfrogs begin, and the toads; also tree-toads more numerously. June 28, 1852

There is a very low mist on the water close to the shore, a few inches high. June 28, 1852

The moon is brassy or golden now, and the air more dusky; yet I hear the pea-wai and the wood thrush, and now a whip-poor-will before I have seen a star. June 28, 1852

The walker in the woods at this hour takes note of the different veins of air through which he passes. June 28, 1852

Now it is starlight; perhaps that dark cloud in the west has concealed the evening star before. Yet I hear a chewink, veery, and wood thrush. Nighthawks and whip-poor-wills, of course. June 28, 1852

Starlight! That would be a good way to mark the hour, if we were precise. That is an epoch, when the last traces of daylight have disappeared and the night (nox) has fairly set in June 28, 1852

The Rubus odorata, purple flowering raspberry, in gardens. June 28, 1852

Hear and see young golden robins which have left the nest, now peeping with a peculiar tone. June 28, 1855

I hear on all hands these days, from the elms and other trees, the twittering peep of young gold robins, which have recently left their nests, and apparently indicate their locality to their parents by thus incessantly peeping all day long. June 28, 1857

Mountain laurel on east side of the rocky Boulder Field wood is apparently in prime. I see in many places little barberry bushes just come up densely in the cow-dung, like young apple trees, the berries having been eaten by the cows.  June 28, 1858 

I meet to-day with a wood tortoise which is eating the leaves of the early potentilla, and, soon after, another in Hosmer's sandy bank field north of Assabet Bridge, deliberately eating sorrel.  June 28, 1860

*****

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau:

the Wood Turtle (Emys insculpta)

To Know Nature's Moods

 Wood Sorrel

Young Birds

The Savannah Sparrow (Fringilla savanna)

The Wood  Thrush

The Veery

The Kingfisher

The Oven-bird

the Bobolink

the Nighthawk

 the Raspberry

June Moonlight

*****

Starlight!. See August 8, 1851 ("Starlight! that would be a good way to mark the hour, if we were precise.”); May 8, 1852 (“Starlight marks conveniently a stage in the evening, i. e. when the first star can be seen.”); June 30, 1852 (“It is starlight about half an hour after sunset to-night; i. e. the first stars appear”); July 20, 1852("It is starlight. You see the first star in the southwest, and know not how much earlier you might have seen it had you looked.")

Young golden robins July 1, 1859 ("The peculiar peep of young tailless golden robins for a day or more"); July 2, 1860 ("Nowadays hear from my window the constant tittering of young golden robins.")

I see in many places little barberry bushes just come up densely in the cow-dung, like young apple trees, the berries having been eaten by the cows. See May 29, 1858 ("I mistook dense groves of little barberries in the droppings of cows in the Boulder Field for apple trees at first. So the cows eat barberries, and help disperse or disseminate them exactly as they do the apple! That helps account for the spread of the barberry, then."); August 6, 1858 ("I then looked for the little groves of barberries which some two months ago I saw in the cow-dung thereabouts, but to my surprise I found some only in one spot after a long search") See also November 3, 1857 ("I see on many rocks, etc., the seeds of the barberry, which have been voided by birds, – robins, no doubt, chiefly. How many they must thus scatter over the fields, spreading the barberry far and wide!"); February 4, 1856. ("It it now occurs to me that these and barberries, etc., may be planted by the crows, and probably other birds."). Also September 21, 1860 ("I suspect that such seeds as these will turn out to be more sought after by birds and quadrupeds, and so transported by them, than those lighter ones furnished with a pappus and transported by the wind; and that those the wind takes are less generally the food of birds and quadrupeds than the heavier and wingless seeds.")

Another in Hosmer's sandy bank field north of Assabet Bridge, deliberately eating sorrel. See July 6, 1856 ("On the sandy bank opposite [the bath place], see a wood tortoise voraciously eating sorrel leaves, under my face.”)

 

June 28, 2018

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 

  June 27 <<<<< June 28 >>>>> June 29

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, June 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