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 cool peep of the
robin calling to its young
now learning to fly.
Crows with ragged wings
noiselessly circle their nest
high in a white pine.
A strong wind all day
impossible to hear birds
or keep your hat on.
June 10, 2016
Another great fog this morning. June 10, 1853
Haying commencing in front yards. June 10, 1853
Haying commencing in front yards. June 10, 1853
That common grass (June-grass), which was in blossom a fortnight since, and still on our bank, began a week ago to turn white here and there, killed by worms. June 10, 1855
The fuzzy seeds or down of the black (?) willows is filling the air over the river and, falling on the water, covers the surface. June 10, 1853
By the 30th of May, at least, white maple keys were falling. How early, then, they had matured their seed! June 10, 1853
Cool but agreeable easterly wind. June 10, 1853
8 A. M. — Getting lily pads opposite Badger’s. June 10, 1856
Already the pads are much eaten before they are grown, and underneath, on the under side of almost every one, are the eggs of various species of insect, some so minute as to escape detection at first, in close, flat, straight-sided nests. June 10, 1856
The yellow lily and kalmiana are abundantly out. The undersides of the pads, their stems, and the Ranunculus Purshii and other water-plants are thickly covered and defiled with the sloughs, perhaps of those little fuzzy gnats (in their first state) which have so swarmed over the river. It is quite difficult to clean your specimens of them. June 10, 1856
In Julius Smith's yard, a striped snake (so called) was running about this forenoon, and in the afternoon it was found to have shed its slough, leaving it half way out a hole, which probably it used to confine it in. It was about in its new skin. June 10, 1857
Many creatures — devil's- needles, etc., etc. — cast their sloughs now. Can't I? June 10, 1857
Another showery day, or rather shower threatening. June 10, 1860
A very strong northwest wind, and cold. At 6 P.M. it was 58º. This, with wind, makes a very cold day at this season. Yet I do not need fire in the house. June 10, 1860
A remarkably strong wind from the southwest all day, racking the trees very much and filling the air with dust. I do not remember such violent and incessant gusts at this season. June 10, 1855
Many eggs, if not young, must have been shaken out of birds’ nests, for I hear of some fallen. June 10, 1855
It is almost impossible to hear birds— or to keep your hat on. The waves are like those of March. June 10, 1855
Farmer tells me to-day that he has seen a regular barn swallow with forked tail about his barn, which was black, not rufous; also of an owl's nest in a pine, the young probably two or three weeks old. June 10, 1857
The fuzzy seeds or down of the black (?) willows is filling the air over the river and, falling on the water, covers the surface. June 10, 1853
By the 30th of May, at least, white maple keys were falling. How early, then, they had matured their seed! June 10, 1853
Cool but agreeable easterly wind. June 10, 1853
8 A. M. — Getting lily pads opposite Badger’s. June 10, 1856
Already the pads are much eaten before they are grown, and underneath, on the under side of almost every one, are the eggs of various species of insect, some so minute as to escape detection at first, in close, flat, straight-sided nests. June 10, 1856
The yellow lily and kalmiana are abundantly out. The undersides of the pads, their stems, and the Ranunculus Purshii and other water-plants are thickly covered and defiled with the sloughs, perhaps of those little fuzzy gnats (in their first state) which have so swarmed over the river. It is quite difficult to clean your specimens of them. June 10, 1856
In Julius Smith's yard, a striped snake (so called) was running about this forenoon, and in the afternoon it was found to have shed its slough, leaving it half way out a hole, which probably it used to confine it in. It was about in its new skin. June 10, 1857
Many creatures — devil's- needles, etc., etc. — cast their sloughs now. Can't I? June 10, 1857
Another showery day, or rather shower threatening. June 10, 1860
A very strong northwest wind, and cold. At 6 P.M. it was 58º. This, with wind, makes a very cold day at this season. Yet I do not need fire in the house. June 10, 1860
A remarkably strong wind from the southwest all day, racking the trees very much and filling the air with dust. I do not remember such violent and incessant gusts at this season. June 10, 1855
Many eggs, if not young, must have been shaken out of birds’ nests, for I hear of some fallen. June 10, 1855
It is almost impossible to hear birds— or to keep your hat on. The waves are like those of March. June 10, 1855
Farmer tells me to-day that he has seen a regular barn swallow with forked tail about his barn, which was black, not rufous; also of an owl's nest in a pine, the young probably two or three weeks old. June 10, 1857
The young owls are gone. June 10, 1855
Chewink’s nest with four young in the dry sprout-land of Loring’s thick wood that was, under a completely overarching tuft of dry sedge grass. June 10, 1856
In a hollow apple tree, hole eighteen inches deep, young pigeon woodpeckers, large and well feathered. They utter their squeaking hiss whenever I cover the hole with my hand, apparently taking it for the approach of the mother. A strong, rank fetid smell issues from the hole. June 10, 1856
A Maryland yellow-throat's nest near apple tree by the low path beyond the pear tree. Saw a bird flit away low and stealthily through the birches, and was soon invisible. Did not discover the nest till after a long search. Perfectly concealed under the loose withered grass at the base of a clump of birches, with no apparent entrance. The usual small deep nest (but not raised up) of dry leaves, fine grass stubble, and lined with a little hair. Four eggs, white, with brown spots, chiefly at larger end, and some small black specks or scratches. The bird flits out very low and swiftly and does not show herself, so that it is hard to find the nest or to identify the bird. June 10, 1858
The cuckoo of June 5th has deserted her nest, and I find the fragments of egg-shells in it; probably because I found it. June 10, 1856
Cut a line [surveying] in a thick wood that passed within two feet of a blue jay's nest about four feet up a birch, quite exposed beneath the leafy branches. The bird sat perfectly still upon its large young with its head up and bill open, not moving in the least, while we drove a stake close by, within three feet, and cut and measured, being about there twenty minutes at least. June 10, 1859
See probably a crow's nest high in a white pine, two crows with ragged wings circling high over it and me, not noisy. June 10, 1854
A catbird’s nest of usual construction, one egg, two feet high on a swamp-pink; an old nest of same near by on same. June 10, 1855
Oven-bird’s nest with four eggs two thirds hatched, under dry leaves, composed of pine-needles and dry leaves and a hair or two for lining, about six feet south west of a white oak which is six rods southwest of the hawk pine. June 10, 1855
Nest of the Muscicapa Cooperi, or pe pe, on a white spruce in the Holden Swamp, about fifteen feet high, on a small branch near the top, of a few twigs and pine-needles, and an abundance of usnea mainly composing and lining and overflowing from it, very open beneath and carelessly built, with a small concavity; with three eggs pretty fresh, but apparently all told, cream-color before blowing, with a circle of brown spots about larger end. The female looked darker beneath than a kingbird and uttered that clear plaintive till tilt, like a robin somewhat, sitting on a spruce. June 10, 1855
C. finds an egg to-day, somewhat like a song sparrow’s, but a little longer and slenderer, or with less difference between the ends in form, and more finely and regularly spotted all over with pale brown. -It was in a pensile nest of grape-vine bark, on the low branch of a maple. Probably a cowbird’s; fresh-laid. June 10, 1855
He has found in nests of grass in thick bushes near river what he thought red-wing’s eggs, but they are pale-blue with large black blotches — one with a very I large black spot on one side. Can they be bobolinks? or what? Probably red-wings.June 10, 1855
My partridge still sits on seven eggs. June 10, 1855
I hear the huckleberry-bird now add to its usual strain a-tea tea tea tea tea. June 10, 1856
Cornus alternifolia a day or two, up railroad; maybe longer elsewhere. June 10, 1856
Spergularia rubra by railroad, it having been dug up last year, and so delayed. June 10, 1856
The clustered blackberry of Dugan Desert not yet out, nor apparently for two or three days. June 10, 1856
See probably a crow's nest high in a white pine, two crows with ragged wings circling high over it and me, not noisy. June 10, 1854
A catbird’s nest of usual construction, one egg, two feet high on a swamp-pink; an old nest of same near by on same. June 10, 1855
Nest of the Muscicapa Cooperi, or pe pe, on a white spruce in the Holden Swamp, about fifteen feet high, on a small branch near the top, of a few twigs and pine-needles, and an abundance of usnea mainly composing and lining and overflowing from it, very open beneath and carelessly built, with a small concavity; with three eggs pretty fresh, but apparently all told, cream-color before blowing, with a circle of brown spots about larger end. The female looked darker beneath than a kingbird and uttered that clear plaintive till tilt, like a robin somewhat, sitting on a spruce. June 10, 1855
C. finds an egg to-day, somewhat like a song sparrow’s, but a little longer and slenderer, or with less difference between the ends in form, and more finely and regularly spotted all over with pale brown. -It was in a pensile nest of grape-vine bark, on the low branch of a maple. Probably a cowbird’s; fresh-laid. June 10, 1855
He has found in nests of grass in thick bushes near river what he thought red-wing’s eggs, but they are pale-blue with large black blotches — one with a very I large black spot on one side. Can they be bobolinks? or what? Probably red-wings.June 10, 1855
My partridge still sits on seven eggs. June 10, 1855
I hear the huckleberry-bird now add to its usual strain a-tea tea tea tea tea. June 10, 1856
Cornus alternifolia a day or two, up railroad; maybe longer elsewhere. June 10, 1856
Spergularia rubra by railroad, it having been dug up last year, and so delayed. June 10, 1856
The clustered blackberry of Dugan Desert not yet out, nor apparently for two or three days. June 10, 1856
Ripe strawberries, even in a meadow on sand thrown out of a ditch, hard at first to detect amid the red radical leaves. The flower-buds of late there have now that rank smell. June 10, 1856
Plenty of huckleberries and barberries here. June 10, 1853
The Cratoegus Crus-Galli is out of bloom. June 10, 1856
Arenaria serpyllifolia is out of bloom at Clamshell.June 10, 1856
Side-flowering sandwort abundantly out this side of Dugan Spring. June 10, 1856
Solanum well out, by Wood’s Bridge. June 10, 1856
June 10, 2018
There is much handsome interrupted fern in the Painted-Cup Meadow, and near the top of one of the clumps we noticed something like a large cocoon, the color of the rusty cinnamon fern wool. June 10, 1860
It was a red bat, the New York bat, so called. June 10, 1860
It hung suspended, head directly downward, with its little sharp claws or hooks caught through one of the divisions at the base of one of the pinnæ, above the fructification. June 10, 1860
I cannot but think that its instinct taught it to cling to the interrupted fern, since it might readily be mistaken for a mass of its fruit. June 10, 1860
The bay-wing sparrow apparently is not my seringo, after all. What is the seringo? I see some with clear, dirty-yellow breasts, but others, as to-day, with white breasts, dark-streaked. Both have the yellow over eye and the white line on crown, and agree in size, but I have seen only one with distinct yellow on wings. Both the last, i. e. except only the bay-wing, utter the seringo note. Are they both yellow-winged sparrows? or is the white-breasted with streaks the Savannah sparrow? June 10, 1854
Side-saddle generally out; petals hang down. It is a conspicuous flower. June 10, 1854
The fragrance of the arethusa is like that of the lady's-slipper, or pleasanter. June 10, 1854
At R.W.E.'s a viburnum, apparently nudum var. cassinoides (?) June 10, 1857
The Viburnum lentago is just out of bloom now that the V. nudum is fairly begun. June 10, 1854
Sweet Viburnum apparently two or three days at most, by Warren Miles’s, Nut Meadow Pond. June 10, 1856
Veronica scutellata, apparently a day or two. June 10, 1855
Iris versicolor, also a day or two. June 10, 1855
Clintonia, apparently four or five days (not out at Hubbard’s Close the 4th). June 10, 1855
Some Viola cucullata are now nine inches high, and leaves nearly two inches wide. June 10, 1855
Archangelica staminiferous umbellets, say yesterday, but some, apparently only pistilliferous ones, look some days at least older; seed-vessel pretty large. June 10, 1855
The Kalmia glauca is done before the lambkill is begun here; apparently was done some days ago.June 10, 1855
Lambkill out, at Clamshell. June 10, 1856
A very few rhodoras linger. June 10, 1855
Clintonia, apparently four or five days (not out at Hubbard’s Close the 4th). June 10, 1855
Some Viola cucullata are now nine inches high, and leaves nearly two inches wide. June 10, 1855
Archangelica staminiferous umbellets, say yesterday, but some, apparently only pistilliferous ones, look some days at least older; seed-vessel pretty large. June 10, 1855
The Kalmia glauca is done before the lambkill is begun here; apparently was done some days ago.June 10, 1855
Lambkill out, at Clamshell. June 10, 1856
A very few rhodoras linger. June 10, 1855
Cow-wheat out, and Iris Virginica, and the grape.
Common blue flag, how long? June 10, 1858
Smilacina racemosa well out, how long? June 10, 1858
Oxalis freshly out: how long? Apparently but two or three days. June 10, 1856
Smilacina racemosa well out, how long? June 10, 1858
Oxalis freshly out: how long? Apparently but two or three days. June 10, 1856
I find some linnaea well out, after all, within a rod of the top of the hill, apparently two or three days. If it flowered more abundantly, probably it would be earlier. June 10, 1856
The black spruce which I plucked on the 2d expanded a loose, rather light brown cone on the 5th, say. Can that be the pistillate flower? June 10, 1855
The white spruce cones are now a rich dark purple, more than a half inch long. June 10, 1855
A red maple leaf with those crimson spots. June 10, 1855
The Leucothoe racemosa, not yet generally out, but a little (it being mostly killed) a day or two. June 10, 1857
A wood tortoise making a hole for her eggs just like a picta's hole. June 10, 1857
A painted tortoise laying her eggs ten feet from the wheel-track on the Marlborough road. She paused at first, but I sat down within two feet, and she soon resumed her work. Had excavated a hollow about five inches wide and six long in the moistened sand, and cautiously, with long intervals, she continued her work, resting always on the same spot her fore feet, and never looking round, her eye shut all but a narrow slit. June 10, 1856
Whenever I moved, perhaps to brush off a mosquito, she paused. A wagon approached, rumbling afar off, and then there was a pause, till it had passed and long, long after, a tedious, naturlangsam pause of the slow-blooded creature, a sacrifice of time such as those animals are up to which slumber half a year and live for centuries. June 10, 1856
It was twenty minutes before I discovered that she was not making the hole but filling it up slowly, having laid her eggs. She drew the moistened sand under herself, scraping it along from behind with both feet brought together, the claws turned inward. In the long pauses the ants troubled her (as mosquitoes me) by running over her eyes, which made her snap or dart out her head suddenly, striking the shell. She did not dance on the sand, nor finish covering the hollow quite so carefully as the one observed last year. June 10, 1856
She went off suddenly (and quickly at first), with a slow but sure instinct through the wood toward the swamp. June 10, 1856
See a painted turtle digging her nest in the road at 5.45 P. M. June 10, 1858
At the west bank, by the bathing-place, I see that several turtles’ holes have already been opened and the eggs destroyed by the skunk or other animal. Some of them — I judge by the size of the egg — are Emys insculpta's eggs. June 10, 1858
One E. insculpta is digging there about 7 P. M. June 10, 1858
Apparently the E. insculpta are in the very midst of their laying now. June 10, 1858
I found an E. insculpta on its back with its head and feet drawn in and motionless, and what looked like the track of a crow on the sand. Undoubtedly the bird which I saw had been pecking at it, and perhaps they get many of the eggs. June 10, 1858
Now, methinks, the birds begin to sing less tumultuously, with, as the weather grows more constantly warm, morning and noon and evening songs, and suitable recesses in the concert. June 10, 1853
As C. and I go through the town, we hear the cool peep of the robin calling to its young, now learning to fly. June 10, 1853
The locust bloom is now perfect, filling the street with its sweetness, but it is more agreeable to my eye than my nose. June 10, 1853
Streets now beautiful with verdure and shade of elms, under which you look, through an air clear for summer, to the woods in the horizon. June 10, 1853
The black spruce which I plucked on the 2d expanded a loose, rather light brown cone on the 5th, say. Can that be the pistillate flower? June 10, 1855
The white spruce cones are now a rich dark purple, more than a half inch long. June 10, 1855
A red maple leaf with those crimson spots. June 10, 1855
The Leucothoe racemosa, not yet generally out, but a little (it being mostly killed) a day or two. June 10, 1857
A wood tortoise making a hole for her eggs just like a picta's hole. June 10, 1857
A painted tortoise laying her eggs ten feet from the wheel-track on the Marlborough road. She paused at first, but I sat down within two feet, and she soon resumed her work. Had excavated a hollow about five inches wide and six long in the moistened sand, and cautiously, with long intervals, she continued her work, resting always on the same spot her fore feet, and never looking round, her eye shut all but a narrow slit. June 10, 1856
Whenever I moved, perhaps to brush off a mosquito, she paused. A wagon approached, rumbling afar off, and then there was a pause, till it had passed and long, long after, a tedious, naturlangsam pause of the slow-blooded creature, a sacrifice of time such as those animals are up to which slumber half a year and live for centuries. June 10, 1856
It was twenty minutes before I discovered that she was not making the hole but filling it up slowly, having laid her eggs. She drew the moistened sand under herself, scraping it along from behind with both feet brought together, the claws turned inward. In the long pauses the ants troubled her (as mosquitoes me) by running over her eyes, which made her snap or dart out her head suddenly, striking the shell. She did not dance on the sand, nor finish covering the hollow quite so carefully as the one observed last year. June 10, 1856
She went off suddenly (and quickly at first), with a slow but sure instinct through the wood toward the swamp. June 10, 1856
See a painted turtle digging her nest in the road at 5.45 P. M. June 10, 1858
At the west bank, by the bathing-place, I see that several turtles’ holes have already been opened and the eggs destroyed by the skunk or other animal. Some of them — I judge by the size of the egg — are Emys insculpta's eggs. June 10, 1858
One E. insculpta is digging there about 7 P. M. June 10, 1858
Apparently the E. insculpta are in the very midst of their laying now. June 10, 1858
I found an E. insculpta on its back with its head and feet drawn in and motionless, and what looked like the track of a crow on the sand. Undoubtedly the bird which I saw had been pecking at it, and perhaps they get many of the eggs. June 10, 1858
Now, methinks, the birds begin to sing less tumultuously, with, as the weather grows more constantly warm, morning and noon and evening songs, and suitable recesses in the concert. June 10, 1853
As C. and I go through the town, we hear the cool peep of the robin calling to its young, now learning to fly. June 10, 1853
The locust bloom is now perfect, filling the street with its sweetness, but it is more agreeable to my eye than my nose. June 10, 1853
Streets now beautiful with verdure and shade of elms, under which you look, through an air clear for summer, to the woods in the horizon. June 10, 1853
*****
See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau:
The Field Sparrow (huckleberry-bird)
*****
June 10, 2016
We hear the cool peep of the robin calling to its young, now learning to fly. See May 24, 1855 ("Young robins some time hatched. "):June 9, 1856 ("A young robin abroad."); June 15, 1852 ("Young robins, dark-speckled"): June 15, 1855 ("Robin’s nest in apple tree, twelve feet high — young nearly grown"): June 18, 1854 ("I think I heard the anxious peep of a robin whose young have just left the nest. ):
Smilacina racemosa well out, how long? See October 10, 1857 ("I see in the woods some Smilacina racemosa leaves [false solomon's seal] . . . The whole plant gracefully bent almost horizontally with the weight of its dense raceme of bright cherry-red berries at the end.”); September 18, 1856 ("Smilacina berries of both kinds now commonly ripe");September 1, 1856 ("The very dense clusters of the smilacina berries, finely purple-dotted on a pearly ground"); and note to June 19, 1856 ("Looked at a collection of the rarer plants made by Higginson and placed at the Natural History Rooms.)
The usual small deep nest of dry leaves, fine grass stubble, and lined with a little hair. Four eggs, white, with brown spots, chiefly at larger end, and some small black specks or scratches. See June 7, 1857 (“A nest well made outside of leaves, then grass, lined with fine grass, very deep and narrow, with thick sides, with four small somewhat cream-colored eggs with small brown and some black spots chiefly toward larger end.”); June 8, 1855 ("What was that little nest on the ridge near by, made of fine grass lined with a few hairs and containing five small eggs ... nearly as broad as long, yet pointed, white with fine dull-brown spots especially on the large end—nearly hatched? The nest in the dry grass under a shrub, remarkably concealed. . . .—It is a Maryland yellow-throat.”)
The usual small deep nest of dry leaves, fine grass stubble, and lined with a little hair. Four eggs, white, with brown spots, chiefly at larger end, and some small black specks or scratches. See June 7, 1857 (“A nest well made outside of leaves, then grass, lined with fine grass, very deep and narrow, with thick sides, with four small somewhat cream-colored eggs with small brown and some black spots chiefly toward larger end.”); June 8, 1855 ("What was that little nest on the ridge near by, made of fine grass lined with a few hairs and containing five small eggs ... nearly as broad as long, yet pointed, white with fine dull-brown spots especially on the large end—nearly hatched? The nest in the dry grass under a shrub, remarkably concealed. . . .—It is a Maryland yellow-throat.”)
A wood tortoise making a hole for her eggs just like a picta's hole.-- A painted tortoise laying her eggs ten feet from the wheel-track on the Marlborough road. She did not dance on the sand, nor finish covering the hollow quite so carefully as the one observed last year. __ See a painted turtle digging her nest in the road at 5.45 P. M. See June 7, 1854 (“Yesterday I saw the painted and the wood tortoise out. Now I see a snapping turtle. . . It had just been excavating”);; June 16, 1855 ("A painted tortoise just burying three flesh-colored eggs . . . Find near by four more about this business.”); June 18, 1855 (“a painted tortoise lays her eggs near the Leaning Hemlocks. . . after a slight pause it proceeds in its work, directly under and within eighteen inches of my face.”; June 28, 1860 (“I see no tortoises laying nowadays, but I meet to-day with a wood tortoise which is eating the leaves of the early potentilla, and, soon after, another . . .deliberately eating sorrel.”)
The Leucothoe racemosa, not yet generally out, but a little (it being mostly killed) a day or two. See note to June 3, 1857 (“The racemed andromeda (Leucothoe) has been partly killed, — the extremities of the twigs, — so that its racemes are imperfect.”)
Many creatures — devil's- needles, etc., etc. — cast their sloughs now. See June 10, 1856 (“[W]ater-plants are thickly covered and defiled with the sloughs, perhaps of those little fuzzy gnats (in their first state) which have so swarmed over the river.”); June 6, 1857 (“[S]ee many great devil's-needles . . . stationary on twigs, etc. . . . their eyes . . . whitish and opaque . . . evidently just escaped from the slough.”)
Many creatures — devil's- needles, etc., etc. — cast their sloughs now. See June 10, 1856 (“[W]ater-plants are thickly covered and defiled with the sloughs, perhaps of those little fuzzy gnats (in their first state) which have so swarmed over the river.”); June 6, 1857 (“[S]ee many great devil's-needles . . . stationary on twigs, etc. . . . their eyes . . . whitish and opaque . . . evidently just escaped from the slough.”)
A blue jay’s nest about four feet up a birch. See June 8, 1855 ("A jay’s nest with three young half fledged in a white pine, six feet high, by the Ingraham cellar, made of coarse sticks.”); June 5, 1856 (“A blue jay’s nest on a white pine, eight feet from ground, next to the stem, of twigs lined with root-fibres; three fresh eggs, dark dull greenish, with dusky spots equally distributed all over”)
My partridge still sits on seven eggs. See May 26, 1855 ("The partridge which on the 12th had left three cold eggs covered up with oak leaves is now sitting on eight.")
What is the seringo? See 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 note to 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.")
Yellow-winged sparrows or white-breasted with streaks the Savannah sparrow? See June 12, 1854 ("Do I not see two birds with the seringo note, — the Savannah (?) sparrow, larger with not so bright a yellow over eye, none on wing, and white breast, and beneath former streaked with dark and perhaps a dark spot, and the smaller yellow-winged, with spot on wing also and ochreous breast and throat ? The first sings che che rar, che ra- a-a-a-a-ar."); July 16, 1854 ("Is it the yellow-winged or Savannah sparrow with yellow alternating with dark streaks on throat, as well as yellow over eye, reddish flesh-colored legs, and two light bars on wings?“)” and note to June 26, 1856 ("Audubon says that the eggs of the Savannah sparrow “are of a pale bluish color, softly mottled with purplish brown,” and those of the yellow-winged sparrow are “of a dingy white, sprinkled with brown spots.”")
Yellow-winged sparrows or white-breasted with streaks the Savannah sparrow? See June 12, 1854 ("Do I not see two birds with the seringo note, — the Savannah (?) sparrow, larger with not so bright a yellow over eye, none on wing, and white breast, and beneath former streaked with dark and perhaps a dark spot, and the smaller yellow-winged, with spot on wing also and ochreous breast and throat ? The first sings che che rar, che ra- a-a-a-a-ar."); July 16, 1854 ("Is it the yellow-winged or Savannah sparrow with yellow alternating with dark streaks on throat, as well as yellow over eye, reddish flesh-colored legs, and two light bars on wings?“)” and note to June 26, 1856 ("Audubon says that the eggs of the Savannah sparrow “are of a pale bluish color, softly mottled with purplish brown,” and those of the yellow-winged sparrow are “of a dingy white, sprinkled with brown spots.”")
The meadows now begin to be yellow with senecio. See May 23, 1853 ("I am surprised by the dark orange-yellow of the senecio. . . .this broad distinction between the buttercup and the senecio, as the seasons revolve toward July. Every new flower that opens, no doubt, expresses a new mood of the human mind. “)
Oven-bird’s nest with four eggs. See Early June, 1850; ("Who taught the oven-bird to conceal her nest ? It is on the ground, yet out of sight . . . .Only the escape of the bird betrays it."); June 1, 1853 ("Eggs in oven- bird's nest.”); June 18, 1854 (Observe in two places golden-crowned thrushes, near whose nests I must have been, hopping on the lower branches and in the underwood, — a somewhat sparrow-like bird, with its golden-brown crest and white circle about eye, carrying the tail somewhat like a wren, and inclined to run along the branches.”); July 3, 1853 ("The oven-bird's nest in Laurel Glen is near the edge of an open pine wood, under a fallen pine twig and a heap of dry oak leaves. Within these, on the ground, is the nest, with a dome-like top and an arched entrance of the whole height and width on one side. Lined within with dry pine-needles.”)
A crow’s nest high in a white pine. See May 11, 1855 ("It is most impressive when, looking for their nests, you first detect the presence of the bird by its shadow.”)
Warren Miles's, Nut Meadow Pond . . . See May 7, 1856 ("The brook below is full of fishes,--suckers, pouts, eels, trouts,-- endeavoring to get up, but his dam prevents."); April 28, 1856 ("I began to survey the meadow there early, . . .but a great stream of water was already rushing down the brook, and it almost rose over our boots in the meadow before we had done.”); April 25, 1856 ("Warren Miles had caught three more snapping turtles since yesterday, at his mill, . . . These turtles have been disturbed or revealed by his operations.”); April 24 1856 (Warren Miles at his new mill tells me eels can’t get above his mill now, in the spring.”); February 28, 1856 ("Miles is repairing the damage done at his new mill by the dam giving way.”)
The Kalmia glauca is done before the lambkill is begun here --Lambkill out, at Clamshell. See June 9, 1855 ("Lambkill out."); June 11, 1859 ("Lambkill flower. ");June 13, 1854 ("How beautiful the solid cylinders of the lamb-kill now just before sunset.);June 13, 1858 ("To Ledum Swamp. Lambkill, maybe one day.");June 13, 1852 ("Lambkill is out. I remember with what delight I used to discover this flower in dewy mornings.")
Ripe strawberries . . .amid the red radical leaves. See June 14, 1859 ("Early strawberries begin to be common. The lower leaves of the plant are red, concealing the fruit."); June 15, 1853 ("Strawberries in the meadow now ready for the picker. They lie deep at the roots of the grass in the shade. You spread aside the tall grass, and deep down in little cavities by the roots of the grass you find this rich fruit.”)
Streets now beautiful with verdure and shade of elms, under which you look, through an air clear for summer, to the woods in the horizon. See June 2, 1852 ("The elms now hold a good deal of shade and look rich and heavy with foliage. You see darkness in them."); June 9, 1856 ("Now I notice where an elm is in the shadow of a cloud,—the black elm-tops and shadows of June. It is a dark eyelash which suggests a flashing eye beneath")
June 10, 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.
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, June 10
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau
"A book, each page written in its own season,
out-of-doors, in its own locality."
~edited, assembled and rewritten by zphx © 2009-2023
https://tinyurl.com/HDT10June
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