Ah! those mornings when
awakened in the dawn by
the singing of birds!
Waves of light and shade
over the breadth of the land
sweeping the landscape.
Rich uncut grass-lands
now waving under the wind
waves of light and shade
sweeping the breadth of the land
waves of light and shade
imparting life to the landscape
waves of light and shade
over the breadth of the landscape
pursuing each other
like waves hastening to break on a shore.
July 4, 1860
July 4, 2019
How short the nights! The last traces of day have disappeared much before 10 o'clock or perchance and before 3 A.M. you see them again in the east -- probably 2:30 -- leaving about five hours of night, the sun so soon coming round again. July 4, 1852
The robins sing but not so loud and long as in the spring. I have not been awakened by them latterly in the mornings. July 4, 1852
It is chiefly the spring birds that I hear at this hour, and in each dawn the spring is thus revived. July 4, 1852
Sunrise . . .There is something serenely glorious and memorable to me in the sight of the first cool sunlight now gilding the eastern extremity of the bushy island in Fair Haven, that wild lake . . . It is such an innocent pale yellow as the spring flowers. It is the pollen of the sun, fertilizing plants. The color of the earliest spring flowers is as cool and innocent as the first rays of the sun in the morning falling on woods and hills. July 4, 1852
To-day is warm again, but for nearly a week many people have sat by a fire. July 4, 1857
In that hollow in the woods south of Ledum Swamp, the sedge is fresh and yellowish-green, falling every way like cow-licks on an unkempt head, a soft, dry bed to recline on. When we enter it from the west, with the sun shining between thundery clouds, it is all lit with a blaze of yellow light. July 4, 1860
The large johnswort now begins to be noticed generally, -- a July yellow. July 4, 1860
The cotton-grass at Beck Stow's. Is it different from the early one? July 4, 1853
A sultry night the last; bear no covering; all windows open. July 4, 1854
Great orange-yellow lily, some days, wild yellow lily, drooping, well out. July 4, 1854
I am attracted by the peculiar glaucous leaves of the rhodora. July 4, 1853
The beauty of some butterflies, -- dark steel blue with a light-blue edge. July 4, 1853
The bass appears now — or a few trees — to have bloomed here and there prematurely. July 4, 1853
The white pine shoot which on the 19th of June had grown sixteen and a quarter inches and on the 27th twenty and three quarters is now twenty-three and an eighth inches long. July 4, 1860
We are wading and navigating at present in a sort of sea of grass, which yields and undulates under the wind like water; and so, perchance, the forest is seen to do from a favorable position. July 4, 1860
Rich and luxuriant uncut grass-lands , now waving under the easterly wind. It is a beautiful Camilla, sweeping like waves of light and shade over the whole breadth of his land, like a low steam curling over it, imparting wonderful life to the landscape, like the light and shade of a changeable garment, waves of light and shade pursuing each other over the whole breadth of the landscape like waves hastening to break on a shore. July 4, 1860
Asclepias obtusifolia, also day or two . . . Asclepias purpurascens (??) over the walls. July 4, 1854
Walking beside a ditch or brook, you see alarmed frogs launching themselves a considerable distance into the brook. They spring upward to clear all intervening obstacles, and seem to know pretty well where the brook is. A frog reckons that he knows where the brook is. July 4, 1859
A very hot day. July 4, 1854
July 4, 2017
*****
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau:
*****
For nearly a week many people have sat by a fire. See July 8, 1860 “This morning there is a cold mist. . . The thermometer is at 66°, and some sit by fires.”)
The beauty of some butterflies, - dark steel blue with a light - blue edge.See July 16, 1853 ("I see the yellow butterflies now gathered in fleets in the road, and on the flowers of the milkweed (Asclepias pulchra) by the roadside, a really handsome flower; also the smaller butterfly, with reddish wings, and a larger, black or steel-blue, with wings spotted red on edge, and one of equal size, reddish copper-colored")
The bass appears now — or a few trees — to have bloomed here and there prematurely. See June 21, 1853 (" There are no flowers nor flower-buds on the bass this year, though it was so full last year."); July 3, 1853 ("There are no flowers on bass trees commonly this year."); July 9, 1857 ( See no flowers on the bass trees by this river this year, nor at Conantum.")
The large johnswort now begins to be noticed generally, -- a July yellow. See July 5, 1852 ("Some fields are quite yellow with johnswort now, — a pleasing motley hue, which looks autumnal.")
Navigating a sea of grass... See July 6, 1859 ("Grass now for a week or more has been seriously in the way of the walker,... It requires skillful tacking, a good deal of observation, and experience to get across the country now.”) See also July 2, 1851 ("Miles of waving grass adorning the surface of the earth, inconceivably fine and silvery far away, - light reflects from the grass blades.”)
July 4, 2022
If you make the least correctobservation of nature this year,you will have occasion to repeat itwith illustrations the next,and the season and life itself is prolonged.
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, July 4A 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
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