March 12.
P. M. — To Hill.
Observe the waxwork twining about the smooth sumach. It winds against the sun. It is at first loose about the stem, but this ere long expands to and overgrows it.
Observed the track of a squirrel in the snow under one of the apple trees on the southeast side of the Hill, and, looking up, saw a red squirrel with a nut or piece of frozen apple in his mouth, within six feet, sitting in a constrained position partly crosswise on a limb over my head, perfectly still, and looking not at me, but off into the air, evidently expecting to escape my attention by this trick.
I stood and watched and chirruped to him about five minutes so near, and yet he did not at once turn his head to look at me or move a foot or wink. The only motion was that of his tail curled over his back in the wind. At length he did change his attitude a little and look at me a moment. Evidently this is a trick they often practice.
If I had been farther off he might have scolded at me.
Snowed again last night, as it has done once or twice before within ten days without my recording it, — robin snows, which last but a day or two.
H. D. Thoreau, Journal, March 12, 1857
A red squirrel with a nut or piece of frozen apple in his mouth. See March 18, 1857 ("A red squirrel runs nimbly before me along the wall, his tail in the air at a right angle with his body"); December 16, 1855 ("One sits twirling apparently a dried apple in his paws, with his tail curled close over his back") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Red Squirrel
New and collected mind-prints. by Zphx. Following H.D.Thoreau 170 years ago today. Seasons are in me. My moods periodical -- no two days alike.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Popular Posts Last 30 Days.
-
April 24 There is a season for everything, and we do not notice a given phenomenon except at that season, if, indeed, it can be called the ...
-
December 14 I see at Derby’s shop a barred owl ( Strix nebulosa ), taken in the woods west of the factory on the 11th, found (with its w...
-
June 2. 3.30 A.M.- When I awake I hear the low universal chirping or twittering of the chip-birds, like the bursting bead on the surface o...
-
June 11 P. M. —To Flint’s Pond. The locust in graveyard shows but few blossoms yet. It is very hot this afternoon, and that peculiar ...
"A stone fruit. Each one yields me a thought." ~ H. D. Thoreau, March 28, 1859
No comments:
Post a Comment