April 8, 2017
I discovered one convenient use the bayberries served, — that if you got your hands pitched in pine woods, you had only to rub a parcel of these berries between your hands to start the pitch off. Arthur said the shoemakers at the Head of the River used the tallow to rub the soles of their shoes with to make them shine.
I gathered a quart in about twenty minutes with my hands. You might gather them much faster with a suitable rake and a large shallow basket, or if one were clearing a field he could cut the bushes and thresh them in a heap.
H. D. Thoreau, Journal, April 8, 1857
If you got your hands pitched in pine woods, you had only to rub a parcel of these berries between your hands to start the pitch off. See September 9, 1857 ( [Squirrels] must know of, or possess, some remedy for pitch that we know nothing of.")
I gathered a quart in about twenty minutes with my hands. See April 7, 1857 (“Holding a basket beneath, I rubbed them off into it between my hands, and so got about a quart.”); see also December 14, 1850 ("I find a low, branching shrub frozen into the edge of the ice, with a fine spicy scent . . .. When I rub the dry-looking fruit in my hands, it feels greasy and stains them a permanent yellow, which I cannot wash out. It lasts several days, and my fingers smell medicinal. I conclude that it is sweetgale, and we name the island Myrica Island.")
I gathered a quart in about twenty minutes with my hands. See April 7, 1857 (“Holding a basket beneath, I rubbed them off into it between my hands, and so got about a quart.”); see also December 14, 1850 ("I find a low, branching shrub frozen into the edge of the ice, with a fine spicy scent . . .. When I rub the dry-looking fruit in my hands, it feels greasy and stains them a permanent yellow, which I cannot wash out. It lasts several days, and my fingers smell medicinal. I conclude that it is sweetgale, and we name the island Myrica Island.")
Surprised to see snow flakes flying under the spotlight. When dawn comes the first phoebe sings.
And now the branches outside my window are all lacy white with snow – and the phoebe sings persistently. Zphx20170408
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