Sterile buttonwood, not yet generally, but some apparently several days at least.
It was a portion of the natural surface of the earth itself which jutted out and became my roof the other day. How fit that Nature should thus shelter her own children! The first drops were dimpling the pond even as the fishes had done.
The grass is flaming up through the shallow water on the meadows.
It is very warm till 3 p. m., and then a washing breeze arises, and before night probably distant thunder-showers have cooled the air, for after dark we see the flashes called heat lightning in the north, and hear the distant thunder.
Geraniums bring thunder.
That bobolink's song affected me as if one were endeavoring to keep down globes of melody within a vase full of liquid, but some bubbled up irrepressible, — kept thrusting them down with a stick, but they slipped and came up one side.
A young sparrow already flies.
Drove this afternoon to Painted-Cup Meadow.
A tanager yesterday.
H. D. Thoreau, Journal , June 2, 1857
It was a portion of the natural surface of the earth itself which jutted out and became my roof the other day. See May 29, 1857 (“The drops fall thicker, and I seek a shelter under the Cliffs. ”); May 30, 1857 (“When first I had sheltered myself under the rock, I began at once to look out on the pond with new eyes,”)
Heat lightning in the north, and hear the distant thunder. See June 16, 1852 (“Heat lightning in the horizon. A sultry night. A flute from some villager.”)
That bobolink's song affected me. See June 1, 1857 (“I hear the note of a bobolink concealed in the top of an apple tree behind me. . . . Methinks they are the most liquidly sweet and melodious sounds I ever heard.”); May 16, 1854 ("The earth is all fragrant as one flower. And bobolinks tinkle in the air. Nature now is perfectly genial to man.”) and note to May 12, 1856 (“We hear the first bobolink. . . How much life the note of the bobolink imparts to the meadow! ”)
It is very warm till 3 p. m., and then a washing breeze arises, and before night probably distant thunder-showers have cooled the air, for after dark we see the flashes called heat lightning in the north, and hear the distant thunder.
Geraniums bring thunder.
That bobolink's song affected me as if one were endeavoring to keep down globes of melody within a vase full of liquid, but some bubbled up irrepressible, — kept thrusting them down with a stick, but they slipped and came up one side.
A young sparrow already flies.
Drove this afternoon to Painted-Cup Meadow.
A tanager yesterday.
H. D. Thoreau, Journal , June 2, 1857
It was a portion of the natural surface of the earth itself which jutted out and became my roof the other day. See May 29, 1857 (“The drops fall thicker, and I seek a shelter under the Cliffs. ”); May 30, 1857 (“When first I had sheltered myself under the rock, I began at once to look out on the pond with new eyes,”)
Heat lightning in the north, and hear the distant thunder. See June 16, 1852 (“Heat lightning in the horizon. A sultry night. A flute from some villager.”)
That bobolink's song affected me. See June 1, 1857 (“I hear the note of a bobolink concealed in the top of an apple tree behind me. . . . Methinks they are the most liquidly sweet and melodious sounds I ever heard.”); May 16, 1854 ("The earth is all fragrant as one flower. And bobolinks tinkle in the air. Nature now is perfectly genial to man.”) and note to May 12, 1856 (“We hear the first bobolink. . . How much life the note of the bobolink imparts to the meadow! ”)
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 © 2009-2021
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