The tephrosia grows by Peter's road in the woods.

July 10. 

July 10, 2017

Put some more black willow seed in a tumbler of water at 9.30 a. m. 

P. M. — To Pratt's and Peter's. 

One flower on the Solanum nigrum at Pratt's, which he says opened the 7th. 

He found, about a week ago, the Botrychium Virginianum in bloom, about the bass in Fever-bush Swamp. 

I see some lupine still in bloom, though many pods have been ripe some time. 

The tephrosia, which grows by Peter's road in the woods, is a very striking and interesting, if I may not say beautiful, flower, especially when, as here, it is seen in a cool and shady place, its clear rose purple contrasting very agreeably with yellowish white, rising from amidst a bed of finely pinnate leaves. Bigelow calls the flowers "very beautiful." 

At evening I watch to see when my yellow wasps cease working. For some time before sunset there are but few seen going and coming, but for some time after, or as long as I could easily see them ten feet off, I saw one go forth or return from time to time.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 10, 1857

One flower on the Solanum nigrum at Pratt's . . .See September 21, 1856 ("Find, for first time in Concord, Solanum nigrum, berries apparently just ripe,”)

The tephrosia is a very striking and interesting, if I may not say beautiful, flower.  See June 21, 1852 ("I see the tephrosia out through the dusk; a handsome flower. ");  June 26, 1853 ("The tephrosia is an agreeable mixture of white, straw color, and rose pink; unpretending."); July 15, 1857  ("Tephrosia is generally considerably past its prime.”)

At evening I watch to see when my yellow wasps cease working See June 28, 1857 ("the same kind of nest that I observed first a few days since, of the same size, under the peak of our roof, just over my chamber windows. (July 7th, . . .  Watching the nest over my window, I see that the wasps are longer than honey-bees and have a white place between the abdomen and breast. . . . They are continually arriving and departing,)"); April 1, 1858 ("What I called yellow wasps, which built over my window last year, have come, and are about the old nest; numbers have settled on it.")

July 10. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, July 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 © 2009-2021