The river is at summer level

April 1. 

April 1, 2018

White-bellied swallows. 

P. M. — Paddle up Assabet. 

The river is at summer level; has not been up this spring, and has fallen to this. The lowermost willow at my boat is bare. 

The white maples are abundantly out to-day. Probably the very first bloomed on the 29th. We hold the boat beneath one, surprised to hear the resounding hum of honey-bees, which are busy about them. It reminds me of the bass and its bees. The trees are conspicuous with dense clusters of light colored stamens. 

The alders above the Hemlocks do not yet shed pollen. 

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.

I observed night before last, as often before, when geese were passing over in the twilight quite near, though the whole heavens were still light and I knew which way to look by the honking, I could not distinguish them. It takes but a little obscurity to hide a. bird in the air. How difficult, even in broadest daylight, to discover again a hawk at a distance in the sky when you have once turned your eyes away! 

Pleasant it is to see again the red bark of the Cornus sericea shining in the warm sun at the hill swamp, above the spring. 

Walking through the maple there, I see a squirrel's nest twenty-three or twenty-four feet high in a large maple, and, climbing to it, —for it was so peculiar, having a basketwork of twigs about it, that I did not know but it was a hawk's nest, — I found that it was a very perfect (probably) red squirrel's nest, made entirely of the now very dark or blackish green moss such as grows on the button-bush and on the swampy ground, – a dense mass of it about one foot through, matted together, — with an inobvious hole on the east side and a tuft of loose moss blowing up above it, which seemed to answer for a door or porch covering. The cavity within was quite small, but very snug and warm, where one or two squirrels might lie warmly in the severest storm, the dense moss walls being about three inches thick or more. But what was most peculiar was that this nest, though placed over the centre of the tree, where it divided into four or five branches, was regularly and elaborately hedged about and supported by a basketwork of strong twigs stretched across from bough to bough, which twigs I perceived had been gnawed green from the maple itself, the stub ends remaining visible all around. Near by I saw another much smaller and less per fect nest of the same kind, which had fallen to the ground. This had been made in a birch, and the birch twigs had been gnawed off, but in this case I noticed a little fine broken grass within it, mixed with the moss. 

I notice large water-bugs. 

It is remarkable that the river seems rarely to rise or fall gradually, but rather by fits and starts, and hence the water-lines, as indicated now by the sawdust, are very distinct parallel lines four or five or more inches apart. It is true the wind has something to do with it, and might waft to a certain place much more dust than was left on another where the water stood much longer at the same level. 

Surely the saw-miller’s is a trade which cannot be carried on in secret. Not only this sawdust betrays him, but at night, especially, when the water is high, I hear the tearing sound of his saw a mile or more off, borne down the stream. 

I see six Sternothaerus odoratus in the river thus early. Two are fairly out sunning. One has crawled up a willow. It is evident, then, that they may be earlier in other places or towns than I had supposed, where they are not concealed by such freshets as we have. I took up and smelt of five of these, and they emitted none of their peculiar scent! It would seem, then, that this may be connected with their breeding, or at least with their period of greatest activity. They are quite sluggish now. 

At Hemlock Brook, a dozen or more rods from the river, I see on the wet mud a little snapping turtle evidently hatched last year. It does not open its eyes nor mouth while I hold it. Its eyes appear as if sealed up by its long sleep. In our ability to contend with the elements what feeble infants we are to this one. Talk of great heads, look at this one! Talk of Hercules’ feats in the cradle, what sort of cradle and nursing has this infant had? It totters forth confident and victorious when it can hardly carry its shield. It looked a wonder I saw it. 

I start, under the hemlocks there, a butterfly (call it the tawny-orange single-white-spotted) about the size of Vanessa Antiopa, tawny-orange, with black spots or eyes, and pale-brown about them, a white spot near the corner of each front wing, a dark line near the edge behind, a small sharp projecting angle to the hind wings, a green-yellow back to body.

See wood turtles coupled on their edges at the bottom, where the stream has turned them up. 

Far up in still shallows, disturb pickerel and perch, etc. They apparently touch the muddy bottom as they dart out, muddying the water here and there. 

A Rana halecina on the bank. 

When I started to walk that suddenly pleasant after noon, the 28th of March, I crossed the path of the two brothers R., who were walking direct to the depot as if they had special business there that Sunday, the queer short-legged dog running ahead. I talked with them an hour there in the hope that the one who is not a stranger to me would let something escape from his wise head. But he was very moderate; all I got out of him to be remembered was that in some town up-country where he lived when young, they called the woodchuck -“squash-belly,”—with reference to his form I suggested, but so far he had not advanced. This he communicated very seriously, as an important piece of information with which he labored. The other told me how to raise a dog's dander, — any the gentlest dog's, — by looking sternly in his face and making a peculiar sound with your mouth. I then broke short the conference, continued my walk, while these gentlemen wheeled directly about and walked straight back again. 

It is evident that the date of the first general revival of the turtles, excepting such as are generally seen in ditches, i. e. the yellow-spotted, depends on the state of the river, whether it is high or low in the spring.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, April 1, 1858

The white maples are abundantly out to-day. Probably the very first bloomed on the 29th. See A Book of the Seasons by Henry Thoreau, White Maple Buds and Flowers
Yellow wasps, which built over my window last year. See June 28, 1857 ("under the peak of our roof, just over my chamber windows.”)

I knew which way to look by the honking but could not distinguish them.See April 8, 1855 (This evening, about 9 P.M., I hear geese go over, now there in the south, now southeast, now east, now northeast, low over the village, but not seen. The first I have heard. )

Pleasant it is to see again the red bark of the Cornus sericea shining in the warm sun at the hill swamp, above the spring. See January 4, 1858 (“The Cornus sericea and some quite young willow shoots are the red-barked twigs so conspicuous now along the riversides”)

I see six Sternothaerus odoratus in the river thus early. Two are fairly out sunning. One has crawled up a willow. . . . They are quite sluggish now. See July 3, 1856 ("They appear much more sluggish than the other kinds now, though they were active enough in the spring.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Musk Turtle (Sternothaerus odoratus )

I see on the wet mud a little snapping turtle evidently hatched last year. See August 26, 1854 (“Open one of my snapping turtle's eggs. Its eyes are open. It puts out its head, stretches forth its claws, and liberates its tail. With its great head it has already the ugliness of the full-grown, and is already a hieroglyphic of snappishness.”)

We are heading to the view  with empty backpacks to collect stuff that is accumulated over the years. Stepping out of the gate she spots a phoebe on the top of our roof. It flys away and does not sing. First phoebe April . Most of the snow is off the trails especially those that are now running like brooks. But also the new trail straight up to the view. Running water everywhere sparkling in the sun. Noisy too. A raven croaks and flies across the clearing. Yesterday it was a couple of dozen turkeys.  The day is blustery strong winds at the view so that we try to find a warmer spot. The sun is in and out of clouds and we see probable snow clouds dipping over the lake with blue sky above. In fact that is how the day starts with a brief pellet snow flurry and sun in the a yard with the first phoebe on the roof.

A brief pellet snow 

with sun in the yard and a 

phoebe on the roof.

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