Refuge from a shower.

July 22. 

July 22, 2018

The nest of the marsh hawk is empty. It has probably flown. 

C. and I took refuge from a shower under our boat at Clamshell; staid an hour at least. A thunderbolt fell close by. A mole ran under the boat. The wind canted round as usual (is not this owing to the circular manner of storms?) more easterly, and compelled us to turn the boat over. 

Left a little too soon, but enjoyed a splendid rainbow for half an hour.

July 22, 2018

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 22, 1858

C. and I took refuge from a shower under our boat at Clamshell; staid an hour at least. See June 14, 1855 (“It suddenly begins to rain with great violence, and we in haste draw up our boat on the Clamshell shore, upset it, and get under, sitting on the paddles, and so are quite dry while our friends thought we were being wet to our skins. But we have as good a roof as they. It is very pleasant to lie there half an hour close to the edge of the water and see and hear the great drops patter on the river, each making a great bubble”)

A splendid rainbow for half an hour. See April 18, 1855 ("Am overtaken by a sudden sun-shower, after which a rainbow.”); August 17, 1858 (“Being overtaken by a shower, we took refuge in the basement of Sam Barrett’s sawmill, where we spent an hour, and at length came home with a rainbow over arching the road before us.”)

July 22. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, July 22

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 © 2009-2024