July 13, 2019
A journal, a book that shall contain a record of all your joy, your ecstasy.
The pool by Walden is now quite yellow with the common utricularia (vulgaris).
The northern wild red cherry of the woods is ripe, handsome, bright red, but scarcely edible; also, sooner than I expected, huckleberries, both blue and black; the former, not described by Gray or Bigelow, in the greater abundance, and must have been ripe several days. They are thick enough to pick. The black only here and there. The former is apparently a variety of the latter, blue with bloom and a tough or thick skin.
There are evidently several kinds of huckleberries and blueberries not described by botanists: of the very early blueberries at least two varieties, one glossy black with dark-green leaves, the other a rich light blue with bloom and yellowish-green leaves; and more kinds I remember.
I found the Vaccinium corymbosum well ripe on an exposed hillside.
Each day now I scare up woodcocks by shady springs and swamps.
The dark-purple amelanchier are the sweetest berries I have tasted yet.
One who walks the woods and hills daily, expecting to see the first berry that turns, will be surprised at last to find them ripe and thick before he is aware of it, ripened, he cannot tell how long before, in some more favorable situation. It is impossible to say what day — almost what week — the huckleberries begin to be ripe, unless you are acquainted with, and daily visit, every huckleberry bush in the town, at least every place where they grow.
The Polygala sanguinea and P. cruciata in Blister's meadow, both numerous and well out. The last has a fugacious (?) spicy scent, in which, methinks, I detect the scent of nutmegs. Afterward I find that it is the lower part of the stem and root which is most highly scented, like checkerberry, and not fugacious.
The weather has been remarkably warm for a week or ten days, the thermometer at ninety-five degrees, more or less; and we have had no rain. You have not thought of cold or of taking cold, night or day, but only how you should be cool enough.
Such weather as this the only use of clothing is to cover nakedness and to protect the body from the sun. It is remarkable that, though it would be a great luxury to throw aside all clothing now except one thin robe to keep off the sun, yet throughout the whole community not one is found to do it.
H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 13, 1852
A journal, a book that shall contain a record of all your joy, your ecstasy. See September 2, 1851 ("We cannot write well or truly but what we write with gusto. . . . Expression is the act of the whole man. . .. It is always essential that we love to do what we are doing, do it with a heart.”); January 22, 1852 ("Perhaps this is the main value of a habit of writing, of keeping a journal, - that so we remember our best hours and stimulate ourselves."); May 6, 1854 ("Every important worker will report what life there is in him. All that a man has to say or do that can possibly concern mankind, is in some shape or other to tell the story of his love, — to sing; and, if he is fortunate and keeps alive, he will be forever in love.”).
Huckleberries, both blue and black,must have been ripe several days. See July 13, 1854 ("Many of the huckleberries here on the hilltop have dried black and shrivelled before ripening."); July 18, 1854("every bush and bramble bears its fruit; the sides of the road are a fruit garden; blackberries, huckleberries, thimble-berries, fresh and abundant, no signs of drought; all fruits in abundance; the earth teems.") July 21, 1853 ("to Fair Haven. Plenty of berries there now, — large huckleberries, blueberries, and blackberries."); July 21, 1856 ("Plucked a handful of huckleberries from one bush!"); July 26, 1854 ("Almost every bush now offers a wholesome and palatable diet to the wayfarer, — large and dense clusters of Vaccinium vacillans, largest in most moist ground, sprinkled with the red ones not ripe; great high blueberries, some nearly as big as cranberries, of an agreeable acid; huckleberries of various kinds, some shining black, some dull-black, some blue; and low blackberries of two or more varieties."); July 29,, 1859 (“Vaccinium vacillans begin to be pretty thick and some huckleberries.”); July 18, 1854 ("As I go along the Joe Smith road, every bush and bramble bears its fruit; the sides of the road are a fruit garden; blackberries, huckleberries, thimble-berries, fresh and abundant, no signs of drought; all fruits in abundance; the earth teems. "); July 31, 1856 (“How thick the berries — low blackberries, Vaccinium vacillans, and huckleberries — on the side of Fair Haven Hill! ”) August 4, 1852 (“Most huckleberries and blueberries and low blackberries are in their prime now.”); August 4, 1854 ("On this hill (Smith's) the bushes are black with huckleberries. ...Now in their prime. Some glossy black, some dull black, some blue; and patches of Vaccinium vacillans ntermixed.")
It is impossible to say what day — almost what week — the huckleberries begin to be ripe, unless you are acquainted with, and daily visit, every huckleberry bush in the town. See June 22, 1859 ("One who is not almost daily on the river will not perceive the revolution constantly going on.”); November 18 1851 ("The chopper who works in the woods all day is more open in some respects to the impressions they are fitted to make than the naturalist who goes to see them"); April 16, 1852("Many a foreigner who has come to this town has worked for years on its banks without discovering which way the river runs. ")
Ninety-five degrees, more or less; and we have had no rain. See July 13, 1854 ("In the midst of July heat and drought."); July 13, 1857 ("Very hot weather. . . .I make haste home, expecting a thunder-shower, which we need, but it goes by.") See also July 10, 1852 ("Every hour we expect a thundershower to cool the air, but none comes."); and note to July 12, 1859 ("Another hot day. 96° at mid-afternoon.")
Each day now I scare up woodcocks by shady springs and swamps. See July 3, 1856 ("I scare up one or two woodcocks in different places by the shore, where they are feeding, and in a meadow. They go off with a whistling flight. Can see where their bills have probed the mud. "); July 7, 1854 ("Woodcock at the spring under Clamshell"); July 15, 1857 ("Scare up . . . two woodcocks in the shady alder marsh at Well Meadow, which go off with a whistling flight."); July 18, 1856 ("Again scare up a woodcock, apparently seated or sheltered in shadow of ferns in the meadow on the cool mud in the hot afternoon.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The American Woodcock
It would be a great luxury to throw aside all clothing now. See July 10, 1852 ("Walking up and down a river in torrid weather with only a hat to shade the head."); July 12, 1852 ("Divesting yourself of all clothing but your shirt and hat, which are to protect your exposed parts from the sun, you are prepared for the fluvial excursion.")
July 13. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, July 13.
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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