Thunder-showers in the night, and it still storms,
with holdings-up. A May storm, gentle and rather warm.
The days of the golden
willow are over for this season; their withered catkins strew the causeways
and cover the water and also my boat, which is moored beneath them.
The locust
has grown three inches and is blossom-budded. It may come just after the white
ash at least, and before the celtis.
The weather toward evening still cloudy
and some what mizzling.
The foliage of the young maples, elms, etc., in the
street has become, since the rain commenced, several shades darker, changing
from its tender and lighter green, as if the electricity of the thunder-storm
may have had some effect on it.
It is best observed while it is still cloudy;
almost a bluish, no longer yellowish green, it is peculiarly rich.
The very
grass appears to have undergone a similar change.
H. D. Thoreau, Journal,
May 19, 1853
The days of the golden willow are over for this season. Compare May 14, 1852 ("Going over the Corner causeway, the willow blossoms fill the air with a sweet fragrance, and I am ready to sing, Ah! willow, willow! These willows have yellow bark, bear yellow flowers and yellowish-green leaves, and are now haunted by the summer yellowbird and Maryland yellow-throat") See also A Book of Seasons, by Henry Thoreau. Willows on the Causeway.
The locust has grown three inches and is blossom-budded. See June 10, 1853 ("The locust bloom is now perfect, filling the street with its sweetness."); June 7, 1854 ("The locusts so full of pendulous white racemes five inches long, filling the air with their sweetness and resounding with the hum of humble and honey bees"); June 9, 1852 ("The locust in bloom"); June 11, 1856 ("The locust in graveyard shows but few blossoms yet.")
The days of the golden willow are over for this season. Compare May 14, 1852 ("Going over the Corner causeway, the willow blossoms fill the air with a sweet fragrance, and I am ready to sing, Ah! willow, willow! These willows have yellow bark, bear yellow flowers and yellowish-green leaves, and are now haunted by the summer yellowbird and Maryland yellow-throat") See also A Book of Seasons, by Henry Thoreau. Willows on the Causeway.
The locust has grown three inches and is blossom-budded. See June 10, 1853 ("The locust bloom is now perfect, filling the street with its sweetness."); June 7, 1854 ("The locusts so full of pendulous white racemes five inches long, filling the air with their sweetness and resounding with the hum of humble and honey bees"); June 9, 1852 ("The locust in bloom"); June 11, 1856 ("The locust in graveyard shows but few blossoms yet.")
A May storm, gentle and rather warm.See May 17, 1853 ("Does not summer begin after the May storm?”); note to May 18, 1853 ("Perchance a May storm is brewing. This day it has mizzled . . . Methinks this is common at this season of the tender foliage.")
The very grass appears to have undergone a similar change. Compare May 19, 1860 ("The grass and the tender leaves, refreshed and expanded by the rain, are peculiarly bright and yellowish-green when seen in a favorable light.").
May 19. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, May 19
Foliage changes
several shades darker in the rain
seen while still cloudy.
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
No comments:
Post a Comment