March 7. The first pleasant days of spring come out like a squirrel and go in again.

The year is but a succession of days,

and I see that I could assign some office to each day

which, summed up, would be the history of the year.

Henry Thoreau, August 24, 1852

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, March 7, 1852:

The stillness is more impressive than any sound, - the moon, the stars, the trees, the snow. See January 7, 1857 ("The stillness and solitude of nature, with rocks, trees, weeds, snow about me. ")

I look to see if these white tracts in the distant fields correspond to openings in the woods, and find that they are places where the crystal mirrors are so disposed as to reflect the moon's light to me. See February 3, 1852 (I can tell where there is wood and where open land for many miles in the horizon by the darkness of the former and whiteness of the latter.")


H. D. Thoreau, Journal, March 7, 1853:

What is the earliest sign of spring? See February 23, 1857("I have seen signs of the spring. I have seen a frog swiftly sinking in a pool, or where he dimpled the surface as he leapt in. I have seen the brilliant spotted tortoises stirring at the bottom of ditches. I have seen the clear sap trickling from the red maple.”


H. D. Thoreau, Journal, March 7, 1854:

The fringed gentian. See October 19, 1852 ("It is a very singular and agreeable surprise to come upon this conspicuous and handsome and withal blue flower at this season, when flowers have passed out of our minds and memories; the latest of all to begin to bloom.")

Ventriloquist blue bird. See February 27, 1861 ("It occurs to me that I have just heard a bluebird. I stop and listen to hear it again, but cannot tell whither it comes.")


H. D. Thoreau, Journal, March 7, 1855:

Did I not see crows flying northeasterly yesterday toward night? See March 5, 1854 (“See crows, as I think, migrating northeasterly. They come in loose, straggling flocks . . .”) See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the American Crow

The first pleasant days of spring come out like a squirrel and go in again. See March 4, 1855 ("May not this season of springlike weather between the first decidedly springlike day and the first blue bird...be called the striped squirrel spring -- In which we go listening for the blue bird, but hear him not.")

The striped squirrel spring:

We listen for the bluebird

but we hear him not.

March 4, 1855

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, March 7, 1856:

There has not been less than sixteen inches of snow on a level in open land since January 13th. See March 9, 1856 ("sixteen inches of snow on a level in open fields, hard and dry, ice in Flint’s Pond two feet thick, and the aspect of the earth is that of the middle of January in a severe winter."); March 19, 1856 ("This depth it must have preserved, owing to the remarkably cold weather . . . So it chances that the snow was constantly sixteen inches deep, at least, on a level in open land, from January 13th to March 13th")


H. D. Thoreau, Journal, March 7, 1858:

Walking by the river this afternoon, it being half open. See March 4, 1854 ("I can no longer get on to the river ice."); March 4, 1855 (''River channel fairly open."). Compare March 6, 1858 ("Up river on ice to Fair Haven Pond"); March 7, 1852 ("I walk up the river on the ice to Fair Haven Pond.").

Black waves running pretty high. See May 8, 1854 (" I feel exhilaration, mingled with a slight awe, as I drive before this strong wind over the great black-backed waves, cutting through them, and hear their surging and feel them toss me.")

I inhale a fresh, meadowy, spring odor exciting like the fragrance of tea to an old tea-drinker. See February 18, 1857("I was surprised to find how sweet the whole ground smelled when I lay flat and applied my nose to it; more so than any cow; as it were the promise of the perfect man and new springs to eternity."); March 4, 1854 ("I begin to sniff the air and smell the ground”); March 18,1853 ("To-day first I smelled the earth.”); April 2, 1856 ("I am tempted to stretch myself on the bare ground above the Cliff, to feel its warmth in my back, and smell the earth and the dry leaves"); May 4, 1859 ("I draw near to the land; I begin to lie down and stretch myself on it. After my winter voyage I begin to smell the land.”);May 16, 1852 ("The whole earth is fragrant as a bouquet held to your nose.")


H. D. Thoreau, Journal, March 7, 1859:

The first note which I heard from the robins, far under the hill, was sveet sveet, suggesting a certain haste and alarm . . When you first see them alighted, they have a haggard, an anxious and hurried, look. See March 8, 1855 (" I hear the hasty, shuffling, as if frightened, note of a robin from a dense birch wood, "); March 18, 1858 ("The robin does not come singing, but utters a somewhat anxious or inquisitive peep at first."); March 24, 1858 ("The robin's peep, which sounds like a note of distress")  See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Robins in Spring

The mystery of the life of plants is kindred with that of our own lives.See November 30, 1858 (“ But in my account of this bream I cannot go a hair’s breadth beyond the mere statement that it exists, — the miracle of its existence, my contemporary and neighbor, yet so different from me! I can only poise my thought there by its side and try to think like a bream for a moment. I can only think of precious jewels, of music, poetry, beauty, and the mystery of life. I only see the bream in its orbit, as I see a star, but I care not to measure its distance or weight. The bream, appreciated, floats in the pond as the centre of the system, another image of God. Its life no man can explain more than he can his own. I want you to perceive the mystery of the bream.”)


H. D. Thoreau, Journal, March 7, 1860:

Song sparrow heard. See January 28, 1857 ("See a song sparrow sitting for hours on our wood-pile in the yard, in the midst of snow in the yard."); also note to March 5, 1860 ("the song sparrows begin to sing hereabouts") See also A Book of Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Song Sparrow (Fringilla melodia)

White maple buds partly opened. See March 14, 1857 ("White maple buds . . .have now a minute orifice at the apex, through which you can even see the anthers.”); March 17, 1855 ("White maple blossom-buds look as if bursting; show a rusty, fusty space.") March 23, 1853 (“The white maple . . . has opened unexpectedly, and a rich sight it is, looking up through the expanded buds to the sky.”); March 25, 1854 ("White maple buds bursting, making trees look like some fruit trees with blossom-buds.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, White Maple Buds and Flowers

A swarm of very small gnats in the air. See March 20, 1858 (" It cheers me more to behold the swarms of gnats which have revived in the spring sun.") See also A Book of the Seasons: Fuzzy Gnats

March 7.

The first pleasant days

of spring come out like a squirrel

and go in again.

March 7, 1855

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