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
August 28, 2014
Thick fogs these mornings. We have had little or no dog-days this year, it has been so dry. August 28, 1859
Soaking rain last night, straight down. August 28, 1858
A cool day; wind northwest. August 28, 1859
You feel the less inclined to bathing this weather, and bathe from principle, when boys, who bathe for fun, omit it. August 28, 1859
It is a clear, flashing air, and the shorn fields now look bright and yellowish and cool, tinkled and twittered over by bobolinks, goldfinches, sparrows, etc. August 28, 1859
A goldfinch twitters away from every thistle now, and soon returns to it when I am past. I see the ground strewn with the thistle-down they have scattered on every side. August 28, 1856
See many sparrows in flocks with a white feather in tail! August 28, 1853
The sharp whistling note of a downy woodpecker, which sounds rare; perhaps not heard since spring. August 28, 1858
When, as I go to the post-office this morning, I see these bright leaves strewing the moist ground on one side of the tree and blown several rods from it into a neighboring yard, I am reminded that I have crossed the summit ridge of the year and have begun to descend the other slope. The prospect is now toward winter. August 28, 1858
First watermelon. August 28, 1856
Pumpkins begin to be yellow. August 28, 1859
The fruit of the sweet-gale is yellowing. August 28, 1859
The smooth sumach leaves are fast reddening. August 28, 1853
The berries of the dwarf sumach are not a brilliant crimson, but as yet, at least, a dull sort of dusty or mealy crimson. August 28, 1853
When the wind stirs after the rain, leaves that were prematurely ripe or withered begin to strew the ground on the leeward side. August 28, 1858
Especially the scarlet leaves of the cultivated cherry are seen to have fallen. August 28, 1858
These are among the first-fruits of the leafy harvest. August 28, 1858
The acorns show now on the shrub oaks. August 28, 1853
The bright china-colored blue berries of the Cornus sericea begin to show themselves along the river, amid their red-brown leaves, — the kinnikinnic of the Indians. August 28, 1856
White cornel berries mostly fallen. August 28, 1859
The panicled cornel berries are whitening, but already mostly fallen. August 28, 1856
The berries of the alternate leaved cornel have dropped off mostly.
August 28, 1852
Now the black cherries in sprout-lands are in their prime, and the black choke-berries just after huckleberries and blueberries. They are both very abundant this year. The branches droop with cherries. August 28, 1856
The bushes are weighed down with choke-berries, which no creature appears to gather. This crop is as abundant as the huckleberries have been. They have a sweet and pleasant taste enough, but leave a mass of dry pulp in the mouth. But it is worth the while to see their profusion, if only to know what nature can do. August 28, 1856
The white-berried and red osier are in their prime. August 28, 1852
Now the red osier berries are very handsome along the river, overhanging the water, for the most part pale blue mixed with whitish, -- part of the pendant jewelry of the season. August 28, 1852
Poke berries also begun. August 28, 1856
See the great oval masses of scarlet berries of the arum now in the meadows. August 28, 1856
Trillium fruit, long time. August 28, 1856
Huckleberries are about given up, low blueberries more or less shrivelled, low blackberries done, high blackberries still to be had. August 28, 1856
The viburnums, dentatum and nudum, are in their prime. The sweet viburnum not yet purple, and the maple-leaved still yellowish. August 28, 1852
Viburnum nudum berries are beginning; I already see a few shrivelled purple ones amid the light green. August 28, 1856
At Tarbell's andromeda swamp. A probable Bidens connata or small chrysanthemoides. August 28, 1856
Euphorbia hypericifolia, how long? It has pretty little white and also rose-colored petals. August 28, 1856
Potentilla Norvegica again. August 28, 1856
Polygonum Pennsylvanicum by bank, how long? August 28, 1857
The arrowhead is still a common flower and an important one. I see some very handsome ones in Cardinal Ditch, whose corollas are an inch and a half in diameter. The greater part, however, have gone to seed. August 28, 1859
Peppermint, how long? May be earlier than I have thought, for the mowers clip it. August 28, 1856
The Lycopodium inundatum common by Harrington's mud-hole, Ministerial Swamp. August 28, 1860
I am in the shade of the woods when, just before setting, the sun comes out into a clear space in the horizon and a sudden blaze of light falls on east end of the pond and the hillside . . . I never saw such a green glow before. August 28, 1860
The poet is a man who lives at last by watching his moods. August 28, 1851
June 10, 1856 ("A painted tortoise laying her eggs ten feet from the wheel-track on the Marlborough road.”).
July 15, 1854 ("We seem to be passing a dividing line between spring and autumn, and begin to descend the long slope toward winter");
July 28, 1854 (“ . . . having as it were attained the ridge of the summer, commenced to descend the long slope toward winter, the afternoon and down-hill of the year”)
August 1, 1856 (“They make a splendid show, these brilliant rose-colored patches, especially in the neighborhood of Copan. It is about the richest color to be seen now.”)
August 19, 1856 ("What countless varieties of low blackberries! Here, in this open pine grove, I pluck some large fresh and very sweet ones when they are mostly gone without. So they are continued a little longer to us")
August 20, 1851("The Rhexia Virginica is a showy flower at present.")
Pumpkins begin to be yellow. August 28, 1859
The fruit of the sweet-gale is yellowing. August 28, 1859
The smooth sumach leaves are fast reddening. August 28, 1853
The berries of the dwarf sumach are not a brilliant crimson, but as yet, at least, a dull sort of dusty or mealy crimson. August 28, 1853
When the wind stirs after the rain, leaves that were prematurely ripe or withered begin to strew the ground on the leeward side. August 28, 1858
Especially the scarlet leaves of the cultivated cherry are seen to have fallen. August 28, 1858
These are among the first-fruits of the leafy harvest. August 28, 1858
A portion of them ripens thus early, reminding us of October and November. August 28, 1858
The acorns show now on the shrub oaks. August 28, 1853
The bright china-colored blue berries of the Cornus sericea begin to show themselves along the river, amid their red-brown leaves, — the kinnikinnic of the Indians. August 28, 1856
White cornel berries mostly fallen. August 28, 1859
The panicled cornel berries are whitening, but already mostly fallen. August 28, 1856
The berries of the alternate leaved cornel have dropped off mostly.
August 28, 1852
Now the black cherries in sprout-lands are in their prime, and the black choke-berries just after huckleberries and blueberries. They are both very abundant this year. The branches droop with cherries. August 28, 1856
The bushes are weighed down with choke-berries, which no creature appears to gather. This crop is as abundant as the huckleberries have been. They have a sweet and pleasant taste enough, but leave a mass of dry pulp in the mouth. But it is worth the while to see their profusion, if only to know what nature can do. August 28, 1856
The white-berried and red osier are in their prime. August 28, 1852
Now the red osier berries are very handsome along the river, overhanging the water, for the most part pale blue mixed with whitish, -- part of the pendant jewelry of the season. August 28, 1852
Poke berries also begun. August 28, 1856
See the great oval masses of scarlet berries of the arum now in the meadows. August 28, 1856
Trillium fruit, long time. August 28, 1856
August 28, 2014
Huckleberries are about given up, low blueberries more or less shrivelled, low blackberries done, high blackberries still to be had. August 28, 1856
The viburnums, dentatum and nudum, are in their prime. The sweet viburnum not yet purple, and the maple-leaved still yellowish. August 28, 1852
Viburnum nudum berries are beginning; I already see a few shrivelled purple ones amid the light green. August 28, 1856
The flowers I see at present are autumn flowers, such as have risen above the stubble in shorn fields since it was cut, whose tops have commonly been clipped by the scythe or the cow; or the late flowers, as asters and goldenrods, which grow in neglected fields and along ditches and hedgerows. August 28, 1859
 |
| August 28, 2014 |
At Tarbell's andromeda swamp. A probable Bidens connata or small chrysanthemoides. August 28, 1856
Euphorbia hypericifolia, how long? It has pretty little white and also rose-colored petals. August 28, 1856
Potentilla Norvegica again. August 28, 1856
Polygonum Pennsylvanicum by bank, how long? August 28, 1857
The arrowhead is still a common flower and an important one. I see some very handsome ones in Cardinal Ditch, whose corollas are an inch and a half in diameter. The greater part, however, have gone to seed. August 28, 1859
Peppermint, how long? May be earlier than I have thought, for the mowers clip it. August 28, 1856
The Lycopodium inundatum common by Harrington's mud-hole, Ministerial Swamp. August 28, 1860
The rhexia in Ebby Hubbard's field is considerably past prime . . . Still it is handsome with its large yellow anthers against clear purple petals. It grows there in large patches with hardhack. August 28, 1859
Hemp still in blossom. August 28, 1852
I think that haze was not smoke. August 28, 1854
In the soft mud, the tracks of the great bittern and the blue heron. August 28, 1854
I think that haze was not smoke. August 28, 1854
In the soft mud, the tracks of the great bittern and the blue heron. August 28, 1854
I open the painted tortoise nest of June 10th, and find a young turtle partly out of his shell. August 28, 1856
June, July, and August, the tortoise eggs are hatching a few inches beneath the surface in sandy fields. August 28, 1856
In my experience, at least of late years, all that depresses a man's spirits is the sense of remissness, — duties neglected, unfaithfulness, — or shamming, impurity, falsehood, selfishness, inhumanity, and the like. August 28, 1854
Perchance you have worried yourself, despaired of the world, meditated the end of life, and all things seemed rushing to destruction; but nature has steadily and serenely advanced with a turtle's pace. August 28, 1856
June, July, and August, the tortoise eggs are hatching a few inches beneath the surface in sandy fields. August 28, 1856
In my experience, at least of late years, all that depresses a man's spirits is the sense of remissness, — duties neglected, unfaithfulness, — or shamming, impurity, falsehood, selfishness, inhumanity, and the like. August 28, 1854
Perchance you have worried yourself, despaired of the world, meditated the end of life, and all things seemed rushing to destruction; but nature has steadily and serenely advanced with a turtle's pace. August 28, 1856
A whole summer — June, July, and August — is not too good nor too much to hatch a turtle in. August 28, 1856
What's a summer? Time for a turtle's eggs to hatch. . . .They have seen no berries, had no cares, yet has not the great world existed for them as much as for you? August 28, 1856
A cool, white, autumnal evening. August 28, 1853
What's a summer? Time for a turtle's eggs to hatch. . . .They have seen no berries, had no cares, yet has not the great world existed for them as much as for you? August 28, 1856
A cool, white, autumnal evening. August 28, 1853
A great deal of light is reflected through the clearer air, which has also a vein of coolness in it. August 28, 1854
I am in the shade of the woods when, just before setting, the sun comes out into a clear space in the horizon and a sudden blaze of light falls on east end of the pond and the hillside . . . I never saw such a green glow before. August 28, 1860
The poet is a man who lives at last by watching his moods. August 28, 1851
 |
| August 28, 2017 |
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Luxury of Bathing
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Bobolink
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Goldfinch
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Downy Woodpecker
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Lycopodiums
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Viburnum lentago
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Alternate-leafed dogwood
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Painted Turtle (Emys picta)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The American Bittern (the Stake-Diver)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Blue Heron
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Reminiscence and Prompting
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, As the Seasons Revolve
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, August Moods
August 28, 2014
July 15, 1854 ("We seem to be passing a dividing line between spring and autumn, and begin to descend the long slope toward winter");
July 28, 1854 (“ . . . having as it were attained the ridge of the summer, commenced to descend the long slope toward winter, the afternoon and down-hill of the year”)
August 1, 1856 (“They make a splendid show, these brilliant rose-colored patches, especially in the neighborhood of Copan. It is about the richest color to be seen now.”)
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 inter mixed.")
August 4. 1856 ("This favorable moist weather has expanded some of the huckleberries to the size of bullets")
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 inter mixed.")
August 4. 1856 ("This favorable moist weather has expanded some of the huckleberries to the size of bullets")
August 5, 1858 ("I cannot sufficiently admire the rhexia, one of the highest-colored purple flowers, ")
August 5, 1854 ("It is one long acclivity from winter to midsummer and another long declivity from midsummer to winter.")
August 15, 1854 ("Panicled cornel berries on College Road“)
August 17, 1851 ("If I could so live that . . .I could match nature always with my moods!")
August 15, 1854 ("Panicled cornel berries on College Road“)
August 17, 1851 ("If I could so live that . . .I could match nature always with my moods!")
August 17, 1853 ("The high blackberries are now in their prime; the richest berry we have.”)
August 18, 1853 (" as if the rest of the year were down-hill ")
August 18, 1851 ("The poet must be continually watching the moods of his mind, as the astronomer watches the aspects of the heavens.")
August 18, 1853 (" as if the rest of the year were down-hill ")
August 18, 1851 ("The poet must be continually watching the moods of his mind, as the astronomer watches the aspects of the heavens.")
August 20, 1851("The Rhexia Virginica is a showy flower at present.")
August 22, 1852 ("The panicled cornel berries now white. “)
August 22, 1852 ("Is not the high blackberry our finest berry?")
August 22, 1852. ("I am struck by the handsome and abundant clusters of yet green shrub oak acorns. Some are whitish. How much food for some creatures!")
August 22, 1852 ("Is not the high blackberry our finest berry?")
August 22, 1852. ("I am struck by the handsome and abundant clusters of yet green shrub oak acorns. Some are whitish. How much food for some creatures!")
August 22, 1854 ("Arum berries ripe")
August 25, 1851 ("Rhus copallina, mountain or dwarf sumach")
August 25, 1851 ("Rhus copallina, mountain or dwarf sumach")
August 26, 1854 ("Open one of my snapping turtle's eggs.”)
August 26, 1859 ("A new plant, apparently Lycopodium inundatum, Hubbard's meadow-side.")
August 26, 1859 ("A new plant, apparently Lycopodium inundatum, Hubbard's meadow-side.")
August 27, 1856 (“The rhexia greets me in bright patches on meadow banks.”)
August 27, 1857 ("Detected a, to me, new kind of high blackberry on the edge of the cliff beyond Conant's wall on Lee's ground,")
August 27, 1852 ("Lower leaves of the smooth sumach are red.")
August 27, 1857 ("Detected a, to me, new kind of high blackberry on the edge of the cliff beyond Conant's wall on Lee's ground,")
August 27, 1852 ("Lower leaves of the smooth sumach are red.")
August 29, 1852 (The first leaves begin to fall; a few yellow ones lie in the road this morning, loosened by the rain and blown off by the wind.")
August 30, 1851 ("I perceive in the Norway cinquefoil (Potentilla Norvegica), now nearly out of blossom, that the alternate five leaves of the calyx are closing over the seeds to protect them. There is one door closed, of the closing year.")
August 30, 1856 ("A cold white horizon sky in the north, forerunner of the fall of the year.")
August 30, 1851 ("I perceive in the Norway cinquefoil (Potentilla Norvegica), now nearly out of blossom, that the alternate five leaves of the calyx are closing over the seeds to protect them. There is one door closed, of the closing year.")
August 30, 1856 ("A cold white horizon sky in the north, forerunner of the fall of the year.")
August 31, 1858 ("The smooth sumach’s lower leaves are bright-scarlet on dry hills.")
August 31, 1857 ("An abundance of fine high blackberries behind Britton's old camp on the Lincoln road, now in their prime there, which have been overlooked. Is it not our richest fruit?")
August 31, 1856 ("The Viburnum nudum berries are now in prime, a handsome rose-purple.")
September 1, 1854 ("The Cornus sericea berries are now in prime, of different shades of blue, lighter or darker, and bluish white. . . .a great ornament to our causeways and riverside.”)
August 31, 1857 ("An abundance of fine high blackberries behind Britton's old camp on the Lincoln road, now in their prime there, which have been overlooked. Is it not our richest fruit?")
August 31, 1856 ("The Viburnum nudum berries are now in prime, a handsome rose-purple.")
September 1, 1854 ("The Cornus sericea berries are now in prime, of different shades of blue, lighter or darker, and bluish white. . . .a great ornament to our causeways and riverside.”)
September 1, 1856 ("Cohush berries appear now to be in their prime, and arum berries, and red choke-berries.")
September 2, 1853 ("The dense oval bunches of arum berries now startle the walker in swamps")
September 3, 1856 (“The white berries of the panicled cornel, soon and apparently prematurely dropping from its pretty fingers, are very bitter. So also are those of the C. sericea. ”)
September 3, 1856 ("Gather four or five quarts of Viburnum nudum berries, now in their prime, attracted more by the beauty of the cymes than the flavor of the fruit. The berries, which are of various sizes and forms, — elliptical, oblong, or globular, — are in different stages of maturity on the same cyme, and so of different colors, — green or white, rose-colored, and dark purple or black, — i. e. three or four very distinct and marked colors, side by side. . . . Remarkable for passing through so many stages of color before they arrive at maturity.")
September 3, 1860 ("The dense fresh green grass which has sprung up since it was mowed reflects a blaze of light, as if it were morning all the day.”)
September 2, 1853 ("The dense oval bunches of arum berries now startle the walker in swamps")
September 3, 1856 (“The white berries of the panicled cornel, soon and apparently prematurely dropping from its pretty fingers, are very bitter. So also are those of the C. sericea. ”)
September 3, 1856 ("Gather four or five quarts of Viburnum nudum berries, now in their prime, attracted more by the beauty of the cymes than the flavor of the fruit. The berries, which are of various sizes and forms, — elliptical, oblong, or globular, — are in different stages of maturity on the same cyme, and so of different colors, — green or white, rose-colored, and dark purple or black, — i. e. three or four very distinct and marked colors, side by side. . . . Remarkable for passing through so many stages of color before they arrive at maturity.")
September 3, 1860 ("The dense fresh green grass which has sprung up since it was mowed reflects a blaze of light, as if it were morning all the day.”)
September 4, 1853 ("The crowded clusters of shrub oak acorns are very handsome now, the rich, wholesome brown of the cups contrasting with the now clear green acorns, sometimes twenty- four with a breadth of three inches.")
September 11, 1854 ("This is a cold evening with a white twilight, and threatens frost, the first - in these respects- decidedly autumnal evening. It makes us think of wood for the winter.")
September 11, 1854 ("This is a cold evening with a white twilight, and threatens frost, the first - in these respects- decidedly autumnal evening. It makes us think of wood for the winter.")
September 12, 1859 ("The four kinds of bidens (frondosa, connata, cernua, and chrysanthemoides) abound now, but much of the Beckii was drowned by the rise of the river. . . . the third and fourth are conspicuous and interesting, expressing by their brilliant yellow the ripeness of the low grounds.")
September 13, 1859 ("I see some shrub oak acorns turned dark on the bushes and showing their meridian lines, but generally acorns of all kinds are green yet")September 14, 1859 ("The mountain sumach . . . berries are a hoary crimson and not bright like those of the smooth.")
September 17, 1852 ("I hear the downy woodpecker whistle, and see him looking about the apple trees as if to bore him a hole.");
September 21, 1859 ("They [acorns] are as interesting now on the shrub oak (green) as ever.")
September 24, 1859 ("I would know when in the year to expect certain thoughts and moods")
September 17, 1852 ("I hear the downy woodpecker whistle, and see him looking about the apple trees as if to bore him a hole.");
September 21, 1859 ("They [acorns] are as interesting now on the shrub oak (green) as ever.")
September 24, 1859 ("I would know when in the year to expect certain thoughts and moods")
September 28, 1858 ("The small shrub oak . . . with its pretty acorns striped dark and light alternately.")
September 30, 1859 ("Most shrub oak acorns browned.")
October 1, 1859 ("The shrub oaks on this hill are now at their height, both with respect to their tints and their fruit. . . .Now is the time for shrub oak acorns if not for others.")
October 2, 1856 (“The scarlet leaves and stem of the rhexia, some time out of flower, makes almost as bright a patch in the meadow now as the flowers did,”)
September 30, 1859 ("Most shrub oak acorns browned.")
October 1, 1859 ("The shrub oaks on this hill are now at their height, both with respect to their tints and their fruit. . . .Now is the time for shrub oak acorns if not for others.")
October 2, 1856 (“The scarlet leaves and stem of the rhexia, some time out of flower, makes almost as bright a patch in the meadow now as the flowers did,”)
October 2, 1856 ("The mountain sumach now a dark scarlet quite generally.")
October 14, 1859 ("The shrub oak acorns are now all fallen, — only one or two left on,")
October 15, 1859 ("I see some black oak acorns on the trees still and in some places at least half the shrub oak acorns. The last are handsomer now that they have turned so much darker.")
October 14, 1859 ("The shrub oak acorns are now all fallen, — only one or two left on,")
October 15, 1859 ("I see some black oak acorns on the trees still and in some places at least half the shrub oak acorns. The last are handsomer now that they have turned so much darker.")
October 21, 1859 ("A great many shrub oak acorns hold on, and are a darker brown than ever.")
October 28, 1852 ("Suddenly the light of the setting sun yellows and warms all the landscape. The air is filled with a remarkably vaporous haze.")
December 5, 1853 ("See and hear a downy woodpecker on an apple tree. Have not many winter birds, like this and the chickadee, a sharp note like tinkling glass or icicles?")
January 5, 1860 ("I see where the downy woodpecker has worked lately by the chips of bark and rotten wood scattered over the snow, though I rarely see him in the winter. Once to-day, however, I hear his sharp voice.")
January 5, 1860 ("I see where the downy woodpecker has worked lately by the chips of bark and rotten wood scattered over the snow, though I rarely see him in the winter. Once to-day, however, I hear his sharp voice.")
August 28, 2014
If you make the least correct
observation of nature this year,
you will have occasion to repeat it
with illustrations the next,
and the season and life itself is prolonged.
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, August 28
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 © 2009-2022
https://tinyurl.com/HDT28August
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