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
I am detained by
the bright red blackberry leaves
strewn along the sod.
Holding a white pine
needle, turning it in a
favorable light –
I see each of its
edges notched or serrated
with minute bristles.
September 25, 2020
A smart white frost last night, which has killed the sweet potato vines and melons. September 25, 1858
The very crab-grass in our garden is for the most part a light straw-color and withered, probably by the frosts. . . and hundreds of sparrows (chip-birds ?) find their food amid it. September 25, 1859
The same frosts that kill and whiten the corn whiten many grasses thus. September 25, 1859
The same frosts that kill and whiten the corn whiten many grasses thus. September 25, 1859
The season of flowers may be considered as past now that the frosts have come. September 25, 1851
It is beautiful weather, the air wonderfully clear and all objects bright and distinct. September 25, 1851
A very fine and warm afternoon after a cloudy morning. Carry Aunt and Sophia a-barberrying to Conantum. September 25, 1855
The button-bush leaves are rapidly falling and covering the ground with a rich brown carpet. September 25, 1854
I am detained by the very bright red blackberry leaves strewn along the sod, the vine being inconspicuous. September 25, 1854
The river has risen again considerably (this I believe the fourth time), owing to the late copious rains . . . It had not got down before this last rain but to within some eighteen inches, at least, of the usual level in September. September 25, 1856
Prinos berries are fairly ripe for a few days. September 25, 1859
At a distance a fox or an otter withdraws from the riverside. September 25, 1854
The river has risen again considerably (this I believe the fourth time), owing to the late copious rains . . . It had not got down before this last rain but to within some eighteen inches, at least, of the usual level in September. September 25, 1856
At 2 p. m. the river is sixteen and three quarters inches above my hub [?] by boat. September 25, 1859
To bathe in Hubbard's meadow . . . I find the water suddenly cold, and that the bathing days are over. September 25, 1851
On the shrub oak plain, as seen from Cliffs, the red at least balances the green. It looks like a rich, shaggy rug now, before the woods are changed. September 25, 1854
The red maple has fairly begun to blush in some places by the river. I see one, by the canal behind Barrett’s mill, all aglow against the sun . . . such brilliant red on green. September 25, 1857
A single tree becomes the crowning beauty of some meadowy vale and attracts the attention of the traveller from afar. The whole tree, thus ripening in advance of its fellows, attains a singular preéminence. September 25, 1857
The red maple has fairly begun to blush in some places by the river. I see one, by the canal behind Barrett’s mill, all aglow against the sun . . . such brilliant red on green. September 25, 1857
A single tree becomes the crowning beauty of some meadowy vale and attracts the attention of the traveller from afar. The whole tree, thus ripening in advance of its fellows, attains a singular preéminence. September 25, 1857
There is a very red osier-like cornel on the shore by the stone-heaps. September 25, 1858
The scarlet of the dogwood is the most conspicuous and interesting of the autumnal colors at present. You can now easily detect them at a distance; every one in the swamps you overlook is revealed. September 25, 1852
Dogwood (Rhus venenata) is yet but pale-scarlet or yellowish. The R. glabra is more generally turned. September 25, 1857
The smooth sumach and the mountain is a darker, deeper, bloodier red. September 25, 1852
Dogwood (Rhus venenata) is yet but pale-scarlet or yellowish. The R. glabra is more generally turned. September 25, 1857
The smooth sumach and the mountain is a darker, deeper, bloodier red. September 25, 1852
Prinos berries are fairly ripe for a few days. September 25, 1859
The haws of the common thorn are now very good eating and handsome. September 25, 1856
Some of the Crataegus Crus-Galli on the old fence line between Tarbell and T. Wheeler beyond brook are smaller, stale, and not good at all. September 25, 1856
The zizania fruit is green yet, but mostly dropped or plucked. Does it fall, or do birds pluck it? September 25, 1858
We get about three pecks of barberries from four or five bushes, but I fill my fingers with prickles to pay for them. . . . Some bushes bear much larger and plumper berries than others. Some also are comparatively green yet. September 25, 1855
Some of the Crataegus Crus-Galli on the old fence line between Tarbell and T. Wheeler beyond brook are smaller, stale, and not good at all. September 25, 1856
The zizania fruit is green yet, but mostly dropped or plucked. Does it fall, or do birds pluck it? September 25, 1858
We get about three pecks of barberries from four or five bushes, but I fill my fingers with prickles to pay for them. . . . Some bushes bear much larger and plumper berries than others. Some also are comparatively green yet. September 25, 1855
The terminal shield fern and the Aspidium spinulosum (?) are still fresh and green, the first as much so as the polypody. September 25, 1859
I remember that brakes had begun to decay as much as six weeks ago. September 25, 1857
I see at Brister Spring Swamp the (apparently) Aspidium Noveboracense, more than half of it turned white.September 25, 1859
Also some dicksonia is about equally white. September 25, 1859
I see at Brister Spring Swamp the (apparently) Aspidium Noveboracense, more than half of it turned white.September 25, 1859
Also some dicksonia is about equally white. September 25, 1859
In shade is the laboratory of white. Color is produced in the sun. September 25, 1859
The cinnamon ferns are all a decaying brown there. The sober brown colors of those ferns are in harmony with the twilight of the swamp. September 25, 1859
The fall dandelions are a prevailing flower on low turfy grounds, especially near the river. September 25, 1852
Ranunculus reptans still. September 25, 1852
The Gentiana Andrewsii are now in prime at Gentian Shore. Some are turned dark or reddish-purple with age. September 25, 1858
A rose again, apparently lucida (?). This is always unexpected. September 25, 1852
Nabalus albus still common, though much past prime. Though concealed amid trees, I find three humble-bees on one. September 25, 1859
The cinnamon ferns are all a decaying brown there. The sober brown colors of those ferns are in harmony with the twilight of the swamp. September 25, 1859
The fall dandelions are a prevailing flower on low turfy grounds, especially near the river. September 25, 1852
Ranunculus reptans still. September 25, 1852
The Gentiana Andrewsii are now in prime at Gentian Shore. Some are turned dark or reddish-purple with age. September 25, 1858
A rose again, apparently lucida (?). This is always unexpected. September 25, 1852
Nabalus albus still common, though much past prime. Though concealed amid trees, I find three humble-bees on one. September 25, 1859
I see numerous butterflies still, yellow and small red, though not in fleets. September 25, 1851
Examined the hornets ' nest near Hubbard's Grove , suspended from contiguous huckleberry bushes September 25, 1851
The hornets' nest not brown but gray, two shades, whitish and dark, alternating on the outer layers or the covering, giving it a waved appearance. September 25, 1851
You notice now the dark-blue dome of the soapwort gentian in cool and shady places under the bank. September 25, 1857Do I see an F. hyemalis in the Deep Cut? It is a month earlier than last year. September 25, 1854
A golden-crowned thrush runs off, a few feet at a time, on hillside on Harrington road, as if she had a nest still! September 25, 1856
See where the moles have been working in Conant’s meadow,—heaps of fresh meadow mould some eight inches in diameter on the green surface, and now a little hoary. September 25, 1855
Moles work in meadows. September 25, 1859
Scare up the usual great bittern above the railroad bridge, whose hoarse qua qua, as it flies heavily off, a pickerel-fisher on the bank imitates. September 25, 1855
Stopping in my boat under the Hemlocks, I hear singular bird-like chirruping from two red squirrels. One sits high on a hemlock bough with a nut in its paws. September 25, 1857
Suddenly he dodges behind the trunk of the tree, and I hear some birds in the maples across the river utter a peculiar note of alarm. September 25, 1857
I watched the seeds of the milkweed rising higher and higher till lost in the sky September 25, 1851
Hawks, too, I perceive, sailing about in the clear air, looking white against the green pines, like the seeds of the milkweed. September 25, 1851
See two marsh hawks skimming low over the meadows and another, or a hen-hawk, sailing on high. September 25, 1855
Looking round, I see a marsh hawk beating the bushes on that side. September 25, 1857
The catbird still mews occasionally, and the chewink is heard faintly. September 25, 1858
Meanwhile the catbird mews in the alders by my side, and the scream of the jay is heard from the wood-side. September 25, 1855
In these cooler, windier, crystal days the note of the jay sounds a little more native. Standing on the Cliffs, I see them flitting and screaming from pine to pine beneath, displaying their gaudy blue pinions. September 25, 1851
Holding a white pine needle in my hand, and turning it in a favorable light, as I sit upon this cliff, I perceive that each of its three edges is notched or serrated with minute forward-pointing bristles. September 25, 1859
As I came round the island, I took notice of that little ash tree . . . seven small branches have shot up from its circumference, all together forming a perfectly regular oval head. September 25, 1857
That the tree thus has its idea to be lived up to, and, as it were, fills an invisible mould in the air. September 25, 1857
Hard, gusty rain (with thunder and lightning) in afternoon. September 25, 1860
That the tree thus has its idea to be lived up to, and, as it were, fills an invisible mould in the air. September 25, 1857
Hard, gusty rain (with thunder and lightning) in afternoon. September 25, 1860
Brought home my first boat-load of wood. September 25, 1857
When returning, about 4.30 P. M., we observe a slight mistiness, a sea-turn advancing from the east, and soon after felt the raw east wind . . . Aunt thought she could smell the salt marsh in it. September 25, 1855
At home, after sundown, I observe a long, low, and uniformly level slate-colored cloud reaching from north to south throughout the western horizon, which I suppose to be the sea-turn further inland, for we no longer felt the east wind here. September 25, 1855
Bats come out fifteen minutes after sunset, and then I hear some clear song sparrow strains, as from a fence-post amid snows in early spring. September 25, 1854
Bats come out fifteen minutes after sunset, and then I hear some clear song sparrow strains, as from a fence-post amid snows in early spring. September 25, 1854
September 25, 2019
*****
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Marsh Hawk (Northern Harrier)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, American Bittern (the Stake-Diver)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Oven-bird
A Book of the Seasons by Henry Thoreau, the Dark-eyed Junco (Fringilla hyemalis)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Chewink (Rufous-sided Towhee)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Blue Jay
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Red Squirrel
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Fox
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Soapwort Gentian
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Autumnal Dandelion
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Cinnamon Fern
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Common Barberry
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Red Maple
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Luxury of Bathing
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Sea-turn
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Small Red Butterfly
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, September Moods
*****
September 25, 2019
February 12, 1859 ("You may account for that ash by the Rock having such a balanced and regular outline by the fact that in an open place their branches are equally drawn toward the light on all sides, and not because of a mutual understanding through the trunk.")
March 16, 1855 ("At the woodchuck’s hole just beyond the cockspur thorn”)
June 10, 1856 ("The Crataegus Crus-Galli is out of bloom”)
June 12, 1854 ("Rosa lucida, probably yesterday, the 11th, . . . A bud in pitcher the 13th.”)
June 18, 1854 (“The Rosa lucida is pale and low on dry sunny banks like that by Hosmer's pines.”)
June 18, 1854 ("Observe in two places golden-crowned thrushes, near whose nests I must have been”)
July 8, 1856 ("Ranunculus reptans is abundantly out at mouth of brook, Baker shore.")
July 17, 1857 ("Aspidium Noveboracense at Corner Spring, not yet brown; also Aspidium Filix-foemina (?), with lunar-shaped fruit, not yet brown; also apparently a chaffy-stemmed dicksonia, densely brown-fruited")
July 26, 1853 ("Saw one of the common wild roses (R. lucida?).")
August 6, 1852 (“With the goldenrod comes the goldfinch. About the time his cool twitter is heard, does not the . . . oven-bird, etc . cease?”)
August 10, 1853 (“The Ranunculus repens numerously out about Britton's Spring.”)
August 12, 1853 ("To Conantum by boat, berrying, with three ladies.")
August 23, 1858 ("I see a golden-crowned thrush, but it is silent except a chip; sitting low on a twig near the main stem of a tree, in these deep woods ")
August 24, 1856 ("The river meadows probably will not be mown this year. I can hardly get under the stone bridge without striking my boat.”)
August 29, 1858 ("Gentiana Andrewsii, one not quite shedding pollen.")
August 29, 1858 ("Gentiana Andrewsii, one not quite shedding pollen.")
August 30, 1854 (“Dogwood leaves have fairly begun to turn”)
August 31, 1853 ("I see the first dogwood turned scarlet in the swamp")
August 31, 1852 ("The evening of the year is colored like the sunset.")
September 1, 1858 ("Ranunculus repens in bloom — as if begun again ? — at the violet wood-sorrel spring")
September 3, 1857 ("A slate-colored snowbird back.")
August 31, 1853 ("I see the first dogwood turned scarlet in the swamp")
August 31, 1852 ("The evening of the year is colored like the sunset.")
September 1, 1858 ("Ranunculus repens in bloom — as if begun again ? — at the violet wood-sorrel spring")
September 3, 1857 ("A slate-colored snowbird back.")
September 4, 1854 ("Full moon; bats flying about; skaters and water bugs like sparks of fire on the surface between us and the moon.")
September 4, 1859 ("Three kinds of thistles are commonly out now. . .and on them all you are pretty sure to see one or two humblebees")
September 8, 1853 ("Roses, apparently R. lucida, abundantly out on a warm bank on Great Fields by Moore's Swamp, with Viola pedata.")
September 13, 1857 ("The nabalus family generally, apparently now in prime.")
September 19, 1858 ("Hear a chewink’s chewink. But how ineffectual is the note of a bird now! We hear it as if we heard it not, and forget it immediately.")
September 20, 1855 ("The great bittern, as it flies off from near the rail road bridge, filthily drops its dirt and utters a low hoarse kwa kwa; then runs and hides in the grass")
September 21, 1854 ("With this bright, clear, but rather cool air the bright yellow of the autumnal dandelion is in harmony and the heads of the dilapidated goldenrods")
September 21, 1854 ("Hear the chewink and the cluck of the thrasher.")
September 21, 1856 ("I hear of late faint chewink notes in the shrubbery, as if they were meditating their strains in a subdued tone against another year.")
September 21, 1854 ("Hear the chewink and the cluck of the thrasher.")
September 21, 1856 ("I hear of late faint chewink notes in the shrubbery, as if they were meditating their strains in a subdued tone against another year.")
September 22, 1851 ("It is a beautifully clear and bracing air, with just enough coolness, full of the memory of frosty mornings, through which all things are distinctly seen.")
September 22, 1852 ("The soapwort gentian the flower of the river-banks now.")
September 22, 1859 ("I see the fall dandelions all closed in the rain this afternoon. Do they, then, open only in fair or cloudy forenoons and cloudy afternoons? ")
September 22, 1859 ("I see the fall dandelions all closed in the rain this afternoon. Do they, then, open only in fair or cloudy forenoons and cloudy afternoons? ")
September 23, 1853 ("I observe the rounded tops of the dogwood bushes, scarlet in the distance, on the edge of the meadow . . . more full and bright than any flower.")
September 23, 1857 ("Varieties of nabalus grow along the Walden road in the woods; also, still more abundant, by the Flint's Pond road in the woods....”)
September 24, 1851 ("The other evening (22d), just at sunset, I observed that while the west was of a bright golden color under a bank of clouds, — the sun just setting, — and not a tinge of red was yet visible there, there was a distinct purple tinge in the nearer atmosphere, so that Annursnack Hill, seen through it, had an exceedingly rich empurpled look")
September 24, 1855 ("Brought home quite a boat-load of fuel . . . It would be a triumph to get all my winter’s wood thus")
September 24, 1859 ("The tufts of cinnamon fern, now a pale brown.")
September 24, 1854 ("It is now too cold to bathe with comfort.")
I watch the milkweed
rising higher and higher
till lost in the sky.
A splendid sunset,
all its colors prolonged in
rippled reflection.
September 26, 1852 ("The river is getting to be too cold for bathing.")
September 26, 1854 ("Some single red maples are very splendid now, the whole tree bright-scarlet against the cold green pines; now, when very few trees are changed, a most remarkable object in the landscape; seen a mile off.")
September 26, 1855 (Go up Assabet for fuel")
September 26, 1857 ("I watch a marsh hawk circling low along the edge of the meadow, looking for a frog, and now at last it alights to rest on a tussock. ")
September 27, 1855 ("Some single red maples now fairly make a show along the meadow. I see a blaze of red reflected from the troubled water.")
September 27, 1857 ("The large common ferns (either cinnamon or interrupted) are yellowish, and also many as rich a deep brown now as ever.")
September 28, 1851 ("The fall dandelion is now very fresh and abundant in its prime. ")
September 28, 1852 ("This is the commencement, then, of the second spring. Violets, Potentilla Canadensis, lambkill, wild rose, yellow lily, etc., etc., begin again")
September 29, 1854 (" I hear a very pleasant and now unusual strain on the sunny side of an oak wood from many — I think F. hyemalis, though I do not get a clear view of them.")
What astronomer
can calculate the orbit
of my thistle-down?
September 30, 1854 ("The song sparrow is still about, and the blackbird.")
October 4, 1857 ("Hear a catbird and chewink, both faint.")
October 8, 1855 (" Hear a song sparrow sing.")
October 15, 1859 ("See a Fringilla hyemalis")
October 22, 1855 ("Some F. hyemalis and other sparrows, are actively flitting about amid the alders and dogwood")
October 4, 1857 ("Hear a catbird and chewink, both faint.")
October 8, 1855 (" Hear a song sparrow sing.")
October 15, 1859 ("See a Fringilla hyemalis")
October 22, 1855 ("Some F. hyemalis and other sparrows, are actively flitting about amid the alders and dogwood")
October 23, 1853 ("The Aster undulatus is still quite abundant and fresh on this high, sunny bank. . . in large, dense masses, two or three feet high, pale purple or whitish, and covered with humble bees")
October 23, 1857 ("The ferns which I can see on the bank, apparently all evergreens, are polypody at rock, marginal shield fern, terminal shield fern, and (I think it is) Aspidium spinulosum.. . .The above-named evergreen ferns are so much the more conspicuous on that pale-brown ground. They stand out all at once and are seen to be evergreen; their character appears.”)
October 28, 1858 ("The dogwood on the island is perhaps in its prime, — a distinct scarlet, with half of the leaves green in this case.");
November 11, 1858 ("The flowering dogwood, though still leafy, is uninteresting and partly withered.")
November 25, 1857 ("I see a fox run across the road in the twilight")
October 28, 1858 ("The dogwood on the island is perhaps in its prime, — a distinct scarlet, with half of the leaves green in this case.");
November 11, 1858 ("The flowering dogwood, though still leafy, is uninteresting and partly withered.")
November 25, 1857 ("I see a fox run across the road in the twilight")
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| September 25, 2017 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. September 24 <<<<<<<<< September 25 >>>>>>>> September 26 A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, September 25
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