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
At the Cliffs I find
wasps prolonging their short lives
on the sunny rocks.
The sour scent of ferns
reminds me of the season
and of the past years.
October 2, 2014
A dark and windy night the last. It is a new value when darkness amounts to something positive. Each morning now, after rain and wind, is fresher and cooler, and leaves still green reflect a brighter sheen. October 2, 1858
It is a little hazy as I look into the west to-day. October 2, 1851
A very warm day after the frosts, so that I wish — though I am afraid to wear — a thin coat. October 2, 1852
There are but few and faint autumnal tints about Walden yet. October 2, 1853
The leaves of some trees merely wither, turn brown, and drop off at this season, without any conspicuous flush of beauty, while others now first attain to the climax of their beauty. October 2, 1857
The shrub oaks on the terraced plain are now almost uniformly of a deep red. October 2, 1851
From Cliffs the shrub oak plain has now a bright-red ground, perhaps of maples. October 2, 1852
How much more beautiful the lakes now, like Fair Haven, surrounded by the autumn-tinted woods and hills, as in an ornamented frame! October 2, 1852
A great many red maples are merely yellow; more, scarlet, in some cases deepening to crimson. October 2, 1857
Some maples in sprout-lands are of a delicate, pure, clear, unspotted red, inclining to crimson, surpassing most flowers. I would fain pluck the whole tree and carry it home for a nosegay. October 2, 1852
Sitting on a rock east of Trillium Woods, I perceive that, generally speaking, it is only the edge or pediment of the woods that shows the bright autumnal tints yet (while the superstructure is green) October 2, 1857
The mountain sumach now a dark scarlet quite generally. October 2, 1856
The smooth sumach is but a dull red. October 2, 1853
This changing of the leaves — their brighter tints — must have to do with cold, for it begins in the low meadows and in frosty hollows in the woods. There is where you must look as yet for the bright tints. October 2, 1857
There is a more or less general reddening of the leaves at this season, down to the cinquefoil and mouse-ear, sorrel and strawberry under our feet. October 2, 1857
From Cliffs the shrub oak plain has now a bright-red ground, perhaps of maples. October 2, 1852
How much more beautiful the lakes now, like Fair Haven, surrounded by the autumn-tinted woods and hills, as in an ornamented frame! October 2, 1852
A great many red maples are merely yellow; more, scarlet, in some cases deepening to crimson. October 2, 1857
Some maples in sprout-lands are of a delicate, pure, clear, unspotted red, inclining to crimson, surpassing most flowers. I would fain pluck the whole tree and carry it home for a nosegay. October 2, 1852
Sitting on a rock east of Trillium Woods, I perceive that, generally speaking, it is only the edge or pediment of the woods that shows the bright autumnal tints yet (while the superstructure is green) October 2, 1857
The mountain sumach now a dark scarlet quite generally. October 2, 1856
The smooth sumach is but a dull red. October 2, 1853
This changing of the leaves — their brighter tints — must have to do with cold, for it begins in the low meadows and in frosty hollows in the woods. There is where you must look as yet for the bright tints. October 2, 1857
There is a more or less general reddening of the leaves at this season, down to the cinquefoil and mouse-ear, sorrel and strawberry under our feet. October 2, 1857
So many maple and pine and other leaves have now fallen that in the woods, at least, you walk over a carpet of fallen leaves. October 2, 1859
Some of the white pines on Fair Haven Hill have just reached the acme of their fall; others have almost entirely shed their leaves, and they are scattered over the ground and the walls. October 2, 1851
The same is the state of the pitch pines. October 2, 1851
The white pines have scarcely begun at all to change here, though a week ago last Wednesday they were fully changed at Bangor. There is fully a fortnight's difference, and methinks more. The witch-hazel, too, was more forward there. October 2, 1853
The gentian in Hubbard's Close is frost-bitten extensively. As the witch-hazel is raised above frost and can afford to be later, for this reason also I think it is so. October 2, 1853
The fringed gentian at Hubbard's Close has been out some time, and most of it already withered. October 2, 1857
The erechthites down (fire-weed) is conspicuous in sprout-lands of late, since its leaves were killed. October 2, 1857
Succory still, with its cool blue, here and there, and Hieracium Canadense still quite fresh, with its very pretty broad strap-shaped rays, broadest at the end, alternately long and short, with five very regular sharp teeth in the end of each. October 2, 1856
Eupatorium purpureum is generally done. October 2, 1856
Now and then I see a Hypericum Canadense flower still. The leaves, etc., of this and the angulosum are turned crimson. October 2, 1856
The Aster undulatus and Solidago coesia and often puberula are particularly prominent now, looking late and bright, attracting bees, etc. October 2, 1859
I see the S. coesia so covered with the little fuzzy gnats as to be whitened by them. October 2, 1859
How bright the S. puberula in sprout-lands, — its yellow wand, — perhaps in the midst of a clump of little scarlet or dark-purple black oaks! October 2, 1859
Solidago speciosa completely out, though not a flower was out September 27th, or five days ago; say three or four days. October 2, 1856
Solidago bicolor considerably past prime. October 2, 1856
Saw apparently two phoebes on the tops of the dry mulleins. Why so rarely seen for so many months? October 2, 1856
The garden is alive with migrating sparrows these mornings. October 2, 1858
The chickadees of late have winter ways, flocking after you. October 2, 1857
Hear a hylodes in the swamp. October 2, 1859
September 20, 1852 ("The smooth sumachs are turning conspicuously and generally red, apparently from frost")
Some of the white pines on Fair Haven Hill have just reached the acme of their fall; others have almost entirely shed their leaves, and they are scattered over the ground and the walls. October 2, 1851
The same is the state of the pitch pines. October 2, 1851
The white pines have scarcely begun at all to change here, though a week ago last Wednesday they were fully changed at Bangor. There is fully a fortnight's difference, and methinks more. The witch-hazel, too, was more forward there. October 2, 1853
Succory still, with its cool blue, here and there, and Hieracium Canadense still quite fresh, with its very pretty broad strap-shaped rays, broadest at the end, alternately long and short, with five very regular sharp teeth in the end of each. October 2, 1856
Corydalis still fresh. October 2, 1856
The veiny-leaved hawkweed in blossom (again?). October 2, 1852
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, with its bristly leaves. Its seed-vessels are perfect little cream-pitchers of graceful form. October 2, 1856
The prinos berries are in their prime, seven sixteenths of an inch in diameter. They are scarlet, some what lighter than the arum berries. They are now very fresh and bright, and what adds to their effect is the perfect freshness and greenness of the leaves amid which they are seen. October 2, 1856
Gerardia purpurea still. 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, with its bristly leaves. Its seed-vessels are perfect little cream-pitchers of graceful form. October 2, 1856
The prinos berries are in their prime, seven sixteenths of an inch in diameter. They are scarlet, some what lighter than the arum berries. They are now very fresh and bright, and what adds to their effect is the perfect freshness and greenness of the leaves amid which they are seen. October 2, 1856
Gerardia purpurea still. October 2, 1856
Eupatorium purpureum is generally done. October 2, 1856
Now and then I see a Hypericum Canadense flower still. The leaves, etc., of this and the angulosum are turned crimson. October 2, 1856
The A. undulatus looks fairer than ever, now that flowers are more scarce. October 2, 1859
I see the S. coesia so covered with the little fuzzy gnats as to be whitened by them. October 2, 1859
How bright the S. puberula in sprout-lands, — its yellow wand, — perhaps in the midst of a clump of little scarlet or dark-purple black oaks! October 2, 1859
Solidago speciosa completely out, though not a flower was out September 27th, or five days ago; say three or four days. October 2, 1856
Solidago bicolor considerably past prime. October 2, 1856
Since the cooler weather many crickets are seen clustered on warm banks and by sunny wall-sides. October 2, 1857
The beggar-ticks (Bidens) now adhere to my clothes. I also find the desmodium sooner thus — as a magnet discovers the steel filings in a heap of ashes — than if I used my eyes alone. October 2, 1852
Brakes in Hubbard's Swamp Wood are withered, quite dry. October 2, 1856
Cinnamon fern four or five feet high . . . now generally imbrowned or crisp. In the more open swamp beyond, these ferns, recently killed by the frost and exposed to the sun, fill the air with a very strong sour scent. October 2, 1857
I perceive in various places, in low ground, this afternoon, the sour scent of cinnamon ferns decaying. It is an agreeable phenomenon, reminding me of the season and of past years. October 2, 1859
Brakes in Hubbard's Swamp Wood are withered, quite dry. October 2, 1856
Cinnamon fern four or five feet high . . . now generally imbrowned or crisp. In the more open swamp beyond, these ferns, recently killed by the frost and exposed to the sun, fill the air with a very strong sour scent. October 2, 1857
I perceive in various places, in low ground, this afternoon, the sour scent of cinnamon ferns decaying. It is an agreeable phenomenon, reminding me of the season and of past years. October 2, 1859
At the Cliffs, I find the wasps prolonging their short lives on the sunny rocks, just as they endeavored to do at my house in the woods. October 2, 1851
Saw apparently two phoebes on the tops of the dry mulleins. Why so rarely seen for so many months? October 2, 1856
The chickadees of late have winter ways, flocking after you. October 2, 1857
Hear a hylodes in the swamp. October 2, 1859
*****
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau. Wasps
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Cinnamon Fern
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, St. Johns-wort (Hypericum)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Fringed Gentian
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau Purple Gerardia
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Red Maple
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The White Pines
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Witch-Hazel
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Shrub Oak
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Pine Fall
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Chickadee in Winter
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Reminiscence and Prompting
*****
June 23, 1858 ("Veiny-leaved hawkweed, how long?");
June 23, 1859 (Veiny-leaved hawkweed freshly out"")
June 23, 1859 (Veiny-leaved hawkweed freshly out"")
August 12, 1852 ("Solidago bicolor, white goldenrod, apparently in good season.")
August 21, 1851 (" I have now found all the hawkweeds. Singular these genera of plants, plants manifestly related yet distinct. They suggest a history to nature, a natural history in a new sense.”)
August 26, 1856 ("These desmodiums are so fine and inobvious that it is difficult to detect them. I go through a grove in vain, but when I get away, find my coat covered with their pods. They found me, though I did not them.”);
August 30, 1859 ("The erechthites down has begun to fly.")
August 26, 1856 ("These desmodiums are so fine and inobvious that it is difficult to detect them. I go through a grove in vain, but when I get away, find my coat covered with their pods. They found me, though I did not them.”);
August 30, 1859 ("The erechthites down has begun to fly.")
September 6, 1854 ("The cinnamon ferns along the edge of woods next the meadow are many yellow or cinnamon, or quite brown and withered.");
September 9, 1852 ("The groundsel down is in the air.")
September 9, 1852 ("The groundsel down is in the air.")
September 10, 1859 ("See wasps, collected in the sun on a wall, at 9 A. M.")
September 12, 1858 ("The cinnamon fern has begun to yellow and wither.")
September 16, 1852 (“Some birds, like some flowers, begin to sing again in the fall.”)
September 20, 1852 ("Aster undulatus, or variable aster, with a large head of middle-sized blue flowers.")September 20, 1852 ("The groundsel and hieracium down is in the air")
September 21, 1856 ("[On top of Cliff, behind the big stump] is a great place for white goldenrod, now in its prime and swarming with honey-bees.");
September 22, 1852 ("How brown and sere the groundsel or "fire-weed” on hillside by Heywood's Meadow, which has been touched by frost,")
September 23, 1854 ("Very brilliant and remarkable now are the prinos berries, so brilliant and fresh when most things -- flowers and berries -- have withered.”)
September 24, 1859 (" Stedman Buttrick's handsome maple and pine swamp is full of cinnamon ferns.")September 25, 1859 ("The cinnamon ferns are all a decaying brown. . . in harmony with the twilight of the swamp")
September 25, 1852 ("The smooth sumach and the mountain is a darker, deeper, bloodier red")
September 25, 1852 ("The smooth sumach and the mountain is a darker, deeper, bloodier red")
September 25, 1859 ("Prinos berries are fairly ripe for a few days")
September 26, 1859 ("So it is with flowers, birds, and frogs a renewal of spring.")
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 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 swamp is bordered with the red-berried alder, or prinos,")
September 29, 1856 ("How surely the desmodium, growing on some rough cliff-side, or the bidens, on the edge of a pool
October 1, 1859 ("The shrub oaks on this hill are now at their height, both with respect to their tints and their fruit.").
October 1, 1857 ("The pines now half turned yellow, the needles of this year are so much the greener by contrast")
September 29, 1856 ("How surely the desmodium, growing on some rough cliff-side, or the bidens, on the edge of a pool
October 1, 1859 ("The shrub oaks on this hill are now at their height, both with respect to their tints and their fruit.").
October 1, 1857 ("The pines now half turned yellow, the needles of this year are so much the greener by contrast")
October 1, 1858 ("The cinnamon ferns are crisp and sour in open grounds")
October 3, 1852 ("The pine fall, i.e. change, is commenced, and the trees are mottled green and yellowish")
October 3, 1856 ("The white pines are now getting to be pretty generally parti-colored, the lower yellowing needles ready to fall.")
October 3, 1858 ("White pines fairly begin to change.")
October 3, 1856 ("The white pines are now getting to be pretty generally parti-colored, the lower yellowing needles ready to fall.")
October 3, 1858 ("White pines fairly begin to change.")
October 3, 1858 ("Hear a hylodes peeping on shore.")
October 3, 1858 ("Some particular maple among a hundred will be of a peculiarly bright and pure scarlet, and, by its difference of tint and intenser color, attract our eyes even at a distance in the midst of the crowd")
October 3, 1858 ("Some particular maple among a hundred will be of a peculiarly bright and pure scarlet, and, by its difference of tint and intenser color, attract our eyes even at a distance in the midst of the crowd")
October 4, 1859 ("The birds seem to delight in these first fine days of the fall, in the warm, hazy light")
October 4, 1859 (“Birds are now seen more numerously than before, as if called out by the fine weather, probably many migrating birds from the north.”)
October 4, 1859 (“Birds are now seen more numerously than before, as if called out by the fine weather, probably many migrating birds from the north.”)
October 5, 1858 ("Phebe note of Chickadee often these days. ")
October 5, 1857 ("The smooth sumach is very important for its mass of clear red or crimson. Some of it is now a very dark crimson.")October 5, 1858 ("I still see large flocks, apparently of chip birds, on the weeds and ground in the yard.”)
October 6, 1856 ("The common notes of the chickadee, so rarely heard for a long time, and also one phebe strain from it, amid the Leaning Hemlocks, remind me of pleasant winter days, when they are more commonly seen.”)
October 6, 1858 ("Cinnamon ferns are generally crisped, but in the swamp I saw some handsomely spotted green and yellowish, and one clump, the handsomest I ever saw.")
October 6, 1858 ("Cinnamon ferns are generally crisped, but in the swamp I saw some handsomely spotted green and yellowish, and one clump, the handsomest I ever saw.")
October 6, 1858 ("The Aster undulatus is now very fair and interesting. Generally a tall and slender plant with a very long panicle of middle-sized lilac or paler purple flowers, bent over to one side the path. ")
October 6, 1858 ("The smooth sumachs, which are in their prime, or perhaps a little past, are, methinks, the most uniform and intense scarlet of any shrub or tree")October 7, 1860 ("Now and for a week the chip-birds in flocks; the withered grass and weeds, etc., alive with them.")
October 8, 1855 ("Flocks of tree sparrows by river, slightly warbling. Hear a song sparrow sing. See apparently white-throated sparrows.”)
October 8, 1855 ("Flocks of tree sparrows by river, slightly warbling. Hear a song sparrow sing. See apparently white-throated sparrows.”)
October 8, 1856 ("Of asters, only corymbosus, undulatus, Tradescanti, and longifolius . . .are common.")
October 8, 1856 (“The trees and weeds by the Turnpike are all alive this pleasant afternoon with twittering sparrows.”)
October 8, 1856 (“The trees and weeds by the Turnpike are all alive this pleasant afternoon with twittering sparrows.”)
October 8, 1852 (“Nothing can exceed the brilliancy of some of the maples which stand by the shore and extend their red banners over the water.”)
October 9, 1853 ("The red maples are now red and also yellow and reddening.")
October 9, 1860 ("I now see one small red maple which is all a pure yellow within and a bright red scarlet on its outer surface and prominences.")
October 9, 1860 ("I now see one small red maple which is all a pure yellow within and a bright red scarlet on its outer surface and prominences.")
October 10, 1851 ("There are many things to indicate the renewing of spring at this season.")
October 10, 1856 "The phebe note of the chickadee is now often heard in the yards, and the very Indian summer itself is a similar renewal of the year, with the faint warbling of birds and second blossoming of flowers.")
October 10, 1857 ("Some Prinos verticillatus yellowing and browning at once, and in low ground just falling and leaving the bright berries bare")
October 11, 1856 ("The white goldenrod is still common here, and covered with bees.")
October 11, 1856 ("Here on the Cliffs are fresh poke flowers and small snapdragon and corydalis.");
October 11, 1856 ("The white goldenrod is still common here, and covered with bees.")
October 11, 1856 ("Here on the Cliffs are fresh poke flowers and small snapdragon and corydalis.");
October 11, 1856 (“Hieracium venosum still.”)
October 12, 1851 ("The seeds of the bidens, or beggar-ticks, with four-barbed awns like hay-hooks, now adhere to your clothes, so that you are all bristling with them.")
October 13, 1852 ("The shrub oak plain is now a deep red,")
October 13, 1857 ("These red maples and young scarlet oaks, etc., have been the most conspicuous and important colors, or patches of color, in the landscape. ")
October 14, 1856 ("Pine-needles, just fallen, now make a thick carpet. ")October 12, 1851 ("The seeds of the bidens, or beggar-ticks, with four-barbed awns like hay-hooks, now adhere to your clothes, so that you are all bristling with them.")
October 13, 1852 ("The shrub oak plain is now a deep red,")
October 13, 1857 ("These red maples and young scarlet oaks, etc., have been the most conspicuous and important colors, or patches of color, in the landscape. ")
October 15, 1856 (“The chickadees are hopping near on the hemlock above. They resume their winter ways before the winter comes.”)
October 16, 1857 ("See the carpet of pale-brown needles under this pine. How light it lies up on the grass, and that great rock, and the wall,")October 17, 1857 ("The cinnamon ferns . . .have acquired their November aspect.")
October 19, 1852 (“ It is too remarkable a flower not to be sought out and admired each year, . . . this conspicuous and handsome and withal blue flower . . .the latest of all to begin to bloom, unless it be the witch-hazel. ”)
October 20, 1858 ("Now in low grounds the different species of bidens or beggar’s-ticks adhere to your clothes. These bidents, tridents, quadridents are shot into you by myriads of unnoticed foes.")
October 19, 1852 (“ It is too remarkable a flower not to be sought out and admired each year, . . . this conspicuous and handsome and withal blue flower . . .the latest of all to begin to bloom, unless it be the witch-hazel. ”)
October 20, 1858 ("Now in low grounds the different species of bidens or beggar’s-ticks adhere to your clothes. These bidents, tridents, quadridents are shot into you by myriads of unnoticed foes.")
October 22, 1858 ("I see, from the Cliffs, that color has run through the shrub oak plain like a fire or a wave, not omitting a single tree.")
October 23, 1853 ("I find my clothes all bristling as with a chevaux-de-frise of beggar-ticks, which hold on for many days")
October 23, 1853 ("I find my clothes all bristling as with a chevaux-de-frise of beggar-ticks, which hold on for many days")
October 23, 1853 ("The prinos is bare, leaving red berries.")
October 23, 1853 ("Many phenomena re mind me that now is to some extent a second spring, — not only the new-springing and blossoming of flowers, but the peeping of the hylodes for some time")
October 23, 1853 ("The Aster undulatus is still quite abundant and fresh on this high, sunny bank, — far more so than the Solidago coesia.")October 23, 1852 ("The chickadees flit along, following me inquisitively a few rods with lisping, tinkling note, — flit within a few feet of me from curiosity, head downward on the pines.")
October 25, 1858 ("The Aster undulatus is now a dark purple (its leaves), with brighter purple or crimson under sides.")
October 25, 1858 ("I see many goldenrods turned purple — all the leaves. Some of them are Solidago coesia and some (I think) S. puberula.")November 2, 1853 ("The prinos berries are almost gone.")
November 3, 1858 ("Aster undulatus is still freshly in bloom.")
November 7, 1858 ("Aster undulatus and several goldenrods, at least, may be found yet.")
November 8, 1858 ("Solidago puberula still out, for you see a few bright yellow solidago flowers long after they are generally turned to a dirty-white fuzzy top.")
November 8, 1858 ("Solidago puberula still out, for you see a few bright yellow solidago flowers long after they are generally turned to a dirty-white fuzzy top.")
December 1, 1853 (T hey are our most honest and innocent little bird, drawing yet nearer to us as the winter advances.”)
December 3, 1856 ("Six weeks ago I noticed the advent of chickadees and their winter habits. As you walk along a wood-side, a restless little flock of them, whose notes you hear at a distance, will seem to say, "Oh, there he goes! Let's pay our respects to him." And they will flit after and close to you, and naively peck at the nearest twig to you, as if they were minding their own business all the while without any reference to you.”)
December 3, 1856 ("Six weeks ago I noticed the advent of chickadees and their winter habits. As you walk along a wood-side, a restless little flock of them, whose notes you hear at a distance, will seem to say, "Oh, there he goes! Let's pay our respects to him." And they will flit after and close to you, and naively peck at the nearest twig to you, as if they were minding their own business all the while without any reference to you.”)
October 2, 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, October 2
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/HDT02Oct
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