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
The tree sparrow comes
from the north in the winter
to get its dinner.
 |
| January 16, 2018 |
The last storms have been easterly and northeasterly. January 16, 1856
Yesterday the hounds were heard. It was a hunter's day. All tracks were fresh, the snow deep and light. I met Melvin with his bag full. January 16, 1853
Yesterday the hounds were heard. It was a hunter's day. All tracks were fresh, the snow deep and light. I met Melvin with his bag full. January 16, 1853
Carried to Harris the worms -- brown, light-striped-and fuzzy black caterpillars (he calls the first also caterpillars); also two black beetles; all which I have found within a week or two on ice and snow; thickest in a thaw. January 16, 1855
Cold, with blustering winds drifting the snow. January 16, 1853
This morning was one of the coldest. It improves the walking on the river, freezing the overflow beneath the snow. January 16, 1857
The whole surface of the snow the country over, and of the ice, as yesterday, is rough, as if composed of hailstones half melted together. January 16, 1859
Very warm, — 45° at 2 p. m. January 16, 1860
8 A. M. — Down railroad, measuring snow, having had one bright day since the last flake fell January 16, 1856
As there was a crust which would bear yesterday (as to-day), it cannot have settled much. January 16, 1856
There is a tender crust on the snow, and the sun is brightly reflected from it. January 16, 1860
Why so much (five and one half inches) more now in the woods than on the 12th, as compared with open fields? January 16, 1856
Was the driving snow caught in a small wood, or did it settle less in the rain there, or since the snow on account of bushes? January 16, 1856
With this snow the fences are scarcely an obstruction to the traveller; he easily steps over them. Often they are buried. January 16, 1856
The snow is much deeper in yards, roads, and all small inclosures than in broad fields. January 16, 1856
I suspect it is two and a half feet deep in Andromeda Swamps now. January 16, 1856
There is still a good deal of ice on the north sides of woods and in and about the sheltered swamps. January 16, 1859
To Walden and thence via Cassandra Ponds to Fair Haven and down river. January 16, 1859
To Walden and thence via Cassandra Ponds to Fair Haven and down river. January 16, 1859
The snow-crust is rough with the wreck of brilliants under the trees, — an inch or two thick with them under many trees, where they last several days. January 16, 1859
As we go southwestward through the cassandra hollows toward the declining sun, they look successively, both by their form and color, like burnished silvery shields in the midst of which we walked, looking toward the sun. January 16, 1859
The young oaks on the top of a hill in the horizon are very red, perhaps seven or eight miles off and directly opposite to the sun, far more red, no doubt, than they would appear near at hand, really bright red. January 16, 1860
As we go southwestward through the cassandra hollows toward the declining sun, they look successively, both by their form and color, like burnished silvery shields in the midst of which we walked, looking toward the sun. January 16, 1859
The young oaks on the top of a hill in the horizon are very red, perhaps seven or eight miles off and directly opposite to the sun, far more red, no doubt, than they would appear near at hand, really bright red. January 16, 1860
It is an aerial effect, depending on their distance and elevation and being opposite to the sun, and also contrasted with the snowy ground. January 16, 1860
Looking from Smith's Hill on the Turnpike, the hills eight or ten miles west are white, but the mountains thirty miles off are blue, though both may be equally white at the same distance. January 16, 1860
As I pass the Island (Egg Rock), I notice the ice-foot adhering to the rock about two feet above the surface of the ice generally. January 16, 1857
The ice therefor a few feet in width slants up to it, and, owing to this, the snow is blown off it. This edging of ice revealed is peculiarly green by contrast with the snow, January 16, 1857
I hear flying over (and see) a snow bunting, -- a clear loud tcheep or tcheop, sometimes rapidly trilled or quavered, -- calling its mates. January 16, 1856
I see a flock of tree sparrows busily picking some thing from the surface of the snow amid some bushes. January 16, 1860
I watch one attentively, and find that it is feeding on the very fine brown chaffy-looking seed of the panicled andromeda. January 16, 1860
This shrub grows unobserved by most, only known to botanists, and at length matures its hard, dry seed-vessels, which, if noticed, are hardly supposed to contain seed. January 16, 1860
Though you may have never noticed it, the tree sparrow comes from the north in the winter straight to this shrub, and confidently shakes its panicle, and then feasts on the fine shower of seeds that falls from it. January 16, 1860
It understands how to get its dinner, to make the plant give down, perfectly January 16, 1860
It understands how to get its dinner, to make the plant give down, perfectly January 16, 1860
There is no shrub nor weed which is not known to some bird. January 16, 1860
*****
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Tree Sparrow
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Snow Bunting
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Winter Birds
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Winter Colors
*****
March 23, 1859 ("The dense birches. . . reflect deep, strong purple and violet colors from the distant hillsides opposite to the sun.")
April 3, 1853 ("Looking up the river yesterday, in a direction opposite to the sun, not long before it set, the water was of a rich, dark blue — while looking at it in a direction diagonal to this, i. e. northeast, it was nearly slate-colored..")April 5, 1856 ("We overlook the bright-blue flood alternating with fields of ice (we being on the same side with the sun)")
April 9, 1859 ("Standing low and more opposite to the sun, then all these dark-blue ripples are all sparkles too bright to look at.")
April 9, 1859 ("For three weeks past, when I have looked northward toward the flooded meadows they have looked dark-blue or blackish")
April 9, 1859 ("Standing low and more opposite to the sun, then all these dark-blue ripples are all sparkles too bright to look at.")
April 9, 1859 ("For three weeks past, when I have looked northward toward the flooded meadows they have looked dark-blue or blackish")
August 5, 1852 (" From Smith's Hill beyond, there is as good a view of the mountains as from any place in our neighbor hood, because you look across the broad valley in which Concord lies first of all.");
Septembers 23, 1852 ("How much longer a mile appears between two blue mountain peaks thirty or more miles off in the horizon than one would expect!")
Septembers 23, 1852 ("How much longer a mile appears between two blue mountain peaks thirty or more miles off in the horizon than one would expect!")
September 24, 1851 ("You see distinctly eight or ten miles the russet earth and even houses, and then its outline is distinctly traced against the further blue mountains, thirty or thirty-five miles distant.")
September 27, 1852 ("From Smith's Hill I looked toward the mountain line.")
September 27, 1852 ("From Smith's Hill I looked toward the mountain line.")
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")
November 1, 1858 ("If you wish to count the scarlet oaks. do it now. Stand on a hilltop in the woods, when the sun is an hour high and the sky is clear, and every one within range of your vision will be revealed. ")
November 4, 1860 ("The birch begins to shed its seed about the time our winter birds arrive from the north")
November 17, 1859 (“How fair and memorable this prospect when you stand opposite to the sun, these November afternoons, and look over the red andromeda swamp”)
November 20, 1858 ("As I returned over Conantum summit yesterday, just before sunset, . . . I was surprised to see a broad halo travelling with me and always opposite the sun to me, at least a quarter of a mile off and some three rods wide, on the shrub oaks")
November 22, 1860 ("Simply to see to a distant horizon through a clear air, - the fine outline of a distant hill or a blue mountaintop through some new vista, - this is wealth enough for one afternoon.")
December 4, 1850 ("The shrub oak fire burns briskly as seen from the Cliffs")
November 4, 1860 ("The birch begins to shed its seed about the time our winter birds arrive from the north")
November 17, 1859 (“How fair and memorable this prospect when you stand opposite to the sun, these November afternoons, and look over the red andromeda swamp”)
November 20, 1858 ("As I returned over Conantum summit yesterday, just before sunset, . . . I was surprised to see a broad halo travelling with me and always opposite the sun to me, at least a quarter of a mile off and some three rods wide, on the shrub oaks")
November 22, 1860 ("Simply to see to a distant horizon through a clear air, - the fine outline of a distant hill or a blue mountaintop through some new vista, - this is wealth enough for one afternoon.")
December 4, 1850 ("The shrub oak fire burns briskly as seen from the Cliffs")
December 21, 1856("The scarlet oak leaves, which are very numerous still, are of a ruddy color, having much blood in their cheeks. They are all winter the reddest on the hillsides. ")
January 1, 1857 (" I observe a shelf of ice — what arctic voyagers call the ice-belt or ice-foot (which they see on a very great scale sledging upon it) — adhering to the walls and banks at various heights, the river having fallen nearly two feet since it first froze")
January 1, 1853 ("Sibley told me that Agassiz told him that Harris was the greatest entomologist in the world, and gave him permission to repeat his remark")January 2, 1859 ("Looking from the southwest side of Walden toward Heywood's Peak before sunset, the brown light on the oak leaves is almost dazzling.")
January 2, 1859 ("The color of young oaks of different species is still distinct, but more faded and blended, becoming a more uniform brown.")
January 5, 1858 ("I see one of those fuzzy winter caterpillars, black at the two ends and brown-red in middle, crawling on a rock by the Hunt's Bridge causeway.")
January 8, 1857 ("I picked up on the bare ice of the river, opposite the oak in Shattuck's land, on a small space blown bare of snow, a fuzzy caterpillar, black at the two ends and red-brown in the middle, rolled into a ball.”)
January 15, 1855 ("It has just been snowing, and this lies in shallow drifts or waves on the Great Meadows, alternate snow and ice.")
January 15, 1856 ("The snow appears considerably deeper than the 12th, . . . You are sensible that you are walking at a level a foot or more above the usual one.")January 1, 1857 (" I observe a shelf of ice — what arctic voyagers call the ice-belt or ice-foot (which they see on a very great scale sledging upon it) — adhering to the walls and banks at various heights, the river having fallen nearly two feet since it first froze")
January 1, 1853 ("Sibley told me that Agassiz told him that Harris was the greatest entomologist in the world, and gave him permission to repeat his remark")January 2, 1859 ("Looking from the southwest side of Walden toward Heywood's Peak before sunset, the brown light on the oak leaves is almost dazzling.")
January 2, 1859 ("The color of young oaks of different species is still distinct, but more faded and blended, becoming a more uniform brown.")
January 5, 1858 ("I see one of those fuzzy winter caterpillars, black at the two ends and brown-red in middle, crawling on a rock by the Hunt's Bridge causeway.")
January 8, 1857 ("I picked up on the bare ice of the river, opposite the oak in Shattuck's land, on a small space blown bare of snow, a fuzzy caterpillar, black at the two ends and red-brown in the middle, rolled into a ball.”)
January 15, 1855 ("It has just been snowing, and this lies in shallow drifts or waves on the Great Meadows, alternate snow and ice.")
January 18, 1856 ("What entomologists the birds are!")
January 22, 1860 ("Snow buntings are very wandering. They were quite numerous a month ago, and now seem to have quit the town. They seem to ramble about the country at will. ")
January 24, 1858 (" I see two of those black and red-brown fuzzy caterpillars")
January 24, 1858 (" I see two of those black and red-brown fuzzy caterpillars")
January 24, 1860 ("I watch six tree sparrows, which come from the wood and alight and feed on the ground. . .eating an abundance of the fine grass (short-cropped pasture grass) on that knoll. . . So they vary their fare and there is no danger of their starving.")
January 29, 1856 ("Measure the snow in the same places measured the 16th and 23d, . . . the snow is probably about fourteen on a level in open fields now, or quite as deep as at any time this winter. . . . Since the 13th there has been at no time less than one foot on a level in open fields.")
February 1, 1859 ("Also an ice-belt adheres to the steep shores . . .and you see where this hard and thick ice has bent under its own weight.")
February 12, 1856 ("From January 13th to February 7th, not less than sixteen inches on a level at any one time in open land, and still there is fourteen on a level. That is, for twenty-five days the snow was sixteen inches deep in open land!!”)
February 13, 1856 ("I go in any direction across the fields, stepping over the fences.")
February 14, 1859 ("The ice-belt which I still see along the steep bank of the Assabet is now some three weeks old.")
February 15, 1860 ("The river is rapidly falling, is more than a foot lower than it was a few days ago, so that there is an ice-belt left where the bank is steep, and on this I skate in many places.")
January 29, 1856 ("Measure the snow in the same places measured the 16th and 23d, . . . the snow is probably about fourteen on a level in open fields now, or quite as deep as at any time this winter. . . . Since the 13th there has been at no time less than one foot on a level in open fields.")
February 1, 1859 ("Also an ice-belt adheres to the steep shores . . .and you see where this hard and thick ice has bent under its own weight.")
February 12, 1856 ("From January 13th to February 7th, not less than sixteen inches on a level at any one time in open land, and still there is fourteen on a level. That is, for twenty-five days the snow was sixteen inches deep in open land!!”)
February 13, 1856 ("I go in any direction across the fields, stepping over the fences.")
February 14, 1859 ("The ice-belt which I still see along the steep bank of the Assabet is now some three weeks old.")
February 15, 1860 ("The river is rapidly falling, is more than a foot lower than it was a few days ago, so that there is an ice-belt left where the bank is steep, and on this I skate in many places.")
March 5, 1854 ("See a small blackish caterpillar on the snow. Where do they come from? ")
March 8, 1855 ("I see of late more than before of the fuzzy caterpillars, both black and reddish-brown.”)
January 16, 2024
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, January 16
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 © 2009-2023
https://tinyurl.com/HDT16Jan
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