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
Hear the first chewink
now hopping and chewinking
among the shrub oaks.
How pleasant in spring
a still overcast day like this
when water is smooth.
And the robin sings
with more vigor and promise
this mizzling still day.
What we should have called
a warm day in March is a
cold one at this date.
April 26, 2021
What they call April weather, threatening rain notwithstanding the late long-continued rains. . . . Lay on the dead grass in a cup-like hollow sprinkled with half-dead low shrub oaks. As I lie flat, looking close in among the roots of the grass, I perceive that its endless ribbon has pushed up about one inch and is green to that extent, — such is the length to which the spring has gone here, — though when you stand up the green is not perceptible. It is a dull, rain dropping and threatening afternoon, inclining to drowsiness. I feel as if I could go to sleep under a hedge. The landscape wears a subdued tone, quite soothing to the feelings; no glaring colors. I begin now to leave off my greatcoat. The frogs at a distance are now so numerous that, instead of the distinct shrill peeps, it is one dreamy sound. It is not easy to tell where or how far off they are. When you have reached their pool, they seem to recede as you advance. As you squat by the side of the pool, you still see no motion in the water, though your ears ring with the sound, seemingly and probably within three feet.I sat for ten minutes on the watch, waving my hand over the water that they might betray themselves, a tortoise, with his head out, a few feet off, watching me all the while, till at last I caught sight of a frog under a leaf, and caught and pocketed him; but when I looked afterward, he had escaped.The moment the dog stepped into the water they stopped. They are very shy. Hundreds filled the air with their shrill peep. Yet two or three could be distinguished by some peculiarity or variation in their note. Are these different? The Viola ovata budded. Saw pollywogs two or three inches long. April 26, 1852
The blossoms of the red maple (some a yellowish green) are now most generally conspicuous and handsome scarlet crescents over the swamps. Going over Ponkawtasset, hear a [ruby]-crested wren, — the robin’s note, etc., —in the tops of the high wood; see myrtle-birds and half a dozen pigeons. The prate of the last is much like the creaking of a tree. They lift their wings at the same moment as they sit. There are said to be many about now. See their warm-colored breasts. I see pigeon woodpeckers billing on an oak at a distance. See and hear chewinks, — all their strains; the same date with last year, by accident. Many male and female white-throated sparrows feeding on the pasture with the song sparrow. The male’s white is buff in the female. A brown thrasher seen at a little distance. We see and hear more birds than usual this mizzling and still day, and the robin sings with more vigor and promise than later in the season. April 26, 1855
Worm-piles about the door-step this morning; how long? The white cedar gathered the 23d does not shed pollen in house till to-day, and I doubt if it will in swamp before to-morrow. Monroe’s larch will, apparently, by day after to-morrow. April 26, 1856
We sit on the shore at Wheeler's fence, opposite Merriam's. At this season still we go seeking the sunniest, most sheltered, and warmest place. C. says this is the warmest place he has been in this year. We are in this like snakes that lie out on banks. In sunny and sheltered nooks we are in our best estate. There our thoughts flow and we flourish most. By and by we shall seek the shadiest and coolest place. How well adapted we are to our climate! In the winter we sit by fires in the house; in spring and fall, in sunny and sheltered nooks; in the summer, in shady and cool groves, or over water where the breeze circulates. Thus the average temperature of the year just suits us. Generally, whether in summer or winter, we are not sensible either of heat or cold. The white cedar is apparently just out. The higher up the tree, the earlier. . . . Father says he saw a boy with a snapping turtle yesterday.. April 26, 1857
A little snow in the night, which is seen against the fences this morning. See a chewink (male) in the Kettell place woods. April 26, 1858
Start for Lynn. Rice says that he saw a large mud turtle in the river about three weeks ago, and has seen two or three more since. Thinks they come out about the first of April. He saw a woodchuck the 17th; says he heard a toad on the 23d. P. M. — Walked with C. M. Tracy in the rain in the western part of Lynn, near Dungeon Rock. This is the last of the rains (spring rains!) which invariably followed an east wind. April 26, 1859
Hear the ruby-crowned wren in the morning, near George Heywood's. We have had no snow for a long long while, and have about forgotten it. Dr. Bartlett, therefore, surprises us by telling us that a man came from Lincoln after him last night on the wheels of whose carriage was an inch of snow, for it snowed there a little, but not here. This is connected with the cold weather of yesterday; the chilling wind came from a snow-clad country. As the saying is, the cold was in the air and had got to come down. To-day it is 53° at 2 P. M., yet cold, such a difference is there in our feelings. What we should have called a warm day in March is a cold one at this date in April. It is the northwest wind makes it cold. Out of the wind it is warm. It is not, methinks, the same air at rest in one place and in motion in another, but the cold that is brought by the wind seems not to affect sheltered and sunny nooks. April 26, 1860
*****
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, A Sunny Nook in Spring
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Wood Frog (Rana sylvatica)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Ring of Toads
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The first frogs to begin calling
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Yellow-Spotted Turtle (Emys guttata)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Painted Turtle (Emys picta)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Chewink (Rufous-sided Towhee)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the ruby-crowned or crested wren.
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the White-throated Sparrow.
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Robins in Spring
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Pigeon Woodpecker
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Snipe
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Pigeon Hawk (Merlin)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Red Maple
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Larch in Spring
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Violets
April 26, 2012
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, I love you like I love the sky
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, April 26
"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/HDT26April
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