Sunrise directly
over east end of street but
not yet equinox.
Green or reddish leaves
now spotted with yellow eyes –
the sarsaparilla.
September 6, 1854
The cinnamon ferns
yellow along the edge of the
woods next the meadow.
Sessile-leaved bellwort
yellow green brown together
or separately.
Incessant flashes
lighting the edge of the cloud –
a rush of cool wind.
Spikenard, Mt. Prichard
September 6, 2020
6 A. M. —To Hill. The sun is rising directly over the eastern (magnetic east) end of the street. Not yet the equinox. September 6, 1854
Every morning for a week there has been a fog which all disappearedby seven or eight o'clock. September 6, 1851
Warm weather again, and sultry nights the last two. September 6, 1854
A very warm day, one of the warmest of the year. September 6, 1854
The last a splendid moonlight and quite warm. September 6, 1854
The “doubly compound racemed panicles” of the spikenard berries, varnish-colored berries, or color of varnished mahogany. September 6, 1852
I think I may say that large Solomon’s-seal berries have begun to be red. September 6, 1854
Saw, sailing over Mason Village about 10 A. M., a white-headed and white-tailed eagle with black wings, — a grand sight. September 6, 1852
High blackberries by the roadside abundant still, the long, sweet, mulberry-shaped ones, mostly confined to the road, and very grateful to the walker. September 6, 1852
I see the flowering raspberry still in bloom. This plant is quite common here [Brattleboro]. The fruit, now ripe, is red and quite agreeable, but not abundant. September 6, 1856
The ripening grapes begin to fill the air with their fragrance. September 6, 1851
The vervain will hardly do for a clock, for I perceive that some later and smaller specimens have not much more than begun to blossom, while most have done. September 6, 1851
At Ledum Pool edge, I find the Woodwardia Virginica fern, its fruit mostly turned deep reddish-brown. It appears to grow only close to the pool, part of the fruit forming two lines parallel with the midrib.September 6, 1858
That swamp is a singularly wild place, without any natural outlet. I hear of a marsh hawk’s nest there this summer. I see great spiders there of an uncommon kind, whose webs — the main supporting line — stretch six feet in the clear from spruce to spruce, as high as my head, with a dense web of the usual form some fifteen inches in diameter beneath. September 6, 1858
A third part of the nesaea there is turned scarlet. September 6, 1858
The hairy huckleberries are rather scarce and soft. They are insipid and leave a hairy skin in the mouth. September 6, 1858
Kalmia glauca is again in bloom. September 6, 1858
Annursnack never looked so well as now seen from this hill. September 6, 1851
The ether gives a velvet softness to the whole landscape. The hills float in it. A blue veil is drawn over the earth. September 6, 1851
Prenanthes alba; this Gray calls Nabalus albus, white lettuce or rattlesnake-root. Also I seem (?) to have found Nabalus Fraseri, or lion's foot. September 6, 1851
Looking from this hill over Acton, successive valleys filled with bluemist appear, and divided by darker lines of wooded hills. September 6, 1851
The horizon is remarkably blue with mist this afternoon. September 6, 1851
The ether gives a velvet softness to the whole landscape. The hills float in it. A blue veil is drawn over the earth. September 6, 1851
Eupatorium ageratoides, white snake-root, in rather low ground or on banks along riverside, apparently in prime. September 6, 1856 (Brattleboro)
 |
| Snake-root September 6, 2020 (Mt. Pritchard) |
The shadows of the elms are deepened, as if the whole atmosphere were permeated by floods of ether. September 6, 1851
I hear occasionally a half-warbled strain from a warbling vireo in the elm-tops, as I go down the street nowadays. September 6, 1859
There is about as much life in their notes now as in the enfeebled and yellowing elm tree leaves at present. September 6, 1859
Hear a warbling vireo, sounding very rare and rather imperfect. September 6, 1858
I think this is what I have mistaken for the young purple finch note. September 6, 1858
Also hear apparently a yellow-throated vireo. September 6, 1858
Some fields are completely yellow — one mass of yellow — from the solidago. It is the prevailing flower the traveller sees. September 6, 1852
Solidago nemoralis is apparently in prime on Lupine Hill; some of it past. It is swarming with butterflies, — yellow, small red, and large, — fluttering over it. September 6, 1858
The liatris is, perhaps, a little past prime. September 6, 1859
It is a very rich purple in favorable lights and makes a great show where it grows. September 6, 1859
Any one to whom it is new will be surprised to learn that it is a wild plant. September 6, 1859
For prevalence and effect it may be put with the vernonia, and it has a general resemblance to thistles and knapweed, but is a handsomer plant than any of them. September 6, 1859
In the afternoon, to the Hollowell place via Hubbard Bath, crossing the river. September 6, 1854
The water is again warmer than I should have believed; say an average summer warmth, yet not so warm as it has been. It makes me the more surprised that only that day and a half of rain should have made it so very cold when I last bathed here. September 6, 1854
The willows and button-bushes have very rapidly yellowed. September 6, 1860
The sarsaparilla leaves, green or reddish, are spotted with yellow eyes centred with reddish, or dull-reddish eyes with yellow iris. 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 6, 1854
Some white oak leaves are covered with dull-yellow spots. September 6, 1854
They have a very pretty effect held over the forest floor, beautiful in their decay. September 6, 1854
The sessile-leaved bellwort is yellow, green, and brown, all together or separately. September 6, 1854
The larches in the front yards, both Scotch and American, have turned red. Their fall has come. September6, 1851
I see a very large flock of a hundred or more cowbirds about some cows. They whirl and settle on a white oak top near me. Half of them are evidently quite young birds, having glossy black breasts with a drab line down middle. September 6, 1858
Girls picking hops in Townsend. September 6, 1852
There is now approaching from the west one of the heaviest thunder-showers (apparently) and with the most incessant flashes that I remember to have seen. September 6, 1854
It must be twenty miles off, at least. for I can hardly hear the thunder at all. September 6, 1854
The almost incessant flashes reveal the form of the cloud, at least the upper and lower edge of it, but it stretches north and south along the horizon further than we see. September 6, 1854
Every minute I see the crinkled lightning, intensely bright, dart to earth or forkedly along the cloud. September 6, 1854
The flashes are, in fact, incessant for an hour or more, though lighting up different parts of the horizon,— now the edges of the cloud, now far along the horizon, —showing a clearer golden space beneath the cloud where rain is falling, through which stream tortuously to earth the brilliant bolts. September 6, 1854
We feel the rush of the cool wind while the thunder is yet scarcely audible. September 6, 1854
September 6, 2020
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, September
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, September Moonlight
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Raspberry
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Blackberries
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Solomon's Seal
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Blue Vervain
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Lambkill (Kalmia augustifolia)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Cinnamon Fern
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, at Ledum Swamp
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Marsh Hawk (Northern Harrier)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Liatris
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Young Birds
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Small Red Butterfly
A Book of Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Larch
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Luxury of Bathing
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Horizon
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The White-headed Eagle
*****
August 26, 1858 ("The liatris is about (or nearly) in prime.")
September 3, 1853 ("Now is the season for those comparatively rare but beautiful wild berries which are not food for man.. . .Berries which are as beautiful as flowers, but far less known, the fruit of the flower.")
September 4, 1856 ("Aralia racemosa berries just ripe . . . not edible. ")
September 4, 1859 ("See a very large mass of spikenard berries fairly ripening, eighteen inches long.")
September 4, 1853 ("Hear a warbling vireo, — something rare");
September 5, 1856 ("Hereabouts women and children are already picking hops in the fields, in the shade of large white sheets, like sails.")
September 7, 1858 ("It is an early September afternoon,. . . the field is yellowed with a Xerxean army of Solidago nemoralis between me and the sun ")
September 8, 1856 ("Gathered flowering raspberries in all my walks and found them a pleasant berry, large, but never abundant")
September 11, 1859 ("September is the month when various small, and commonly inedible, berries in cymes and clusters hang over the roadsides and along the walls and fences, or spot the forest floor")
September 13, 1858 ("Hear many warbling vireos these mornings");
September 16, 1852 ("I hear a warbling vireo in the village, which I have not heard for long.")
September 20, 1858 ("Hear warbling vireos still, in the elms");
September 20, 1852 ("Droves of cattle have for some time been coming down from up-country")
November 22, 1860 ("the fine outline of a distant hill or a blue mountain-top through some new vista, -– this is wealth enough for one afternoon.")
*****
September 6, 2020
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 5 <<<<<<<<< September 6. >>> >>>>> September 7
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, September 6
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
tinyurl.com/HDT06SEPT
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