Henry Thoreau, March 17, 1857
That raw northwest wind —
the wind of March makes it seem
colder than it is.
March 12, 1860
the wind of March makes it seem
colder than it is.
March 12, 1860
The white caps of the
waves on the flooded meadow
seen from the window.
February 23. I have seen signs of the spring. February 23, 1857
February 25. A strong, gusty wind; the waves on the meadows make a fine show. February 25, 1851
March 2. Hear two hawks scream. There is something truly March-like in it, like a prolonged blast or whistling of the wind through a crevice in the sky. which, like a cracked blue saucer, overlaps the woods. Such are the first rude notes which prelude the summer’s quire, learned of the whistling March wind. March 2, 1855
March 2. See thirty or more crows come flying in the usual irregular zigzag manner in the strong wind, from over M. Miles’s, going northeast, — the first migration of them, — without cawing. March 2, 1860
March 3. Nowadays we have rain, and then high wind directly after it. March 3, 1860
March 4. Though a cold and strong wind, it is very warm in the sun, and we can sit in the sun where sheltered on these rocks with impunity. It is a genial warmth. March 4, 1855
March 4. Thermometer 44; very strong and gusty northwest wind, with electric-looking wind-clouds . . . The last three have been true March days for wind. March 4, 1860
March 5. It is a clear morning with some wind beginning to rise, and for the first time I see the water looking blue on the meadows. March 5, 1854
March 5. A strong but warm southwesterly wind has produced a remarkable haze. As I go along by Sleepy Hollow, this strong, warm wind, rustling the leaves on the hillsides, this blue haze, and the russet earth seen through it, remind me that a new season has come. March 5, 1855
March 5. A strong but warm southwesterly wind has produced a remarkable haze. As I go along by Sleepy Hollow, this strong, warm wind, rustling the leaves on the hillsides, this blue haze, and the russet earth seen through it, remind me that a new season has come. March 5, 1855
March 5. I saw yesterday a musquash sitting on thin ice on the Assabet, by a hole which it had kept open, gnawing a white root. Now and then it would dive and bring up more. I waited for it to dive again, that I might run nearer to it meanwhile, but it sat ten minutes all wet in the freezing wind while my feet and ears grew numb, so tough it is; but at last I got quite near. March 5, 1858
March 6. Still stronger wind, shaking the house, and rather cool. This the third day of wind. March 6, 1855
March 6. Still stronger wind, shaking the house, and rather cool. This the third day of wind. March 6, 1855
March 7. A raw east wind and rather cloudy. March 7, 1855
March 8. There is a fine freezing rain with strong wind from the north; so I keep along under shelter of hills and woods, along their south sides, in my india-rubber coat and boots. March 8, 1859
March 9. These March winds, which make the woods roar and fill the world with life and bustle, appear to wake up the trees out of their winter sleep and excite the sap to flow. I have no doubt they serve some such use, as well as to hasten the evaporation of the snow and water. I hear and see bluebirds, come with the warm wind. March 9, 1852
March 10. A biting northwest wind compels to cover the ears. It is one of the hardest days of the year to bear. Truly a memorable 10th of March March 10, 1856
March 11. Clear and rather pleasant; the ground again bare; wind northerly. March 11, 1855
March 11. It is cold and blustering walking in the wind, though the thermometer is at 40; i. e., though the temperature is thus high, the strong and blustering northwest winds of March make this notorious March weather, which is worse to bear than severe cold without wind. The farmers say that there is nothing equal to the March winds for drying wood. It will dry more this month than it has in all the winter before. March 11, 1860
March 12. The whistling of the wind, which makes one melancholy, inspires another. March 12, 1852
March 12. I look across the meadows to Bedford, and see that peculiar scenery of March, in which I have taken so many rambles, the earth just bare and beginning to be dry, the snow lying on the north sides of hills, the gray deciduous trees and the green pines soughing in the March wind . . .The scenery is like, yet unlike, November; you have the same barren russet, but now, instead of a dry, hard, cold wind, a peculiarly soft, moist air, or else a raw wind. March 12, 1854
March 12. Now you walk in a comparative lull, anticipating fair weather, with but a slight drizzling, and anon the wind blows and the rain drives down harder than ever. March 12, 1859
March 20 . It soon clears off and proves a fair but windy day. I notice havoc along the stream on making my first voyages on it. At my landing I hear the F. hyemalis, in company with a few tree sparrows. They take refuge from the cold wind, half a dozen in all, behind an arbor-vitae hedge, and their plume themselves with puffed-up feathers. March 20, 1855
March 20. Very strong northwest wind . . . I see under the east side of the house amid the evergreens, where they were sheltered from the cold northwest wind, quite a parcel of sparrows, chiefly F. hyemalis, two or three tree sparrows, and one song sparrow, quietly feeding together. I watch them through a window within six or eight feet. They evidently love to be sheltered from the wind.. March 20, 1859
March 20 . A foggy morning; turns to some April-like rain, after east wind of yesterday. March 20, 1860
March 21. It is a genial and reassuring day; the mere warmth of the west wind amounts almost to balminess. March 21, 1853
March 21. Clear, but a very cold westerly wind this morning. March 21, 1855
March 21. Sail to Fair Haven Pond. A strong northwest wind. March 21, 1859
March 21. From the evening of March 18th to this, the evening of the 21st, we have had uninterrupted strong wind, — till the evening of the 19th very strong south west wind, then and since northwest, — three days of strong wind. March 21, 1859
March 22. Launch my boat and row downstream. There is a strong and cool northwest wind. March 22, 1858
March 22. The wind changes to easterly and is more raw, i. e. cool and moist, and the air thickens as if it would rain. March 22, 1859
March 22. The phenomena of an average March are increasing warmth, melting the snow and ice and, gradually, the frost in the ground; cold and blustering weather, with high, commonly northwest winds for many days together. March 22, 1860
March 8. Another fair day with easterly wind . . . Stopping in a sunny and sheltered place on a hillock in the woods, — for it is raw in the wind, — I hear the hasty, shuffling, as if frightened, note of a robin from a dense birch wood . . . This sound reminds me of rainy, misty April days in past years. March 8, 1855
March 8. Such a day as this, I resort . . . to the bare ground and the sheltered sides of woods and hills — and there explore the moist ground for the radical leaves of plants, while the storm blows overhead, and I forget how the time is passing. March 8, 1859
March 8. There is a fine freezing rain with strong wind from the north; so I keep along under shelter of hills and woods, along their south sides, in my india-rubber coat and boots. March 8, 1859
March 8. Nowadays we separate the warmth of the sun from the cold of the wind and observe that the cold does not pervade all places, but being due to strong northwest winds, if we get into some sunny and sheltered nook where they do not penetrate, we quite forget how cold it is elsewhere. March 8, 1860
March 9.Yet it is cool and raw and very windy . . . It is worthwhile to hear the wind roar in the woods to-day. It sounds further off than it is. March 9, 1859
March 9. For a few days past it has been generally colder and rawer, and the ground has been whitened with snow two or three times, but it has all been windy. You incline to walk now along the south side of hills which will shelter you from the blustering northwest and north winds. March 9, 1860
March 10. A strong, cold northerly wind all day, with occasional gleams of sunshine. March 10, 1855
March 10. A biting northwest wind compels to cover the ears. It is one of the hardest days of the year to bear. Truly a memorable 10th of March March 10, 1856
March 11. Clear and rather pleasant; the ground again bare; wind northerly. March 11, 1855
March 11. It is cold and blustering walking in the wind, though the thermometer is at 40; i. e., though the temperature is thus high, the strong and blustering northwest winds of March make this notorious March weather, which is worse to bear than severe cold without wind. The farmers say that there is nothing equal to the March winds for drying wood. It will dry more this month than it has in all the winter before. March 11, 1860
March 12. The whistling of the wind, which makes one melancholy, inspires another. March 12, 1852
March 12. Now you walk in a comparative lull, anticipating fair weather, with but a slight drizzling, and anon the wind blows and the rain drives down harder than ever. March 12, 1859
March 12. Sleet, turning soon to considerable rain, - a rainy day. Thermometer about 40, yet it seems a warm rain to walk in, it being still, while yesterday, of the same temperature, with that raw northwest wind, was cold and blustering. It is the wind of March that makes it unpleasant often, and to seem much colder than it is. March 12, 1860
March 13. This month has been windy and cold, a succession of snows one or two inches deep, soon going off, the spring birds all driven off. It is in strong contrast with the last month. March 13, 1857
March 14. High winds, growing colder and colder, ground stiffening again. My ears have not been colder the past winter . . . March is rightly famous for its winds. March 14, 1853
March 15. To-day the weather is severely and remarkably cold . . . I have not taken a more blustering walk this past winter than this afternoon . . . The coldness of the air blown from the icy northwest prevails over the heat of the sun. March 15, 1853
March 16. Launch my boat and sail to Ball's Hill. It is fine clear weather and a strong northwest wind. What a change since yesterday!. . .After a day of soaking rain, concluded with a double rainbow the evening before, — not to mention the rain of the evening, — go out into the sparkling spring air, embark on the flood of melted snow and of rain gathered from all hillsides, with a northwest wind in which you often find it hard to stand up straight March 16, 1859
March 17. A remarkably warm and pleasant day with a south or southwest wind, but still very bad walking, the frost coming out and the snow that was left going off. The air is full of bluebirds March 17,1858
March 17. How different to-day from yesterday! Yesterday was a cool, bright day, the earth just washed bare by the rain, and a strong northwest wind raised respectable billows on our vernal seas and imparted remarkable life and spirit to the scene. To-day it is perfectly still and warm. Not a ripple disturbs the surface of these lakes, but every insect, every small black beetle struggling on it, is betrayed . . . As I float by the Rock, I hear rustling amid the oak leaves above that new water-line, and, there being no wind, I know it to be a striped squirrel, and soon see its long-unseen striped sides . . . a punctuation-mark, the character to indicate where a new paragraph commences in the revolution of the seasons. March 17, 1859
March 18. Very high wind this forenoon; began by filling the air with a cloud of dust. Never felt it shake the house so much; filled the house with dust through the cracks; books, stove, papers covered with it. Blew down Mr. Frost's chimney again.Took up my boat, a very heavy one, which was lying on its bottom in the yard, and carried it two rods . . . The white caps of the waves on the flooded meadow, seen from the window, are a rare and exciting spectacle, — such an angry face as our Concord meadows rarely exhibit . . .Elms bending and twisting and thrashing the air as if they would come down every moment . . . It is very cold and freezing, this wind. The water has been blown quite across the Hubbard's Bridge causeway in some places and incrusted the road with ice. March 18, 1854
March 13. This month has been windy and cold, a succession of snows one or two inches deep, soon going off, the spring birds all driven off. It is in strong contrast with the last month. March 13, 1857
March 14. High winds, growing colder and colder, ground stiffening again. My ears have not been colder the past winter . . . March is rightly famous for its winds. March 14, 1853
March 15. To-day the weather is severely and remarkably cold . . . I have not taken a more blustering walk this past winter than this afternoon . . . The coldness of the air blown from the icy northwest prevails over the heat of the sun. March 15, 1853
March 16. Launch my boat and sail to Ball's Hill. It is fine clear weather and a strong northwest wind. What a change since yesterday!. . .After a day of soaking rain, concluded with a double rainbow the evening before, — not to mention the rain of the evening, — go out into the sparkling spring air, embark on the flood of melted snow and of rain gathered from all hillsides, with a northwest wind in which you often find it hard to stand up straight March 16, 1859
March 17. A remarkably warm and pleasant day with a south or southwest wind, but still very bad walking, the frost coming out and the snow that was left going off. The air is full of bluebirds March 17,1858
March 17. How different to-day from yesterday! Yesterday was a cool, bright day, the earth just washed bare by the rain, and a strong northwest wind raised respectable billows on our vernal seas and imparted remarkable life and spirit to the scene. To-day it is perfectly still and warm. Not a ripple disturbs the surface of these lakes, but every insect, every small black beetle struggling on it, is betrayed . . . As I float by the Rock, I hear rustling amid the oak leaves above that new water-line, and, there being no wind, I know it to be a striped squirrel, and soon see its long-unseen striped sides . . . a punctuation-mark, the character to indicate where a new paragraph commences in the revolution of the seasons. March 17, 1859
March 18. Very high wind this forenoon; began by filling the air with a cloud of dust. Never felt it shake the house so much; filled the house with dust through the cracks; books, stove, papers covered with it. Blew down Mr. Frost's chimney again.Took up my boat, a very heavy one, which was lying on its bottom in the yard, and carried it two rods . . . The white caps of the waves on the flooded meadow, seen from the window, are a rare and exciting spectacle, — such an angry face as our Concord meadows rarely exhibit . . .Elms bending and twisting and thrashing the air as if they would come down every moment . . . It is very cold and freezing, this wind. The water has been blown quite across the Hubbard's Bridge causeway in some places and incrusted the road with ice. March 18, 1854
March 18. Fair in the forenoon, but more or less cloudy and windy in the afternoon. March 18, 1855
March 18. The rather warm but strong wind now roars in the wood — as in the maple swamp — with a novel sound. I doubt if the same is ever heard in the winter. It apparently comes at this season, not only to dry the earth but to wake up the trees. March 18, 1858
March 18. The undulating river is a bright-blue channel between sharp-edged shores of ice retained by the willows. The wind blows strong but warm from west by north, so that I have to hold my paper tight when I write this, making the copses creak and roar; but the sharp tinkle of a song sparrow is heard through it all. March 18, 1858
March 18. What a variety of weather! What a difference in the days! Three days ago, the 15th, we had steady rain with a southerly wind, with a clear interval and a brilliant double rainbow at sunset,. . . The next day it was clear and cool, with a strong northwest wind, and the flood still higher on the meadows; the dry russet earth and leather-colored oak reflected a flashing light from far; the tossing blue waves with white crests excited the beholder and the sailer. . . . Yesterday it was very warm, without perceptible wind, with a comparatively lifeless [air], . . .with no flashing surfaces, . . . To-day comes a still, steady rain again, with warm weather and a southerly wind, March 18, 1859
March 19. Cold and windy. March 19, 1854
March 19. The wind has got round more to the east now, at 5 P.M., and is raw and disagreeable, and produces a bluish haze or mist at once in the air. It is early for such a phenomenon. March 19, 1855
March 19. I hear turkeys gobble. This too, I suppose, is a spring sound. I hear a steady sigh of the wind, rising and swelling into a roar, in the pines, which seems to tell of a long, warm rain to come. March 19, 1858
March 19. The wind blows very strongly from the southwest . . . On the northeast sides of the broadest expanses the waves run very high, quite sea-like, and their tumult is exciting both to see and to hear. . . . It blows so hard that you walk aslant against the wind. Your very beard, if you wear a full one, is a serious cause of detention. . . . The meadows are all in commotion . . .The wind makes such a din about your ears that conversation is difficult; your words are blown away and do not strike the ear they were aimed at. If you walk by the water, the tumult of the waves confuses you. If you go by a tree or enter the woods, the din is yet greater. Nevertheless this universal commotion is very interesting and exciting . . . Is not this wind an awaking to life and light [of] the pines after their winter slumber? . . . As if in this wind-storm of March a certain electricity was passing from heaven to earth through the pines and calling them to life. March 19, 1859
March 18. The rather warm but strong wind now roars in the wood — as in the maple swamp — with a novel sound. I doubt if the same is ever heard in the winter. It apparently comes at this season, not only to dry the earth but to wake up the trees. March 18, 1858
March 18. The undulating river is a bright-blue channel between sharp-edged shores of ice retained by the willows. The wind blows strong but warm from west by north, so that I have to hold my paper tight when I write this, making the copses creak and roar; but the sharp tinkle of a song sparrow is heard through it all. March 18, 1858
March 18. What a variety of weather! What a difference in the days! Three days ago, the 15th, we had steady rain with a southerly wind, with a clear interval and a brilliant double rainbow at sunset,. . . The next day it was clear and cool, with a strong northwest wind, and the flood still higher on the meadows; the dry russet earth and leather-colored oak reflected a flashing light from far; the tossing blue waves with white crests excited the beholder and the sailer. . . . Yesterday it was very warm, without perceptible wind, with a comparatively lifeless [air], . . .with no flashing surfaces, . . . To-day comes a still, steady rain again, with warm weather and a southerly wind, March 18, 1859
March 19. Cold and windy. March 19, 1854
March 19. The wind has got round more to the east now, at 5 P.M., and is raw and disagreeable, and produces a bluish haze or mist at once in the air. It is early for such a phenomenon. March 19, 1855
March 19. I hear turkeys gobble. This too, I suppose, is a spring sound. I hear a steady sigh of the wind, rising and swelling into a roar, in the pines, which seems to tell of a long, warm rain to come. March 19, 1858
March 19. The wind blows very strongly from the southwest . . . On the northeast sides of the broadest expanses the waves run very high, quite sea-like, and their tumult is exciting both to see and to hear. . . . It blows so hard that you walk aslant against the wind. Your very beard, if you wear a full one, is a serious cause of detention. . . . The meadows are all in commotion . . .The wind makes such a din about your ears that conversation is difficult; your words are blown away and do not strike the ear they were aimed at. If you walk by the water, the tumult of the waves confuses you. If you go by a tree or enter the woods, the din is yet greater. Nevertheless this universal commotion is very interesting and exciting . . . Is not this wind an awaking to life and light [of] the pines after their winter slumber? . . . As if in this wind-storm of March a certain electricity was passing from heaven to earth through the pines and calling them to life. March 19, 1859
March 20 . Walden is melting apace . . . The wind blows eastward over the opaque ice in vain till it slides on to the living water surface where it raises a myriad brilliant sparkles on the bare face of the pond, an expression of glee, of youth, of spring, as if it spoke the joy of the fishes within it and of the sands on its shore. It is the contrast between life and death. There is the difference between winter and spring. The bared face of the pond sparkles with joy. March 20, 1853
March 20 . It soon clears off and proves a fair but windy day. I notice havoc along the stream on making my first voyages on it. At my landing I hear the F. hyemalis, in company with a few tree sparrows. They take refuge from the cold wind, half a dozen in all, behind an arbor-vitae hedge, and their plume themselves with puffed-up feathers. March 20, 1855
March 20. Very strong northwest wind . . . I see under the east side of the house amid the evergreens, where they were sheltered from the cold northwest wind, quite a parcel of sparrows, chiefly F. hyemalis, two or three tree sparrows, and one song sparrow, quietly feeding together. I watch them through a window within six or eight feet. They evidently love to be sheltered from the wind.. March 20, 1859
March 20 . A foggy morning; turns to some April-like rain, after east wind of yesterday. March 20, 1860
March 21. It is a genial and reassuring day; the mere warmth of the west wind amounts almost to balminess. March 21, 1853
March 21. Clear, but a very cold westerly wind this morning. March 21, 1855
March 21. Sail to Fair Haven Pond. A strong northwest wind. March 21, 1859
March 21. From the evening of March 18th to this, the evening of the 21st, we have had uninterrupted strong wind, — till the evening of the 19th very strong south west wind, then and since northwest, — three days of strong wind. March 21, 1859
March 22. Launch my boat and row downstream. There is a strong and cool northwest wind. March 22, 1858
March 22. The wind changes to easterly and is more raw, i. e. cool and moist, and the air thickens as if it would rain. March 22, 1859
March 22. The phenomena of an average March are increasing warmth, melting the snow and ice and, gradually, the frost in the ground; cold and blustering weather, with high, commonly northwest winds for many days together. March 22, 1860
*****
A cold and strong wind
yet very warm in the sun –
a fly on this rock.
March 4, 1855
See also Signs of the Spring:
- A Change in the Air
- A Sunny Nook in Spring
- Alder and Willow Catkins Expanding
- Braided Ripples of Melting Snow Shine in the Ruts
- Bright Blue Water
- Buzzing Flies
- Ducks Afar, Sailing on the Meadow
- First silvery sheen from needles of the white pine waving in the wind
- Frogs, and Turtles Stirring
- Geese Overhead
- Greening Grasses and Sedges
- I begin to think that my wood will last.
- Insects and Worms Come Forth and are Active
- Listening for the Bluebird
- March is famous for its Winds
- Mosses Bright Green
- My Greatcoat on my Arm
- Perla-like Insects Appear
- Red Maple Sap Flows
- Ripples made by Fishes
- Skunks Active
- The Anxious Peep of the Early Robin
- The Crowing of Cocks, the Cawing of crows
- The Days have grown Sensibly Longer
- The Eaves Begin to Run
- The Gobbling of Turkeys
- The Grackle Arrives
- The Hawks of March
- The New Warmth of the Sun
- The Note of the Dark-eyed Junco Going Northward
- The Red-Wing Arrives
- The Skunk Cabbage Blooms
- The Softened Air of these Warm February Days
- The Song Sparrow Sings
- The Spring Note of the Chickadee
- The Spring Note of the Nuthatch
- The Striped Squirrel Comes Out
- The Water Bug (Gyrinus)
- The Woodchuck Ventures Out
- Walking without Gloves
- Woodpeckers Tapping
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau,
Signs of the Spring, March is famous for its winds
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
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