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
I hear the partridge
and the spring hoot of an owl
now at 7 a.m.
Hear a partridge drum
also golden-crested wren
before 6 A. M.,
April 27, 1855
True April morning –
east wind the sky overcast
with wet-looking clouds.
April 27, 1857
You smell the dry leaves
and hear the pine warbler and
the hum of insects . . .
There is a certain
summeriness in the air
under this warm cliff.
April 27, 2021
Through a warm mistiness I see the waters with their reflections in the morning sun, — I hear the beat of a partridge and the spring hoot of an owl, now at 7 a.m. April 27, 1854
An unprofaned hour
waters with their reflections
in the morning sun
Few birds are heard this cold and windy morning. Hear a partridge drum before 6 A. M., also a golden-crested wren. April 27, 1855
Quite warm to-day. In the afternoon the wind changed to east, and apparently the cool air from the sea condensed the vapor in our atmosphere, making us think it would rain every moment; but it did not till midnight. April 27, 1854
There is a certain summeriness in the air now, especially under a warm cliff like this, where you smell the very dry leaves, and hear the pine warbler and the hum of insects and see considerable growth and greenness. April 27, 1860
I see a rather large devil’s-needle coursing over the low osiers in Pinxter Swamp. Is it not early for one? April 27, 1856
Snows hard in afternoon and evening. Quite wintry. About an inch on ground the next morning. April 27, 1858
It has been so cold since the 23d that I have not been able to catch a single frog April 27, 1858
Apparently a small bullfrog by riverside, though it looks somewhat like a Rana fontinalis. April 27, 1856
This is a place to look for early blossoms of the saxifrage, columbine, and plantain-leaved everlasting, -- the first two especially. The crevices of the rock (cliff) make natural hothouses for them, affording dryness, warmth, and shelter. April 27, 1852
I find none of Monroe’s larch buds shedding pollen, but the anthers look crimson and yellow, and the female flowers are now fully expanded and very pretty, but small. I think it will first scatter pollen to-morrow. April 27, 1856
The wood thrush afar, — so superior a strain to that of other birds. I was doubting if it would affect me as of yore, but it did measurably. I did not believe there could be such differences. This is the gospel according to the wood thrush. He makes a sabbath out of a week-day. I could go to hear him, could buy a pew in his church. April 27, 1854
Frogs appear to love warm and moist weather, rainy or cloudy. They will sit thickly along the shore, apparently small bullfrogs, etc., R. palustris. April 27, 1858
Two or three (apparently) R. palustris in that well of Monroe’s, which have jumped in over the curb, perhaps. April 27, 1856
The newly laid spawn at the cold pool on Hubbard's land was all gone. April 27, 1858
I see quite a number of tortoises out sunning, just on the edge of the Hosmer meadow, which is rapidly becoming bare. Their backs shine from afar in the sun. Also one Emys insculpta out higher up. April 27, 1856
Observed the spotted tortoise in the water of the meadow on J. Hosmer's land, by riverside. Bright-yellow spots on both shell and head, yet not regularly disposed, but as if, when they were finished in other respects, the maker had sprinkled them with a brush. This fact, that the yellow spots are common to the shell and the head, affected me considerably, as evincing the action of an artist from without; spotted with reference to my eyes. One, I suppose the male, was larger than the other, with a depressed and lighter-colored sternum. April 27, 1852
This is a place to look for early blossoms of the saxifrage, columbine, and plantain-leaved everlasting, -- the first two especially. The crevices of the rock (cliff) make natural hothouses for them, affording dryness, warmth, and shelter. April 27, 1852
April 27, 2024
On Conantum Cliffs, whose seams dip to the northwest at an angle of 50° and run northeast and southwest, I find to-day for the first time the early saxifrage (Saxifraga vernalis) in blossom, growing high and dry in the narrow seams, where there is no soil for it but a little green moss. Following thus early after the bare rock, it is one of the first flowers, not only in the spring of the year, but in the spring of the world. It can take advantage of a perpendicular cliff where the snow cannot lie and fronting the south. April 27, 1852
The half-open buds of the saxifrage, showing the white of the petals in a corymb or cyme, on a short stem, surrounded by its new leaves mingled with the purplish tips of the calyx-leaves, is handsomer than when it is fully expanded. April 27, 1852
In exactly the same places grows the columbine, now well budded and seven or eight inches high. The higher up the rock and the more sheltered and sunny the location, the earlier they are. April 27, 1852
Thalictrum anemonoides are abundant, maybe two or three days, at Blackberry Steep. April 27, 1860
Also the first plantain-leaved everlasting (Gray's Antennaria plantaginifolia) is in blossom in a sheltered place in the grass at the top of the rock. April 27, 1852
The meadow-sweet and sweet-fern are beginning to leaf, and the currant in garden. April 27, 1854
The Salix alba begins to leaf, and the catkins are three quarters of an inch long. April 27, 1854
The earliest willow by railroad begins to leaf and is out of bloom. April 27, 1855
Cultivated cherry is beginning to leaf. April 27, 1855
I find none of Monroe’s larch buds shedding pollen, but the anthers look crimson and yellow, and the female flowers are now fully expanded and very pretty, but small. I think it will first scatter pollen to-morrow. April 27, 1856
The wood thrush afar, — so superior a strain to that of other birds. I was doubting if it would affect me as of yore, but it did measurably. I did not believe there could be such differences. This is the gospel according to the wood thrush. He makes a sabbath out of a week-day. I could go to hear him, could buy a pew in his church. April 27, 1854
What a shy fellow my hermit thrush! April 27, 1854
I hear the sweet warble of a tree sparrow in the yard. April 27, 1855
Walk along Swampscott Beach from Red Rock northeast . . . Hear and see the seringo in fields next the shore. No noticeable yellow shoulder, pure whitish beneath, dashed throat and a dark-brown line of dashes along the sides of the body. April 27, 1859
The yellow redpolls still numerous; sing chill lill lill lill lill lill. April 27, 1854
I hear the black and white creeper's note, — seeser seeser seeser se.
. . . Hear a faint sort of oven-bird's note. April 27, 1854
The black and white creepers running over the trunks or main limbs of red maples and uttering their fainter oven-bird—like notes. April 27, 1855
Heard also a chipping sparrow (F. socialis). April 27, 1852
I hear the prolonged che che che che che, etc., of the chip-bird. April 27, 1857
Heard the field or rush sparrow this morning (Fringilla juncorum), George Minott's "huckleberry-bird." It sits on a birch and sings at short intervals, apparently answered from a distance. It is clear and sonorous heard afar; but I found it quite impossible to tell from which side it came; sounding like phe, phe, phe, pher-pher-tw-tw-tw-t-t-t-t, — the first three slow and loud, the next two syllables quicker, and the last part quicker and quicker, becoming a clear, sonorous trill or rattle, like a spoon in a saucer. April 27, 1852
The tapping of a woodpecker is made a more remarkable and emphatic sound by the hollowness of the trunk, the expanse of water which conducts the sound, and the morning hour at which I commonly hear it. I think that the pigeon woodpeckers must be building, they frequent the old aspen now so much. . April 27, 1856
I saw yesterday, and see to-day, a small hawk which I take to be a pigeon hawk. This one skims low along over Grindstone Meadow, close to the edge of the water, and I see the blackbirds rise hurriedly from the buttonbushes and willows before him. April 27, 1860
Though it is still windy, there is, nevertheless, a certain serenity and long-lifeness in the air, as if it were a habitable place and not merely to be hurried through.
The hurry of the duck migration is, methinks, over. April 27, 1860
At the Hemlocks I see a rock which has been moved since last fall seven or eight feet into the river, though the ground is but little descending. The rock is about five and a half feet by three by one. April 27, 1856
The noon of the year is approaching. Nature seems meditating a siesta. April 27, 1860
April 27, 2021
*****
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, At the Leaning Hemlocks
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Saxifrage in Spring (Saxifraga vernalis)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Earliest Flower
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Devil's-needle
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Bullfrog in Spring
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Voice of the Barred Owl
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Chipping Sparrow (F. socialis)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Field Sparrow (F juncorum)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Savannah Sparrow (F savanna)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Partridge
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The ruby-crowned or crested wren
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Yellow Redpoll ( Palm) Warbler
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Pine Warbler
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Black and White Creeper
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Pigeon Hawk (Merlin)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Pigeon Woodpecker (flicker)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Signs of Spring, the tapping of the woodpecker
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Early Spring: The Arrival of the Hermit Thrush
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the American Black Duck
*****
December 25, 1859 ("I hear a sharp fine screep from some bird,. . . I can see a brilliant crown. . . . It is evidently the golden-crested wren, which I have not made out before.”)
March 15, 1854 ("I hear that peculiar, interesting loud hollow tapping of a woodpecker from over the water")
March 24, 1855 ("Passing up the Assabet, by the Hemlocks, where there has been a slide and some rocks have slid down into the river, I think I see how rocks come to be found in the midst of rivers. . . .")
March 29, 1853 ("On approaching the Island, I am surprised to hear the scolding, cackle-like note of the pigeon woodpecker, a prolonged loud sound somewhat like one note of the robin. This was the tapper, on the old hollow aspen which the small woodpeckers so much frequent. Unless the latter make exactly the same sound with the former, then the pigeon woodpecker has come!! ")
March 30, 1854 ("At the Island I see and hear this morning the cackle of a pigeon woodpecker at the hollow poplar; had heard him tapping distinctly from my boat's place, 1/4+ of a mile")
April 9, 1853 (" Beyond the desert, hear the hooting owl, which, as formerly, I at first mistook for the hounding of a dog,-a squealing eee followed by hoo hoo hoo deliberately, and particularly sonorous and ringing. This at 2 P.M.
April 9, 1856 ("Wandering over that high huckleberry pasture, I hear the sweet jingle of the Fringilla juncorum.")
April 10, 1855 ("As for the saxifrage, when I had given it up for to-day, having, after a long search in the warmest clefts and recesses, found only three or four buds which showed some white, I at length, on a still warmer shelf, found one flower partly expanded, and its common peduncle had shot up an inch. ")
April 12, 1855 (“ I hear it fell fourteen or fifteen inches deep in Vermont.”)
April 12, 1858 ("Hear the huckleberry-bird and, I think, the Fringilla socialis”)
April 12, 1858("The woods are all alive with pine warblers now. Their note is the music to which I survey.")
April 13, 1852 ("Snowed all day, till the ground was covered eight inches deep.")
April 14, 1856 ("Hear the flicker’s cackle on the old aspen, and his tapping sounds afar over the water. Their tapping resounds thus far, with this peculiar ring and distinctness, because it is a hollow tree they select to play on, as a drum or tambour. It is a hollow sound which rings distinct to a great distance, especially over water.").
April 15, 1854 ("Snow and snowing; four inches deep.")
April 15, 1856 ("I hear the note of the Fringilla juncorum (huckleberry-bird) from the plains beyond.")
April 15, 1859 ("The warm pine woods are all alive this afternoon with the jingle of the pine warbler, the for the most part invisible minstrel. . . . This is a peculiarly summer-like sound. Go to a warm pine wood-side on a pleasant day at this season after storm, and hear it ring with the jingle of the pine warbler.")
April 16, 1855 ("What I call a pigeon hawk, probably sharp-shinned.")
April 17, 1860 ("I hear this forenoon the soothing and simple, though monotonous, notes of the chip-bird, telling us better than our thermometers what degree of summer warmth is reached; adds its humble but very pleasant contribution to the steadily increasing quire of the spring.")
April 18, 1857 ("Hear the huckleberry-bird, also the seringo.")
April 18, 1858 ("I doubt if I have seen a bullfrog yet.")
April 19, 1854 (“This is the fifth day that the ground has been covered with snow.”);
April 21, 1857 ("It snows hard all day. If it did not melt so fast, would be a foot deep.")
April 22, 1857 (“Near Tall's Island, rescue a little pale or yellowish brown snake that was coiled round a willow half a dozen rods from the shore and was apparently chilled by the cold. Was it not Storer's "little brown snake?”);
April 22, 1858 (“The spawn of April 18th is gone! It was fresh there and apparently some creature has eaten it.”)
April 22, 1861 ("I hear a chip-bird")
April 23, 1858 (" I see the large head apparently of a bullfrog, by the riverside")
April 23, 1859 ("The field sparrow sings in our yard in the rain")
April 26, 1854 ("Saw probably a pigeon hawk skim straight and low over field and wood, and another the next day apparently dark slate-color.")
April 24, 1856 ("Returning, in the low wood just this side the first Second Division Brook, near the meadow, see a brown bird flit, and behold my hermit thrush, with one companion, flitting silently through the birches. I saw the fox-color on his tail-coverts, as well as the brown streaks on the breast. Both kept up a constant jerking of the tail as they sat on their perches")
April 24, 1858 (“This shows how sensitive they are to changes of temperature. Hardly one puts its head out of the water, if ever he creeps out the grassy or muddy bottom this cold day.”)
April 26, 1860 {“ A man came from Lincoln last night with an inch of snow on the wheels of his carriage”)
April 26, 1860 ("Hear the ruby-crowned wren in the morning, near George Heywood’s")
.
April 28, 1856 (" I hear to-day frequently the seezer seezer seezer of the black and white creeper . . . It is not a note, nor a bird, to attract attention; only suggesting still warmer weather, —that the season has revolved so much further")
April 29, 1852 ("Observe two thrushes arrived that I do not know. Discover a hawk over my head by his shadow on the ground.")
April 29, 1858 ("Noticed a man killing, on the sidewalk by Minott's, a little brown snake with blackish marks along each side of back and a pink belly. Was it not the Coluber amaenus?”)
April 29, 1858 (" I heard yesterday at Ledum Swamp the lively, sweet, yet somewhat whimsical note of the ruby crowned wren, and had sight of him a moment. Did I not hear it there the 10th? ")
April 30, 1855 ("Crowfoot and saxifrage are now in prime at Lee’s; they yellow and whiten the ground.")
April 30, 1855 ("The early willow by Hubbard’s Bridge has not begun to leaf. This would make it a different species from that by railroad, which has.")
April 29, 1859 (" See and hear a black and white creeper.")
April 30, 1852 ("The huckleberry-bird sings")
May 1, 1852("The tinkle of the huckleberry-bird comes up from the shrub oak plain.")
May 1, 1852 ("Leaving the woods I hear the hooting of an owl, which sounds very much like a clown calling to his team.")
May 1, 1858 (“I find many apparent young bullfrogs in the shaded pools on the Island Neck. Probably R. fontinalis.”)
May 2, 1858 ("I doubt if I have heard any sound from a bullfrog in river yet.")
May 3, 1852. ("That oven-birdish note which I heard here on May 1st I now find to have been uttered by the black and white warbler or creeper. He has a habit of looking under the branches.")
May 3, 1857 ("The pine warbler is perhaps the commonest bird heard now from the wood-sides. It seems left [to] it almost alone to fill their empty aisles.")
May 7, 1853 ("I hear the loud cackling of the flicker about the aspen at the rock")
May 7, 1854 ("A ruby-crested wren. . .Saw its ruby crest and heard its harsh note. (This was the same I have called golden-crowned . . . except that I saw its ruby crest.. ..Have I seen the two?)”)
May 10, 1853 ("New days, then, have come, ushered in by the warbling vireo, yellowbird, Maryland yellow-throat, and small pewee, and now made perfect by the twittering of the kingbird and the whistle of the oriole amid the elms")
May 10, 1858 ("At length, near Ball's Hill, I hear the first regular bullfrog's trump")
May 25, 1852 ("I hear the first troonk of a bullfrog.")
June 24, 1857 ("Heard a fine, clear note from a bird on a white birch near me, — whit whit, whit whit, whit whit, (very fast) ter phe phe phe, — sounding perfectly novel. Looking round, I saw it was the huckleberry-bird")
October 18, 1858 (“Noticed a little snake, eight or nine inches long, in the rut in the road in the Lincoln woods. It was brown above with a paler-brown dorsal stripe, which was bounded on each side by a row of dark-brown or blackish dots one eighth inch apart, the opposite rows alternating; beneath, light cream-color or yellowish white. Evidently Storer’s Coluber ordinatus. It ran along in the deep sandy rut and would probably be run over there.”)
October 29, 1857 (“I see evidently what Storer calls the little brown snake (Coluber ordinatus). . . . Above it is pale-brown, with a still lighter brown stripe running down the middle of the back”)
April 27, 2019
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, April 27
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/HDT27April
No comments:
Post a Comment