Three steps into the swamp barelegged.

June 9. 

June 9, 2017

A large fog. 

Celastrus scandens, maybe a day. 

Triosteum, apparently several days (not at all June 1st). 

Both kinds of sap, yellow birch and black, are now, in some bottles, quite aromatic and alike; but this year, methinks, it has a more swampy taste and musty, and most of the bottles are merely sour. 

P. M. — To Violet Sorrel and Calla Swamp. 

A peetweet's nest near wall by Shattuck's barn, Merrick's pasture, at base of a dock; four eggs just on the point of being hatched. A regular nest of weak stubble set in ground. 

In the sprout-land beyond the red huckleberry, an indigo-bird, which chips about me as if it had a nest there. This is a splendid and marked bird, high-colored as is the tanager, looking strange in this latitude. Glowing indigo. It flits from top of one bush to another, chirping as if anxious. Wilson says it sings, not like most other birds in the morning and evening chiefly, but also in the middle of the day. In this I notice it is like the tanager, the other fiery-plumaged bird. They seem to love the heat. It probably had its nest in one of those bushes. 

The calla is generally past prime and going to seed. I had said to Pratt, "It will be worth the while to look for other rare plants in Calla Swamp, for I have observed that where one rare plant grows there will commonly be others." Carrying out this design, this afternoon, I had not taken three steps into the swamp barelegged before I found the Naumbergia thyrsiflora in sphagnum and water, which I had not seen growing before. (Channing brought one to me from Hubbard's Great Meadow once.) It is hardly beginning yet. (In prime June 24th. Vide June 24th.)

The water in this Calla Swamp feels cold to my feet, and perhaps this is a peculiarity of it; on the north side a hill. 

When I was at the yellow-throat's nest (as above) I heard that very loud sharp pheet pheet of a wood- chuck (?) or rabbit which I have often heard before. 

The hellebore was very much eaten off about the wall whence it proceeded. It was kept up from time to time while I stayed.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, June 9, 1857

June 9, 2017

I had not taken three steps into the swamp barelegged . . . See August 30, 1856 (“I left my shoes and stockings on the bank far off and waded barelegged through rigid andromeda.and other bushes a long way, to the soft open sphagnous centre of the swamp. ”)

Both kinds of sap, yellow birch and black, are now, in some bottles, quite aromatic and alike; but this year, methinks, it has a more swampy taste . . . See  April 16, 1857 ("Get birch sap, — two bottles yellow birch and five of black birch"). Also see April 12, 1856 ("According to Rees’s Cyclopaedia, the sap of the birches is fermentable in its natural state.");   April 11, 1856 ("I have now got four kinds of birch sap. . . .I do not think I could distinguish the different kinds of birch with my eyes shut. I drank some of the black birch wine with my dinner for the name of it; but, as a steady drink, it is only to be recommended to outdoor men and foresters. ");  May 27, 1856 ("My three kinds of birch sap have now become more acid, especially the white and canoe birch. The black birch is milder and more agreeable. With sugar it is an agreeable drink. . . ."); June 21, 1856 ("My canoe birch wine smells and tastes like mead considerably. All my birch wines are now more acid and very good indeed with sugar. Am surprised to see it effervesce, all white with white sugar only, like a soda water."); July 26, 1856 ( "Drank up the last of my birch wine. It is an exceedingly grateful drink now, especially the aromatic, mead like, apparently checkerberry-flavored one, which on the whole I think must be the black birch. It is a surprisingly high-flavored drink, thus easily obtained, and considering that it had so little taste at first. Perhaps it would have continued to improve.")

June 9. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, June 9

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 © 2009-2021

Arranged the hypericums in bottles this morning and watched their opening. The pod of the ellipticum, when cut, smells like a bee.

Pale St. John's-wort
Hypericum ellipticum

July 26.  

Saturday. 5 a.m. — Up Assabet. 

The sun's disk is seen round and red for a long distance above the horizon, through the thick but cloudless atmosphere, threatening heat, — hot, dry weather. 

At five the lilies had not opened, but began about 5.15 and were abundantly out at six. 

Arranged the hypericums in bottles this morning and watched their opening. 

The H. angulosum (?) has a pod one-celled (with three parietal placentae), conical, oblong, acute, at length longer than the sepals, purple. (The Canadense has from three to five (!) placentae and the mutilum three to four (!), as I find, notwithstanding Gray.) Styles three, short, distinct, and spreading; stamens twenty, more or less, obscurely clustered. Petals oblong. (Do not see the single lateral tooth mentioned by Eaton.) Corolla twelve to fourteen fortieths of an inch in diameter.

It is strict, slender, ten to twenty inches high; stem sharply four-angled, like Canadense, and cyme as naked or more so. The large ones make a singularly compact (flat-topped) corymb, of many narrow pods at last. Leaves oblong-lanceolate or linear-lanceolate, commonly blunt, but often gradually tapering and acute, broadest near the base and clasping, one to one and a half inches long by one eighth to three eighths wide, black-dotted beneath. Ground neither very dry nor very moist. 

It differs from Canadense, which it resembles, in being a larger plant every way, narrower in proportion to height, having more stamens, and in the form of its leaves.

Corolla of mutilum nine to eleven fortieths of an inch in diameter; Canadense, twelve to thirteen fortieths; corymbosum eighteen fortieths.

The corymbosum in chamber shut up at night. All but Sarothra, which may not be advanced enough, (I have no elodea), opened by 5 a. m., corymbosum and angulosum very fairly; but mutilum, Canadense, and angulosum curled and shut up by 9 a. m. !! 

The corymbosum shut up in afternoon. The perforatum and ellipticum alone were open all day. The four lesser ones are very shy to open and remain open very little while, this weather at least. I suspect that in the fields, also, they are open only very early or on cloudy days. 
H. Canadense and mutilum are often fifteen inches high. 

The largest and most conspicuous purple pods are those of the ellipticum. Those of the angulosum and Canadense are smaller and more pointed; are also purple, and the mutilum perhaps duller purple and less conspicuous. 

The pod of the ellipticum, when cut, smells like a bee. The united styles arm it like a beak or spine. This appears to be the most nearly out of bloom of all. I am surprised that Gray says it is somewhat four-angled. It is distinctly two-angled and round between. 

The Hubbard aster may be the A. Tradescanti. 

The large potamogeton off Dodd's seems to be the natans, from size of nutlets, etc. Then there is the second, off Clamshell, a long time out. And the third, heterophyllus (?), or what I have called hybridus, also long out. 

Drank up the last of my birch wine. It is an exceedingly grateful drink now, especially the aromatic, mead like, apparently checkerberry-flavored one, which on the whole I think must be the black birch. It is a surprisingly high-flavored drink, thus easily obtained, and considering that it had so little taste at first. Perhaps it would have continued to improve.

P. M. — To Poorhouse Pasture. 

Nettle, some time. Ambrosia botrys, apparently a few days. A. Radula, ditch by pasture, several days apparently. Lycopus sinuatus, some time. 

I see young larks fly pretty well before me. 

Smaller bur-reed (Sparganium Americanum), judging from form of stigma (ovate and oblique), yet the leaves are almost entirely concave (!), Stow's ditch. Is this the same with that in river? How long? 

It is very still and sultry this afternoon, at 6 p. m. even. I cannot even sit down in the pasture for want of air, but must keep up and moving, else I should suffocate. Thermometer ninety-seven and ninety-eight to-day. The pig pants and melts in his pen, and water must be cast on him.

Agassiz says he has discovered that the haddock, a deep-sea fish, is viviparous.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 26, 1856

Arranged the hypericums in bottles this morning. See July 25, 1856 ("Up river to see hypericums out.") See also A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, St. Johns-wort (Hypericum)

The pod of the ellipticum, when cut, smells like a bee. See August 19, 1856 ("The small hypericums have a peculiar smart, somewhat lemon-like fragrance, but bee-like."); August 30, 1856 ("Bruised, [sarothra] has the fragrance of sorrel and lemon, rather pungent or stinging, like a bee."); See also June 13, 1858 ("The ledum . . . has a rather agreeable fragrance, between turpentine and strawberries. It is rather strong and penetrating, and some times reminds me of the peculiar scent of a bee. The young leaves, bruised and touched to the nose, even make it smart"); October 16, 1859 (“The ledum smells like a bee, — that peculiar scent they have. C, too, perceives it.”) and also June 21, 1852 ("The adder's-tongue arethusa smells exactly like a snake.")

July 26. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, July 26

From GoBotany: 

Family

Hypericaceae (st. john’s-wort family)

The latin name Hypericum derives from ancient Greek hyper, meaning 'above' and eikon meaning 'picture'. This refers to the traditional practice of placing flowers above an image in the house to ward off evil spirits at the midsummer festival that later became the Feast of St. John, thus the common name.

This Genus’s Species in New England:

• Hypericum adpressum
• Hypericum ascyron
• Hypericum boreale
• Hypericum canadense
• Hypericum densiflorum
• Hypericum dolabriforme
• Hypericum ellipticum
• Hypericum frondosum
• Hypericum gentianoides
• Hypericum majus
• Hypericum mutilum
• Hypericum perforatum
• Hypericum prolificum
• Hypericum punctatum
• Hypericum stragulum

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 © 2009-2021

Pine pollen washed up on the northwest side of Walden Pond

June 21.

June 21, 2016
White Pine

P. M. — To Walden. 

Much pine pollen is washed up on the northwest side of the pond. Must it not have come from pines at a distance? 

Very hot day, as was yesterday, -— 98° at 2 P. M., 99° at 3, and 128° in sun. 

Nighthawks numerously squeak at 5 P. M. and boom. See them fly low and touch the water like swallows over Walden. 

Find a dozen of the hydropeltis out, apparently several days. 

My canoe birch wine smells and tastes like mead considerably. All my birch wines are now more acid and very good indeed with sugar. Am surprised to see it effervesce, all white with white sugar only, like a soda water.


H. D. Thoreau, Journal, June 21, 1856



Much pine pollen is washed up on the northwest side of the pond. Must it not have come from pines at a distance? See June 21, 1850 ("The flowers of the white pine are now in their prime, but I see none of their pollen on the pond."); June 21, 1860 ("Having noticed the pine pollen washed up on the shore of three or four ponds in the woods lately and at Ripple Lake, a dozen rods from the nearest pine, it suggested to me that the air must be full of this fine dust at this season, that it must be carried to great distances, and its presence might be detected remote from pines by examining the edges of bodies of water, where it would be collected to one side by the wind and waves from a large area ... the lakes detect for us thus the presence of the pine pollen in the atmosphere. They are our pollinometers.") See also May 4, 1853 ("Humboldt speaks of its having been proved that pine pollen falls from the atmosphere."); June 3, 1857 ("The pitch pine at Hemlocks is in bloom. . . .As usual, when I jar them the pollen rises in a little cloud about the pistillate flowers and the tops of the twigs, there being a little wind"); June 8, 1851 ("I found the white-pine-top full of staminate blossom buds not yet fully grown or expanded, with a rich red tint like a tree full of fruit, but I could find no pistillate blossom."); June 9, 1850 ("I see the pollen of the pitch pine now beginning to cover the surface of the pond. Most of the pines at the north northwest end have none, and on some there is only one pollen-bearing flower. ");  June 14, 1853 ("The pollen of the pine yellowed the driftwood on the shore and the stems of bushes which stood in the water, and in little flakes extended out some distance on the surface, until at four or five rods in this cove it was suddenly and distinctly bounded by an invisible fence on the surface"); June 14, 1854 ("Bacon says he has seen pitch pine pollen in a cloud going over a hill a mile off;"); June 18, 1860 (I see in the southerly bays of Walden the pine pollen now washed up thickly; only at the bottom of the bays, especially the deep long bay, where it is a couple of rods long by six to twenty-four inches wide and one inch deep; pure sulphur-yellow, and now has no smell. It has come quite across the pond from where the pines stand, full half a mile, probably washed across most of the way. "); June 20, 1858 ("Walking in the white pine wood there, I find that my shoes and, indeed, my hat are covered with the greenish-yellow pollen of the white pines, which is now being shed abundantly and covers like a fine meal all the plants and shrubs of the forest floor.");  June 22, 1858 ("I notice, after tipping the water out of my boat under the willows, much evidently pine pollen adhering to the inside of the boat along the water-line. Did it fall into it during my excursion to Holden’s Swamp the 20th, or has it floated through the air thus far?"); June 25, 1852 ("I am too late for the white pine flowers. The cones are half an inch long and greenish, and the male flowers effete.”); June 25, 1857 ("White pine effete. "); June 25, 1858 ("The ground under the white pines is now strewn with the effete flowers, like an excrement.”);  July 1, 1852 ("The path by the wood-side is red with the effete staminiferous flowers of the white pine")

Nighthawks fly low and touch the water like swallows. . . See May 31, 1856 ("As I return in the dusk, many nighthawks, with their great spotted wings, are circling low over the river, as the swallows were when I went out. . . .')

Kalmia in prime.

May 27. 

May 27, 2016

To Kalmia Swamp with Sanborn. 

Fringilla melodia’s nest in midst of swamp, with four eggs, made partly of usnea; two stories, i.e. upon an old nest, elevated one foot above the water; eggs with very dark blotches. 

Kalmia in prime, and rhodora. Apparently the oldest-blossomed kalmia the palest. 

Saw probably a deer mouse jumping off by the side of the swamp; short leaps of apparently ten inches.

The pyrus (smooth-leaved) out apparently a day or two. 

See men fishing, one or two, and often perceived the meadow fragrance. 

My three kinds of birch sap have now become more acid, especially the white and canoe birch. The black birch is milder and more agreeable. With sugar it is an agreeable drink. I prefer it to cream-o’-tartar water. This is the real birch wine.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, May 27, 1856

Fringilla melodia’s nest in midst of swamp, with four eggs, made partly of usnea; . . . eggs with very dark blotches. . . .See June 14, 1855 ("A song sparrow’s nest in ditch bank under Clamshell, of coarse grass lined with fine, and five eggs nearly hatched and a peculiar dark end to them."); June 9, 1855 ("A song sparrow’s nest low in Wheeler’s meadow, with five eggs, made of grass lined with hair. ")  See also A Book of Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Song Sparrow (Fringilla melodia)


Kalmia in prime, and rhodora. . . . See May 26, 1855 ("To my surprise the Kalmia glauca almost all out; perhaps began with rhodora. A very fine flower, the more interesting for being early."); January 9, 1855 ("Make a splendid discovery this afternoon. Walking through Holden’s white spruce swamp, I see peeping above the snow-crust some slender delicate evergreen shoots . . . the Kalmia glauca var.rosmarinifolia.").   Note: the Kalmia glauca var. rosmarinifolia is known as rosemary-leaf laurel or alpine bog laurel (Andromeda Polifolia) H. Peter Loewer, Thoreau's Garden: Native Plants for the American Landscape 32-33

Often perceived the meadow fragrance. . . . See May 27, 1855 ("The meadow fragrance to-day.”); May 15,1856 ("Perceive some of that delicious meadow fragrance coming over the railroad causeway.”)

I stop at Bristol pond take a picture then hear a Baltimore oriole confirmed when I see it high in a tree singing. ~zphx 20160527

Though fitted to drain Amazons, we ordinarily live with dry channels.

April 19.

Was awakened in the night to a strain of music dying away, — passing travellers singing. 

My being was so expanded and infinitely and divinely related for a brief season that I saw how unexhausted, how almost wholly unimproved, was man’s capacity for a divine life. When I remembered what a narrow and finite life I should anon awake to! Though, with respect to our channels, our valleys, and the country we are fitted to drain, we are Amazons, we ordinarily live with dry channels. 

The arbor-vita: by riverside behind Monroe’s appears to be just now fairly in blossom. 

I notice acorns sprouted. 

My birch wine now, after a week or more, has become pretty clear and colorless again, the brown part having settled and now coating the glass. 

Helped Mr. Emerson set out in Sleepy Hollow two over-cup oaks, one beech, and two arbor-vitaes. 

As dryness will open the pitch pine cone, so moisture closes it up again. I put one which had been open all winter into water, and in an hour or two it shut up nearly as tight as at first.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, April 19, 1856

I saw how unexhausted, how almost wholly unimproved, was man’s capacity for a divine life. . . . See March 17, 1852  ("I am conscious of having, in my sleep, transcended the limits of the individual"); July 16, 1851(" I am astonished. I am daily intoxicated. There comes to me such an indescribable, infinite, all-absorbing, divine, heavenly pleasure, a sense of elevation and expansion -- . . . I am dealt with by superior powers"); May 24, 1851 ("My most sacred and memorable life is commonly on awaking in the morning. I frequently awake with an atmosphere about me as if my unremembered dreams had been divine, as if my spirit had journeyed to its native place”).

A pitch pine cone which had been open all winter shut up. Compare January 25, 1856 ("A closed pitch pine cone gathered January 22d opened last night in my chamber. ") See also A Book of Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Pitch Pine