The black-polls are very numerous all over the town this spring.

May 27.

Fire in house again. 

The Sylvia striata are the commonest bird in the street, as I go to the post-office, for several days past. I see six (four males, two females) on one of our little fir trees; are apparently as many more on another close by. The white bars on the wings of both sexes are almost horizontal. 

I see them thus early and late on the trees about our houses and other houses the 27th and 28th and 29th also, - peach trees, etc., but especially on the firs.

They are quite tame. I stand within seven or eight feet while they are busily pecking at the freshly bursting or extending glaucous fir twigs, deliberately examining them on all sides, and from time to time one utters a very fine and sharp, but faint tse tse, tse tse, tse tse, with more or less of these notes. I hear the same in the woods.

Examining the freshly starting fir twigs, I find that there are a great many lice or aphides amid the still appressed leafets or leaves of the buds, and no doubt they are after these. Occasionally a summer yellowbird is in company with them, about the same business.

They, the black-polls, are very numerous all over the town this spring. The female has not a black, but rather, methinks, a slate - colored crown, and is a very different bird, — more of a yellowish brown.

Eleocharis acicularis, not long, on the low exposed bank of the river; if it is that that greens the very low muddy banks.

J. Farmer found a marsh hawk's nest on the 16th, — near the Cooper ' s hawk nest, — with three fresh eggs.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, May 27, 1860

Fire in house again. See May 21, 1860 (“Cold, at 11 A.M. 50°; and sit by a fire”); and note to May 22, 1860 ("Another cold and wet day, requiring fire")

They, the black-polls, are very numerous all over the town this spring. See May 20, 1856 ("The Sylvia striata, or black-poll warbler, busily picking about the locust buds and twigs. Black head and above, with olive (green) wings and two white bars; white all beneath, with a very distinct black line from throat to shoulders; flesh-colored legs; bill, dark above, light beneath."); and note to June 4, 1860 ("The black-poll warblers (Sylvia striata) appear to have left, and some other warblers, if not generally, with this first clear and bright and warm, peculiarly June weather, immediately after the May rain.") See also A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Black-poll Warbler

J. Farmer found a marsh hawk's nest on the 16th with three fresh eggs. See May 29, 1860 ("We next proceeded to the marsh hawk’s nest from which the eggs were taken a fortnight ago and the female shot")

The distant crashing of thunder.

May 20

Fir-balsam (ours in grove) apparently two or three days, for it [is] almost entirely effete; cones white, one inch long nearly. 

Was awaked and put into sounder sleep than ever early this morning by the distant crashing of thunder, and now, — P. M. (to Beck Stow’s),— I hear it in mid-afternoon, muttering, crashing in the muggy air in mid-heaven, a little south of the village as I go through it, like the tumbling down of piles of boards, and get a few sprinkles in the sun. 

Nature has found her hoarse summer voice again, like the lowing of a cow let out to pasture. It is Nature’s rutting season. Even as the birds sing tumultuously and glance by with fresh and brilliant plumage, so now is Nature’s grandest voice heard, and her sharpest flashes seen. The air has resumed its voice, and the lightning, like a yellow spring flower, illumines the dark banks of the clouds. All the pregnant earth is bursting into life like a mildew, accompanied with noise and fire and tumult. Some oestrus stings her that she dashes headlong against the steeples and bellows hollowly, making the earth tremble. She comes dropping rain like a cow with overflowing udder. The winds drive her; the dry fields milk her. 

It is the familiar note of another warbler, just arrived, echoing amid the roofs. I see, on a locust in the burying-ground, the Sylvia striata, or black-poll warbler, busily picking about the locust buds and twigs. Black head and above, with olive (green) wings and two white bars; white all beneath, with a very distinct black line from throat to shoulders; flesh-colored legs; bill, dark above, light beneath. Hear no note. Saw it well. 

At Moore’s Swamp on Bedford road, myriads of pollywogs half an inch long darken or blacken the shore, chiefly head as yet. 

Bank swallows are very lively about the low sand-bank just beyond, in which are fifty holes.

I now see distinctly the chestnut-sided warbler (of the 18th and 17th), by Beck Stow’s. It is very lively on the maples, birches, etc., over the edge of the swamp. Sings eech eech eech | wichy wichy | tchea or itch itch itch | witty witty |  tchea. Yet this note I represented on the 18th by tche tche tche | tchut tchutter we. 

The andromeda has apparently been out several days, but no buck-bean there yet, nor will for a day or two. 

See and hear a stake-driver in the swamp. It took one short pull at its pump and stopped. 

Two marsh hawks, male and female, flew about me a long time, screaming, the female largest, with ragged wings, as I stood on the neck of the peninsula. This induced me to climb four pines, but I tore my clothes, got pitched all over, and found only squirrel; yet they have, no doubt, a nest thereabouts. 

Haynes the carpenter calls that large glaucous puff that grows on the Andromeda paniculata, swamp-apple; says he has eaten as much as three bushels (!) of them when he was a boy, and likes them. That is what he was raised on. 

After I got him home, I observed a large leech on the upper shell of my great turtle. He stoutly resisted being turned over, by sinking his claws into the ground; was aware that that was his weak side, and, when turned, would instantly run out his head and turn himself back. No wonder the Orientals rested the world on such a broad back. 

Such broad health and strength underlies Nature.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal,  May 20, 1856

I hear it in mid-afternoon, muttering, crashing in the muggy air in mid-heaven. . . .Nature has found her hoarse summer voice again. Compare May 20, 1854 ("See the lightning, but can not hear the thunder.”);  May 17, 1853 ("Does not summer begin after the May storm?”)

At Moore’s Swamp on Bedford road, myriads of pollywogs. See note to May 19, 1857 ("See myriads of minute pollywogs, recently hatched, in the water of Moore's Swamp.”)

I see, on a locust in the burying-ground, the Sylvia striata, or black-poll warbler, busily picking about the locust buds and twigs. See  May 27, 1860 ("The Sylvia striata are the commonest bird in the street, as I go to the post-office, for several days past. I see six (four males, two females) on one of our little fir trees; are apparently as many more on another close by."); June 4,1860 ("The black-poll warblers (Sylvia striata) appear to have left, and some other warblers, if not generally, with this first clear and bright and warm, peculiarly June weather, immediately after the May rain. ") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Black-poll Warbler

 Bank swallows are very lively about the low sand-bank just beyond, in which are fifty holes. See May 7, 1856 (“A hundred or more bank swallows at 2 P. M. (I suspect I have seen them for some time)”); May 11, 1856 ("There are many swallows circling low over the river behind Monroe’s, — bank swallows, barn, republican, chimney, and white-bellied. These are all circling together a foot or two over the water, passing within ten or twelve feet of me in my boat."); May 12, 1856 ("I see, in the road beyond Luther Hosmer’s, in different places, two bank swallows which were undoubtedly killed by the four days’ northeast rain we have just had."); May 13, 1856 ("In the swallows’ holes behind Dennis’s, I find two more dead bank swallows, and one on the sand beneath, and the feathers of two more which some creature has eaten. This makes at least seven dead bank swallows in consequence of the long, cold northeast rain.")

I now see distinctly the chestnut-sided warbler (of the 18th and 17th), by Beck Stow’s. See May 17, 1860 ("A chestnut - sided warbler , — the handsome bird , — with a bright-yellow crown and yellow and black striped back and bright-chestnut sides, not shy, busily picking about the expanding leaves of a white birch \"); May 18, 1856 (" Also another clear pure white beneath, and vent, and side-head; black above, finely marked with yellow; yellow bars on wings; and golden crown; black bill and legs; with a clear  sweet warble like tche tche tche , tchut tchutter we.  Can this be a chestnut-sided warbler, and I not see the chestnut? [It is. Vide 20th. Saw it also the 17th here.]") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Chestnut-sided Warbler

The andromeda has apparently been out several days. See May 24, 1854 ("Wade into Beck Stow's. . . . Surprised to find the Andromeda Polifolia in bloom and apparently past its prime at least a week or more.")

See and hear a stake-driver in the swamp. It took one short pull at its pump and stopped. See  April 24, 1854("I hear the loud and distinct pump-a-gor of a stake-driver. Thus he announces himself."); April, 25 1858 ("Goodwin says he heard a stake-driver several days ago."); May 9, 1853 ("At sundown paddled up the river. The pump-like note of a stake-driver from the fenny place across the Lee meadow."); May 9, 1857 (" Hear stake-driver."); June 15, 1851 ("The sound of the stake-driver at a distance, — like that made by a man pumping in a neighboring farmyard, watering his cattle, or like chopping wood before his door on a frosty morning, and I can imagine like driving a stake in a meadow. The pumper. . . .before I was further off than I thought, so now I was nearer than I thought"); October 26, 1858 ("[Minott] says that some call the stake-driver “'belcher squelcher,” and some, “wollerkertoot.” I used to call them “pump-er-gor’. ” Some say “slug-toot.”See also A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, American Bittern (the Stake-Diver)

Two marsh hawks, male and female, flew about me a long time, screaming . . . they have, no doubt, a nest thereabouts. See May 14, 1857 ("See a pair of marsh hawks, the smaller and lighter-colored male, with black tips to wings, and the large brown female, sailing low over J. Hosmer's sprout-land and screaming, apparently looking for frogs or the like. Or have they not a nest near? They hover very near me.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau,  the Marsh Hawk (Northern Harrier)

My great turtle . . . stoutly resisted being turned over, by sinking his claws into the ground. See May 18, 1856 ("He looked like an antediluvian under that green , shaggy shell , tougher than the rock you mistake it for . . . He was fourteen and one half inches long by twelve at the broadest places, and weighed twenty-five pounds and three ounces. The claws were an inch and a quarter long beyond the skin , and very stout. You had to exert yourself to turn him over on a plane surface, he held down so firmly with his claws, as if grown to it.")

No wonder the Orientals rested the world on such a broad back. See May 4, 1852 ("Hindoos made the world rest on an elephant, and the elephant on a tortoise, and had nothing to put under the tortoise.")

Such broad health and strength underlies Nature. See October 16, 1859 ("The snapping turtle, too, must find a place among the constellations, though . . . if there is no place for him overhead, he can serve us bravely underneath, supporting the earth.") ; See also  August 23, 1853 ("All Nature is doing her best each moment to make us well. She exists for no other end"); December 16, 1853 ("Would you be well, see that you are attuned to each mood of nature"); Walden ("Nature is as well adapted to our weakness as to our strength")

So now is Nature’s 

grandest voice heard, and her 

sharpest flashes seen.

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The distant crashing of thunder

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 © 2009-2026

https://tinyurl.com/hdt-560520

The leafy season: departure of the warblers

June 4.

I notice to-day that most maple, birch, willow, alder, and elm leaves are fully expanded, but most oaks and hickories, ash trees, etc., are not quite. You may say that now, the leafy season has fairly commenced.

Most trees now hold out many little twigs with two or three fully expanded leaves on it, between us and the sun, making already a grateful but thin shade, like a coarse sieve, so open that we see the fluttering of each leaf in its shadow.

About a month ago, after the strong and cold winds of March and April and the (in common years) rain and high water, the ducks, etc., left us for the north. 

Now there is a similar departure of the warblers, on the expansion of the leaves and advent of yet warmer weather. The black-poll warblers (Sylvia striata) appear to have left, and some other warblers, if not generally, with this first clear and bright and warm, peculiarly June weather, immediately after the May rain.

Their season with us, i. e. those that go further, is when the buds are bursting, till the leaves are about expanded; and probably they follow these phenomena northward till they get to their breeding-places, flying from tree to tree, i. e. to the next tree which contains their insect prey.

In a week or more the twigs will have so extended themselves, and the number of fully expanded leaves be so increased, that the trees will look heavy and dark with foliage and the shadow be dark and opaque, - a gelid shade. Hazy, and mountains concealed.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, June 4,1860

The leafy season has fairly commenced.  See May 27, 1853 ("A new season has commenced - summer - leafy June.”); December 30, 1855 ("Winter now first fairly commenced, I feel. ")

. . .like a coarse sieve, so open that we see the fluttering of each leaf in its shadow. See June 2, 1854 (" I would fain be present at the birth of shadow") and June 2 ,1860 ("not yet heavy masses of verdure, but a light openwork, the leaves being few and small yet, as regularly open as a sieve.")

The black-poll warblers (Sylvia striata) appear to have left. . . See JJ Audubon ("Abundantly found in the State of New Jersey close to the sea-shore, the Black-poll Warbler are met with in groups of ten, twelve, or more, in the end of April, but after that period few are to be seen. In Massachusetts they begin to appear nearly a month later, the intervening time being no doubt spent on their passage through New York and Connecticut. I found them at the end of May in the eastern part of Maine, and met with them wherever we landed on our voyage to Labrador, where they arrive from the 1st to the 10th of June, throwing themselves into every valley covered by those thickets, which they prefer for their breeding places.")

The black-poll warblers

appear to leave for the north

after the May rain.

HDT ~ June 4, 1860

June 4. Leave off flannel. Yesterday and to-day uncomfortably warm when walking. 

The foliage of the elms over the street impresses me as dense and heavy already, — comparatively. 

The black-poll warblers (Sylvia striata) appear to have left, and some other warblers, if not generally, with this first clear and bright and warm, peculiarly June weather, immediately after the May rain. About a month ago, after the strong and cold winds of March and April and the (in common years) rain and high water, the ducks, etc., left us for the north. 

Now there is a similar departure of the warblers, on the expansion of the leaves and advent of yet warmer weather. Their season with us, i. e. those that go further, is when the buds are bursting, till the leaves are about expanded; and probably they follow these phenomena north ward till they get to their breeding-places, flying from tree to tree, i. e. to the next tree which contains their insect prey.  

p.m.- To Fair Haven Hill. They began to carry round ice about the 1st. What I called Carex conoidea in '59, was seen June 2d this year in fruit, and may have flowered with C. pallescens. C. Hubbard's first meadow, south side of Swamp Brook willows. Glyceria fluitans, say two or three days, Depot Brook. I see the great blue devil's-needles coasting along the river now, and coupled. Carex retrorsa (much of it going to seed), Hubbard's Bath shore, say ten days. Has the general aspect of pallescens. At Staples Meadow I observe that a great deal of the pitcher-plant is quite dry, dead, and slate-colored, with some green flower-buds pushing up, perhaps. I think it was thus half killed by the drought of April and May. The clear brightness of June was well represented yesterday by the buttercups (Ranunculus bulbosus) along the roadside. Their yellow so glossy and varnished within ; but not without. Surely there is no reason why the new butter should not be yellow now. The time has come now when the laborers, having washed and put on their best suits, walk into the fields on the Sabbath, and lie on the ground at rest. Aphides on alders, which dirty your clothes with their wool as you walk. 

A catbird has her nest in our grove. We cast out strips of white cotton cloth, all of which she picked up and used. I saw a bird flying across the street with so long a strip of cloth, or the like, the other day, and so slowly, that at first I thought it was a little boy's kite with a long tail. 

The catbird sings less now, while its mate is sitting, or maybe taking care of her young, and probably this is the case with robins and birds generally. 

At the west spring of Fair Haven Hill I cast a bit of wood against a pitch pine in bloom (perhaps not yet in prime generally), and I see the yellow pollen-dust blown away from it in a faint cloud, distinctly for three rods at least, and gradually rising all the while (rising five or six feet perhaps). 

I hear that the nest of that marsh hawk which we saw on the 29th (q. v.) has since been found with five eggs in it. So that bird (male), whose mate was killed on the 16th of May, has since got a new mate and five eggs laid. 

One asks me to-day when it is that the leaves are fully expanded, so that the trees and woods look dark and heavy with leaves. I answered that there were leaves on many if not on most trees already fully expanded, but that there were not many on a tree, the shoots having grown only some three inches, but by and by they will have grown a foot or two and there will be ten times as many leaves. 

Each tree (or most trees) now holds out many little twigs, some three inches long, with two or three fully expanded leaves on it, between us and the sun, making already a grateful but thin shade, like a coarse sieve, so open that we see the fluttering of each leaf in its shadow; but in a week or more the twigs will have so extended themselves, and the number of fully expanded leaves be so increased, that the trees will look heavy and dark with foliage and the shadow be dark and opaque, — a gelid shade.

Hazy, and mountains concealed. 

I notice to-day, for example, that most maple, birch, willow, alder, and elm leaves are fully expanded, but most oaks and hickories, ash trees, etc., are not quite. You may say that now, when most trees have fully expanded leaves and the black ash fairly shows green, the leafy season has fairly commenced. (I see that I so called it May 31 and 27, 1853.)