Tortoise eggs hatching.

 

September 10. 

I can find no trace of the tortoise-eggs of June 18, though there is no trace of their having been disturbed by skunks. They must have been hatched earlier.

C. says he saw a painted tortoise a third grown, with a freshly killed minnow in his mouth as long as himself, eating it.

Thinking over the tortoises, I gave these names: rough tortoise, scented ditto, vermilion (rainbow, rail?), yellow box, black box, and yellow-spotted.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, September 10, 1855

I can find no trace of the tortoise-eggs of June 18. See June 18, 1855 ("At 3 P. M., as I walk up the bank by the Hemlocks, I see a painted tortoise just beginning its hole; . . . I stoop down over it, and, to my surprise, after a slight pause it proceeds in its work, directly under and within eighteen inches of my face.") see also June 11, 1858 ("Looking carefully to see where the ground had been recently disturbed, I dug with my hand and could directly feel the passage to the eggs, and so discovered two or three nests with their large and long eggs, – five eggs in one of them.").; June 12, 1860 ("At this moment these turtles are on their way inland to lay their eggs all over the State, warily drawing in their heads and waiting when you come by."); June 16, 1858 (“I see a yellow-spotted turtle digging its hole at mid afternoon, but, like the last of this species I saw, it changed its place after I saw it, and I did not get an egg; it is so wary.”); June 18, 1858 ("I find a young Emys insculpta, apparently going to lay, though she had not dug a hole. It was four and a quarter inches long by three and a half wide, and altogether the handsomest turtle of this species, if not of any, that I have ever seen."); August 26, 1854 ("I am convinced that there must be an irresistible necessity for mud turtles.”); August 28, 1856 ("I open the painted tortoise nest of June 10th, and find a young turtle partly out of his shell. . . .What's a summer? Time for a turtle's eggs to hatch. So is the turtle developed, fitted to endure, for he outlives twenty French dynasties. One turtle knows several Napoleons. ") September 9, 1854 ("Thus the earth is the mother of all creatures.”); And also see A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau,The Musk Turtle (Sternothaerus odoratus ); A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau,the Wood Turtle (Emys insculpta); A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau,The Yellow-Spotted Turtle (Emys guttata); A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau,the Painted Turtle (Emys picta)

Revisiting nests.

July 19.

P. M. — Marlborough Road via railroad and Dugan wood-lot. 

A box tortoise, killed a good while, on the railroad, at Dogwood Swamp; quite dry now. This the fourth I have ever found: first one, alive, in Truro; second one, dead, on shore of Long Pond, Lakeville; third one, alive, under Fair Haven Hill; and fourth, this. 

This appeared to have been run over, but both upper and under shells were broken into several pieces each, in no case on the line of the serrations or of the edges of the scales (proving that they are as strong one way as the other), but at various angles across them, which, I think, proves it to have been broken while the animal was alive or fresh and the shell not dry. I picked up only the after half or two thirds and one foot. The upper shell was at the widest place four and three eighths inches. It was broken irregularly across the back, from about the middle of the second lateral scale from the front on the left to the middle of the third lateral on the right, and was, at the angle of the marginal scales, about sixteen fortieths to seventeen fortieths of an inch thick, measured horizontally. The sides under the lateral scales and half the dorsal were from four to five fortieths of an inch thick. The thinnest part was about three eighths of an inch from middle of back on each side, directly between the spring of the sides [?], where it was but little more than two fortieths thick. So nature makes an arch. 

I have about half the sternum, the rear of it at one point reaching to the hinge. It is thickest vertically just at the side hinges, where it is one fourth thick; thinnest three eighths from this each side, where it is one eighth thick; and thence thickens to the middle of the sternum, where it [is] seven and a half fortieths thick. 

The upper shell in this case (vide May 17, 1856) is neither pointed nor notched behind, but quite straight. The sternum and the lower parts of the marginal scales are chiefly dark-brown. The marking above is sufficiently like that of the Cape Cod specimen, with a still greater proportion of yellow, now faded to a yellowish brown. 

On Linnaea Hills, sarsaparilla berries. 

Lobelia inflata, perhaps several days; little white glands (?) on the edges of the leaves. On the under side of a Lobelia spicata leaf, a sort of loose-spun cocoon, about five eighths of an inch long, of golden-brown silk, beneath which silky mist a hundred young spiders swarm. 

Examined painted tortoise eggs of June 10th. One of those great spider(?)-holes made there since then, close to the eggs. The eggs are large and rather pointed, methinks at the larger end. The young are half developed. 

Fleets of yellow butterflies on road. 

Small white rough-coated puffballs (?) in pastures. Appear not to have two coats like that of Potter's Path, q. v. 

As I come by the apple tree on J. P. B.'s land, where I heard the young woodpeckers hiss a month or so ago, I now see that they have flown, for there is a cobweb over the hole. 

Plucked a handful of gooseberries at J. P. B.'s bush, probably ripe some time. It is of fair size, red-purple and greenish, and apparently like the first in garden, except it is not slightly bristly like that, nor has so much flavor and agreeable tartness. Also the stalk is not so prickly, but for the most part has one small prickle where ours has three stout ones. Our second gooseberry is more purple (or dark-purple with bloom) and the twig less prickly than the wild. Its flavor is insipid and in taste like the wild. 

It is the Hypericum ellipticum and Canadense (linear- leaved) whose red pods are noticed now. 

On the sand thrown out by the money-diggers, I found the first ripe blackberries thereabouts. The heat reflected from the sand had ripened them earlier than elsewhere. It did not at first occur to me what sand it was, nor that I was indebted to the money-diggers, or their Moll Pitcher who sent them hither, for these blackberries. I am probably the only one who has got any fruit out of that hole. It 's an ill wind that blows nobody any good. 

Looking up, I observed that they had dug another hole a rod higher up the hill last spring (for the blackberries had not yet spread over it), and had partly filled it up again. So the result of some idler's folly and some spiritualist's nonsense is that I get my blackberries a few days the earlier. 

The downy woodpecker's nest which I got July 8th was in a dead and partly rotten upright apple bough four and three quarters inches [in] diameter. Hole perfectly elliptical (or oval) one and two sixteenths by one and five sixteenths inches ; whole depth below it eight inches. It is excavated directly inward about three and a half inches, with a conical roof, also arching at back, with a recess in one side on level with the hole, where the bird turns. Judging from an old hole in the same bough, directly above, it enlarges directly to a diameter of two and one fourth to two and one half inches, not in this case descending exactly in the middle of the bough, but leaving one side not a quarter of an inch thick. At the hole it is left one inch thick. At the nest it is about two and three eighths inches [in] diameter. 

I find nothing in the first but bits of rotten wood, remains of insects, etc., when I tip it up, — for I cannot see the bottom, — yet in the old one there is also quite a nest of fine stubble (?), bark shred (?), etc., mixed with the bits of rotten wood.

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

Where I heard the young woodpeckers hiss a month or so ago . . . See June 10, 1856 ("In a hollow apple tree, hole eighteen inches deep, young pigeon woodpeckers, large and well feathered. They utter their squeaking hiss whenever I cover the hole with my hand, apparently taking it for the approach of the mother. A strong, rank fetid smell issues from the hole.")

Examined painted tortoise eggs of June 10th. See June 10, 1856 ("A painted tortoise laying her eggs ten feet from the wheel-track on the Marlborough road.")

The downy woodpecker's nest which I got July 8th was in a dead and partly rotten upright apple . . .  See July 8, 1856 ("Got the downy woodpecker’s nest, some days empty.”)

Lobelia inflata, perhaps several days; little white glands (?) on the edges of the leaves. See July 17, 1852 ("Lobelia inflata, Indian-tobacco""); ; August 20, 1851 ("The Lobelia inflata, Indian-tobacco, meets me at every turn. At first I suspect some new bluish flower in the grass, but stooping see the inflated pods. Tasting one such herb convinces me that there are such things as drugs which may either kill or cure")

Fleets of yellow butterflies on road. See July 26, 1854 ("Today I see in various parts of the town the yellow butterflies in fleets in the road, on bare damp sand, twenty or more collected within a diameter of five or six inches in many places.") and July 14, 1852 ("See to-day for the first time this season fleets of yellow butterflies in compact assembly in the road...")

It is the Hypericum ellipticum and Canadense (linear- leaved) whose red pods are noticed now. See July 24, 1853 ("The small linear leaved hypericum (H. Canadense) shows red capsules.") See also A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, St. Johns-wort (Hypericum)

There, along with me in the deep, wild swamp, above the andromeda, amid the spruce.

MAY 17, 2016

May 17. Rain still or lowering. 

P. M. —To my boat at Cardinal Shore, thence to Lee’s Cliff.

Kingbird. 

The beech twigs I gathered the 15th show anthers to-day in chamber; so it probably blossoms to-day or to-morrow in woods. 

Vaccinium vacillans apparently a day or two at least.

Veronica serpylléfolia abundant now on banks, erected. 

Maryland yellow throat heard afar in meadows, as I go along the road towards Hubbard’s Bridge. 

It is warm, but still overcast and sprinkling occasionally, near the end of the rain, and the birds are very lively. A goldfinch twitters over. 

In the dry lupine bank pasture, about fifteen rods from the river, apparently travelling up the hill, I see a box tortoise, the first I have found in Concord. 

Beside being longer (its upper shell five and one half by four and one fourth inches), it is much flatter and more oblong, less oval, than the one I found on Cape Cod last July. Especially it is conspicuously broader and flatter forward. The two rear marginal plates have a triangular sinus between them while the Cape Cod ones come to a point.The fifth and sixth marginal plates do not project by their edges beyond the shell.

The yellow marks are much narrower, and more interrupted and like Oriental characters, than in the Cape Cod one. The sternum also is less oval, uniformly blackish-brown except a few slight bone-[?] or horn-colored blotches, while the Cape Cod one is light yellow with a few brown blotches. The scales of the sternum in this are much less sharp-angled than in the Cape Cod one. The sternum more hollow or depressed. 

The tail about three eighths of an inch long only, beyond the anus (?). The bill is very upright:  A beak like any Caesar's. Forelegs covered  with orange-colored scales. Hind ones mostly brown or bronze with a few orange spots. 

Beside the usual hiss, uttered in the evening as I was carrying it, a single, as it were involuntary, squeak much like a croaking frog. Iris, bright light red, or rather vermilion, remarkable. Head, brown above with yellow spots; orange beneath and neck. 

The river is about a foot lower than on the 13th, notwithstanding yesterday’s and to-day’s rain. 

At the Kalmia Swamp, see and hear the redstart, very lively and restless, flirting and spreading its reddish tail. 

The sylvias — S. Americana and redstart and summer yellowbird, etc. — are very lively there now after the rain, in the warm, moist air, amid the hoary bursting buds of maples, oaks, etc. 

I stand close on the edge of the swamp, looking for the kalmia. Nothing of its flower to be seen yet. The rhodora there will open in a day or two. 

Meanwhile I hear a loud hum and see a splendid male hummingbird coming zigzag in long tacks, like a bee, but far swifter, along the edge of the swamp, in hot haste. He turns aside to taste the honey of the Andromeda calyculata (already visited by bees) within a rod of me. This golden-green gem. Its burnished back looks as if covered with green scales dusted with gold. It hovers, as it were stationary in the air, with an intense humming before each little flower-bell of the humble Andromeda calyculata, and inserts its long tongue in each, turning toward me that splendid ruby on its breast, that glowing ruby. Even this is coal-black in some lights! 

There, along with me in the deep, wild swamp, above the andromeda, amid the spruce. Its hum was heard afar at first, like that of a large bee, bringing a larger summer. This sight and sound would make me think I was in the tropics, —in Demerara or Maracaibo. [Another on our cherry blossoms the next day. A long, slender black bill.]

Nemopanthes on that very swamp-edge. Vaccinium corymbosum (?) or the high blueberry. 

Hear the first veery note and doubtless the Muscicapa olivacea. 

The Sylvia Americana (parti-colored warbler, etc.) is very numerous there, darting about amid the hoary buds of the maples and oaks, etc. It seems the most restless of all birds, blue more or less deep above, with yellow dust on the back, yellow breast, and white beneath (the male with bright—orange throat, and some with a rufous crescent on breast); wings and tail, dark, black, with two white bars or marks, dark bill and legs. 

At Lee’s the Turritis stricta pods three inches long, and plant two and a half feet high by measure. Get some to press. Myosotis stricta above there, maybe several days. Ranunculus bulbosils a day or two at least. Arenaria serpyllifolia. 

Mrs. Ripley showed me, from her son Gore in Minnesota, a few days ago, the first spring flower of the prairie there, a hairy-stemmed, slender-divisioned, and hairy-involucred, six-petalled blue flower, probably a species of hepatica. No leaves with it. Not described in Gray. 

Yellow columbine well out at Lee’s, one rod from rock, one rod east of ash. 

How plainly we are a part of nature! For we live like the animals around us. All day the cow is cropping the grass of yonder meadow, appropriating, as it were, a part of the solid earth into herself, except when she rests and chews the end; and from time to time she wends her way to the river and fills her belly with that. Her food and drink are not scarce and precious, but the commonest elements of which nature is composed. The dry land in these latitudes, except in woods and deserts, is almost universally clothed with her food, and there are inland seas, ready mixed, of the wine that she loves. The Mississippi is her drink, the prairie grass her food.

The shrub oak and some other oak leafets, just expanding, now begin to be pretty. 

Within the shell of my box turtle, in the cavity be tween its thighs and its body, were small dry leaves and seeds, showing where it laid. From these I should say it had come from amidst the alders.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, May 17, 1856

I see a box tortoise, the first I have found in Concord.  See July 13, 1855 ("Caught a box tortoise. It appeared to have been feeding on insects, - their wing-cases, etc., in its droppings, - also leaves."); September 10, 1855 ("Thinking over the tortoises, I gave these names: rough tortoise, scented ditto, vermilion (rainbow, rail?), yellow box, black box, and yellow-spotted.")

A splendid male hummingbird coming zigzag . . . bringing a larger summer. See  May 15, 1855 ("Hear a hummingbird in the garden."); May 16, 1852 ("I hear a hummingbird about the columbines."); May 16, 1858 ("A hummingbird yesterday came into the next house and was caught."); May 17, 1858 ("When the hummingbird flew about the room yesterday, his body and tail hung in a singular manner between the wings, swinging back and forth ")

Kingbird. . . . Maryland yellow throat . . . S. Americana and redstart and summer yellowbird . . . the first veery note and doubtless the Muscicapa olivacea [red-eyed vireo]. See  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, in the woods, the veery note.");  May 12, 1854 ("Is not this the first day of summer, when first I sit with the window open . . .and hear the golden robin and kingbird, etc. , etc.? not to mention the bobolink, vireo, yellowbird."); May 13, 1860 ("At Holden Swamp, hear plenty of parti-colored warblers (tweezer-birds) and redstarts."); May 17, 1853 ("The sweetest singers among the birds are heard more distinctly now, as the reflections are seen more distinctly in the water, — the veery constantly now."); May 17, 1860; ("By Sam Barrett's meadow-side I see a female Maryland yellow-throat busily seeking its food amid the dangling fruit of the early aspen, in the top of the tree.");  May 27, 1854 ("The red-eye is an indefatigable singer, — a succession of short bars with hardly an interval long continued,")

This golden-green gem,

burnished back dusted with gold,

glowing ruby breast

hummingbird with me

in the deep wild swamp bringing

a larger summer.

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, In the deep, wild swamp,

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-560517

Provincetown Harbor.

July 13

About $33,000 has been appropriated for the protection of Provincetown Harbor. Northeast winds the strongest. 

Caught a box tortoise. It appeared to have been feeding on insects, - their wing-cases, etc., in its droppings, - also leaves. 

No undertow on the bars because the shore is flat.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 13, 1855

July 13, 2015