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
More snow in the night.
The damp snow covers the panes –
darkening the room.
Cloudless horizon
clear cold and indigo-y --
true winter sunset.
 |
| A TRUE WINTER SUNSET December 27, 2017 |
A clear, pleasant day. Tree sparrows about the weeds in the yard. December 27, 1857
Not a particle of ice in Walden to-day. Paddled across it. I took my new boat out. Flint's and Fair Haven being frozen up. Ground bare. River open. December 27, 1852
Walden is still open in one place of considerable extent, just off the east cape of long southern bay. December 27, 1856
Goose Pond is not thickly frozen yet. Near the north shore it cracks under the snow as I walk, and in many places water has oozed out and spread over the ice, mixing with the snow and making dark places. Walden is almost entirely skimmed over. It will probably be completely frozen over to-night. December 27, 1857
Countless birches, white pines, etc., have been killed within a year or two about Goose Pond by the high water. December 27, 1852
The dead birches have broken in two in the middle and fallen over. In some coves where the water is shallow, their wrecks make quite a dense thicket. December 27, 1852
Found chestnuts quite plenty to-day. December 27, 1852
The crows come nearer to the houses, alight on trees by the roadside, apparently being put to it for food. I saw them yesterday also. December 27, 1853
The snow blowing over the ice is like a vapor rising or curling from a roof. December 27, 1853
It is surprising what things the snow betrays. I had not seen a meadow mouse all summer, but no sooner does the snow come and spread its mantle over the earth than it is printed with the tracks of countless mice and larger animals. December 27, 1853
Partridges dash away through the pines, jarring down the snow. December 27, 1857
This evening there are many clouds in the west into which the sun goes down so that we have our visible or apparent sunset and red evening sky as much as fifteen minutes before the real sunset. December 27, 1851
You must be early on the hills to witness such a sunset, — by half past four at least. Then all the vales, even to the horizon, are full of a purple vapor, which half veils the distant mountains, and the windows of undiscoverable farmhouses shine like an early candle or a fire. December 27, 1851
After the sun has gone behind a cloud, there appears to be a gathering of clouds around his setting, and for a few moments his light in the amber sky seems more intense, brighter, and purer than at noonday. December 27, 1851
I think you never see such a brightness in the noon day heavens as in the western sky sometimes, just before the sun goes down in clouds, like the ecstasy which we are told sometimes lights up the face of a dying man. That is a serene or evening death, like the end of the day. December 27, 1851
Then, at last, through all the grossness which has accumulated in the atmosphere of day, is seen a patch of serene sky fairer by contrast with the surrounding dark than midday, and even the gross atmosphere of the day is gilded and made pure as amber by the setting sun, as if the day's sins were forgiven it. December 27, 1851
The man is blessed who every day is permitted to behold anything so pure and serene as the western sky at sunset, while revolutions vex the world. December 27, 1851
There is no winter necessarily in the sky, though the snow covers the earth. The sky is always ready to answer to our moods; we can see summer there or winter. The heavens present, perhaps, pretty much the same aspect summer and winter. December 27, 1851
It is remarkable that the sun rarely goes down without a cloud. December 27, 1851
Venus - I suppose it is - is now the evening star, and very bright she is immediately after sunset in the early twilight. December 27, 1851
You must be early on the hills to witness such a sunset, — by half past four at least. Then all the vales, even to the horizon, are full of a purple vapor, which half veils the distant mountains, and the windows of undiscoverable farmhouses shine like an early candle or a fire. December 27, 1851
After the sun has gone behind a cloud, there appears to be a gathering of clouds around his setting, and for a few moments his light in the amber sky seems more intense, brighter, and purer than at noonday. December 27, 1851
I think you never see such a brightness in the noon day heavens as in the western sky sometimes, just before the sun goes down in clouds, like the ecstasy which we are told sometimes lights up the face of a dying man. That is a serene or evening death, like the end of the day. December 27, 1851
Then, at last, through all the grossness which has accumulated in the atmosphere of day, is seen a patch of serene sky fairer by contrast with the surrounding dark than midday, and even the gross atmosphere of the day is gilded and made pure as amber by the setting sun, as if the day's sins were forgiven it. December 27, 1851
The man is blessed who every day is permitted to behold anything so pure and serene as the western sky at sunset, while revolutions vex the world. December 27, 1851
There is no winter necessarily in the sky, though the snow covers the earth. The sky is always ready to answer to our moods; we can see summer there or winter. The heavens present, perhaps, pretty much the same aspect summer and winter. December 27, 1851
It is remarkable that the sun rarely goes down without a cloud. December 27, 1851
Venus - I suppose it is - is now the evening star, and very bright she is immediately after sunset in the early twilight. December 27, 1851
It is a true winter sunset, almost cloudless, clear, cold indigo-y along the horizon. The evening star is seen shining brightly, before the twilight has begun. December 27, 1853
A rosy tint suffuses the eastern horizon. The outline of the mountains is wonderfully distinct and hard, and they are a dark blue and very near. December 27, 1853
Grows cold in the evening, so that our breaths condense and freeze on the windows. December 27, 1859
December 27, 2021
*****
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Serene as the Sky.
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the American Crow
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Partridge
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, First Ice
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Annual ice-in at Walden
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Boat in. Boat out.
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Tree Sparrow
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Winter Birds
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Western Sky
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Horizon
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Winter Sunsets
*****
April 3, 1852 ("Venus is very bright now in the west, and Orion is there, too, now")May 8, 1852 ("Venus is the evening star and the only star yet visible");
June 15, 1852 ("The evening star, multiplied by undulating water, is like bright sparks of fire continually ascending. ");
June 25, 1852 ("Moon half full. Fields dusky; the evening star and one other bright one near the moon. It is a cool but pretty still night. ")
July 3, 1840 ("We will have a dawn, and noon, and serene sunset in ourselves").
June 25, 1852 ("Moon half full. Fields dusky; the evening star and one other bright one near the moon. It is a cool but pretty still night. ")
July 3, 1840 ("We will have a dawn, and noon, and serene sunset in ourselves").
June 28, 1852 ("Now it is starlight; perhaps that dark cloud in the west has concealed the evening star before.")
July 18, 1851("If the sun rises on you slumbering, if you do not hear the morning cock-crow, if you do not witness the blushes of Aurora, if you are not acquainted with Venus as the morning star, what relation have you to wisdom and purity? ")
August 8, 1851 ("One star, too, — is it Venus ? — I see in the west. Starlight! that would be a good way to mark the hour, if we were precise.")
July 18, 1851("If the sun rises on you slumbering, if you do not hear the morning cock-crow, if you do not witness the blushes of Aurora, if you are not acquainted with Venus as the morning star, what relation have you to wisdom and purity? ")
August 8, 1851 ("One star, too, — is it Venus ? — I see in the west. Starlight! that would be a good way to mark the hour, if we were precise.")
August 19, 1854 ("Flint's Pond has fallen very much since I was here. The shore is so exposed that you can walk round, which I have not known possible for several years, and the outlet is dry. But Walden is not affected by the drought.")
September 18, 1858 ("The cooler air is so clear that we see Venus plainly some time before sundown")
November 2, 1853 ("The evening star is now very bright; and is that Jupiter near it?") November 13, 1851("The mountains are of an uncommonly dark blue to-day. Perhaps this is owing . . . to the greater clearness of the atmosphere, which brings them nearer")
November 26, 1858 (“Walden is very low, compared with itself for some years. . . ., and what is remarkable, I find that not only Goose Pond also has fallen correspondingly within a month, but even the smaller pond-holes only four or five rods over, such as Little Goose Pond, shallow as they are. I begin to suspect, therefore, that this rise and fall extending through a long series of years is not peculiar to the Walden system of ponds, but is true of ponds generally, and perhaps of rivers”);
December 2, 1852 ("I do not remember when I have taken a sail or a row on the river in December before.")
December 2, 1852 ("I do not remember when I have taken a sail or a row on the river in December before.")
December 2, 1854 ("Got up my boat and housed it, ice having formed about it.")
December 2, 1856 ("Got in my boat.")
December 5, 1852 ("This great rise of [Walden] pond after an interval of many years, and the water standing at this great height for a year or more, kills the shrubs and trees about its edge, — pitch pines, birches, alders, aspens, etc., — and, falling again, leaves an unobstructed shore.")
December 5, 1856 (" I love to have the river closed up for a season and a pause put to my boating . . . I love best to have each thing in its season only, and enjoy doing without it at all other times.")
December 2, 1856 ("Got in my boat.")
December 5, 1852 ("This great rise of [Walden] pond after an interval of many years, and the water standing at this great height for a year or more, kills the shrubs and trees about its edge, — pitch pines, birches, alders, aspens, etc., — and, falling again, leaves an unobstructed shore.")
December 5, 1856 (" I love to have the river closed up for a season and a pause put to my boating . . . I love best to have each thing in its season only, and enjoy doing without it at all other times.")
December 8, 1855 (" Let a snow come and clothe the ground and trees, and I shall see the tracks of many inhabitants now unsuspected")
December 11, 1854 ("C. says he found Fair Haven frozen over last Friday, i. e. the 8th. I find Flint’s frozen to-day.")
December 12, 1856 (“At the wall between Saw Mill Brook Falls and Red Choke-berry Path, . . see where they [squirrels] have dug the burs out of the snow, and then sat on a rock or the wall and gnawed them in pieces. I, too, dig many burs out of the snow with my foot”)
December 12, 1859 ("The snow having come, we see where is the path of the partridge, — his comings and goings from copse to copse, — and now first, as it were, we have the fox for our nightly neighbor, and countless tiny deer mice.")
December 13, 1852 ("River and ponds all open. Goose Pond skimmed over")
December 13, 1852 (“I judge from his account of the rise and fall of Flint's Pond that, allowing for the disturbance occasioned by its inlets and outlet, it sympathizes with Walden.")
December 19, 1854 ("Last night was so cold that the river closed up almost everywhere, and made good skating where there had been no ice to catch the snow of the night before.")
December 20, 1854("The river appears to be frozen everywhere. Where was water last night is a firm bridge of ice this morning. . . At sundown or before, it begins to belch. It is so cold that only in one place did I see a drop of water flowing out on the ice")
December 20, 1855("It [skating] is pretty good on the meadows, which are somewhat overflown, and the sides of the river, but the greater part of it is open. . . . How placid, like silver or like steel in different lights, the surface of the still, living water between these borders of ice, reflecting the weeds and trees, and now the warm colors of the sunset sky!")
December 21, 1855("I here take to the riverside. The broader places are frozen over, but I do not trust them yet. Fair Haven is entirely frozen over, probably some days")
December 22, 1852 (" The squirrel, rabbit, fox tracks, etc., attract the attention in the new-fallen snow . . . You cannot go out so early but you will find the track of some wild creature.")
December 22, 1859 ("I see in the chestnut woods near Flint's Pond where squirrels have collected the small chestnut burs left the trunks on the snow.")
December 23, 1851 ("I find that the evening star is shining brightly, and, beneath all, the west horizon is glowing red, — that dun atmosphere instead of clouds reflecting the sun, — and I detect, just above the horizon, the narrowest imaginable white sickle of the new moon")
December 24, 1850 (" I notice that the fine, dry snow blown over the surface of the frozen fields looks like steam curling up, as from a wet roof when the sun comes out after a rain.”)
December 25, 1853("Skated to Fair Haven and above.")
December 25, 1858("Walden at length skimmed over last night, i. e. the two holes that remained open.");
December 26, 1850("Walden not yet more than half frozen over.")
December 26, 1853 ("Walden still open. Saw in it a small diver . . .This being the only pond hereabouts that is open")
December 28, 1852 ("Brought my boat from Walden in rain. No snow on ground.")
December 28, 1856 ("Walden completely frozen over again last night.")
December 28, 1859 ("Crows come near the houses. These are among the signs of cold weather. ")
December 29, 1855 ("Am surprised to find eight or ten acres of Walden still open . . . It must be owing to the wind partly.")
December 30, 1853 ("The pond not yet frozen entirely over; about six acres open, the wind blew so hard last night. ")
December 30, 1855 ("There was yesterday eight or ten acres of open water at the west end of Walden, where is depth and breadth combined.")
December 31, 1850 ("Walden pond has frozen over since I was there last.”)
December 31, 1852 ("I was this afternoon gathering chestnuts at Saw Mill Brook")
December 31, 1853 ("Walden froze completely over last night.")
December 31, 1853 ("This animal probably I should never see the least trace of, were it not for the snow, the great revealer.")
January 4, 1860 ("Again see what the snow reveals.. . . that the woods are nightly thronged with little creatures which most have never seen")
January 5, 1860 ("How much the snow reveals! ")
January 7, 1856 (" The cold weather has brought the crows, and for the first time this winter I hear them cawing amid the houses.")
January 19, 1852 ("The snow blowing far off in the sun . . .looks like the mist that rises from rivers in the morning.")
January 23, 1852 ("And the new moon and the evening star, close together, preside over the twilight scene”)
January 23, 1852 ("The snow is so deep and the cold so intense that the crows are compelled to be very bold in seeking their food, and come very near the houses in the village. ")
January 24, 1852 (“And now the crescent of the moon is seen, and her attendant star is farther off than last night.”)
January 25, 1853 ("I still pick chestnuts.")
January 26, 1853 ("There is now a fine steam-like snow blowing over the ice.")
February 3, 1852 ("The moon is nearly full tonight, and the moment is passed when the light in the east (i. e. of the moon) balances the light in the west. Venus is now like a little moon in the west,")
February 3, 1852 ("The moon is nearly full tonight, and the moment is passed when the light in the east (i. e. of the moon) balances the light in the west. Venus is now like a little moon in the west,")
February 3, 1852 ("But the evening star is preparing to set, and I will return. Floundering through snow, sometimes up to my middle, my owl sounds hoo hoo hoo, ho-O")
February 6, 1855 ("Frostwork keeps its place on the window within three feet of the stove all day in my chamber.")
February 16, 1852 ("I see the steam-like snow-dust curling up and careering along over the fields.”)
February 16, 1854 ("Snow is a great revealer not only of tracks made in itself, but even in the earth before it fell.")
December 28, 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.
December 26 <<<<<<<< December 27 >>>>>>>> December 28
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, December 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 © 2009-2022
