A Book of the Seasons, Signs of the Spring: Skunks Active

No mortal is alert enough 

to be present at the first dawn of the spring. 

Henry Thoreau, March 17, 1857

For the first time I perceive this spring that the year is a circle.

Why should just these sights and sounds accompany our life?

Why should I hear the chattering of black-birds,

why smell the skunk each year?

 April 18, 1852

They appear to come out commonly

in the warmer weather

in the latter part of February.

February 25, 1860

January 24.  The droppings of a skunk left on a rock, perhaps at the beginning of winter, were full of grasshoppers' legs. January 24, 1860

February 23. I have seen signs of the spring. February 23, 1857

February 24. The other day I thought that I smelled a fox very strongly, and went a little further and found that it was a skunk. May not their odors differ in intensity chiefly?  February 24, 1854

February 24.  I have seen the probings of skunks for a week or more. I now see where one has pawed out the worm-dust or other chankings from a hole in base of a walnut and torn open the fungi, etc., there, exploring for grubs or insects. They are very busy these nights. February 24, 1857

February 25. For a day or two past I have seen in various places the small tracks apparently of skunks.  They appear to come out commonly in the warmer weather in the latter part of February.  February 25, 1860

March 6. To Goose Pond. I see the skunk-cabbage started about the spring at head of Hubbard's Close, amid the green grass, and what looks like the first probing of the skunk. March 6, 1854

March 10.  See a skunk in the Corner road, which I follow sixty rods or more. Out now about 4 p. m., — partly because it is a dark, foul day. It is a slender black (and white) animal, with its back remarkably arched, standing high behind and carrying its head low; runs, even when undisturbed, with singular teeter or undulation, like the walking of a Chinese lady. Very slow; I hardly have to run to keep up with it.  It has a long tail, which it regularly erects when I come too near and prepares to discharge its liquid. It is white at the end of the tail, and the hind head and a line on the front of the face, — the rest black, except the flesh-colored nose (and I think feet).  It tries repeatedly to get into the wall, and does not show much cunning. Finally it steers apparently, for an old skunk or wood-chuck hole under a wall four rods off, and gets into it, — or under the wall, at least, — for it is stopped up, — and there I view at leisure close to.  It has a remarkably long, narrow, pointed head and snout, which enable it to make those deep narrow holes in the earth by which it probes for insects. 

Its eyes have an innocent, childlike, bluish-black expression. 

It makes a singular loud patting sound repeatedly, on the frozen ground under the wall, undoubtedly with its fore feet (I saw only the upper part of the animal), which reminds me of what I have heard about your stopping and stamping in order to stop the skunk. Probably it has to do with its getting its food, — patting the earth to get the insects or worms. Though why it does so now I know not. Its track is small, round, showing the nails, a little less than an inch in diameter, alternate five or six inches by two or two and a half, sometimes two feet together. There is something pathetic in such a sight, — next to seeing one of the human aborigines of the country. 

I respect the skunk 

as a human being in a 

very humble sphere. 

I have no doubt they have begun to probe already where the ground permits, — or as far as it does. But what have they eat all winter? March 10, 1854

March 14.  I think I have seen many more tracks of skunks within two or three weeks than all the winter before; as if they were partially dormant here in the winter, and came out very early, i. e., perhaps some of them are more or less dormant. March 14, 1858

March 22. The phenomena of an average March . . . Skunks are active and frolic; woodchucks and ground squirrels come forth. March 22, 1860

March 28. I see where a skunk (apparently) has been probing the sod, though it is thawed but a few inches, and all around this spot frozen hard still. I dig up there a frozen and dead white grub, the large potato grub; this I think he was after. The skunk’s nose has made small round holes such as a stick or cane would make.  March 28, 1855

March 30.  Not till late could the skunk find a place where the ground was thawed on the surface. March 30, 1855

*****

So I came in and

shut the door and passed my first

spring night in the woods.

Walden, Spring

See also Signs of the Spring:

• A Change in the Air
• A Sunny Nook in Spring
• Alder and Willow Catkins Expanding
• Braided Ripples of Melting Snow Shine in the Ruts
• Bright Blue Water
• Buzzing Flies
• Ducks Afar, Sailing on the Meadow
• Frogs, and Turtles Stirring
• Greening Grasses and Sedges
• I begin to think that my wood will last.
• Insects and Worms Come Forth and are Active
• Listening for the Bluebird
• March is famous for its Winds
• Mosses Bright Green
• My Greatcoat on my Arm
• Perla-like Insects Appear
• Red Maple Sap Flows
• Ripples made by Fishes
• Skunks Active
• The Anxious Peep of the Early Robin
• The Crowing of Cocks, the Cawing of crows
• The Days have grown Sensibly Longer
• The Eaves Begin to Run
• The Gobbling of Turkeys
• The Grackle Arrives
• The Hawks of March
• The New Warmth of the Sun
• The Note of the Dark-eyed Junco Going Northward
• The Red-Wing Arrives
• The Skunk Cabbage Blooms
• The Softened Air of these Warm February Days
• The Song Sparrow Sings
• The Spring Note of the Chickadee
• The Spring Note of the Nuthatch
• The Striped Squirrel Comes Out
• The Water Bug (Gyrinus)
• The Woodchuck Ventures Out
• Walking without Gloves
• Woodpeckers Tapping

  <<<<< Signs of Spring                                                          Early Spring >>>>>

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Signs of the Spring: Skunks Active

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 ©  2009-2024

See Vermont Fish & Wildlife Department, Striped Skunk: The skunk forages at night aggressively searching out food guided by its strong sense of smell.  It  is an omnivore and  opportunist by nature, depending on the season and food availability, spending  much of its time digging for insects and burrowing animals. Striped skunks are considered  both crepuscular and nocturnal. They are not true hibernators but will den up and become inactive during long stretches of cold weather. Breeding occurs from February through late March. The young are born in late April to early June and leave the mother in the fall or the following spring to breed and raise a family of their own.

A Book of the Seasons: the Osier in Winter and Early Spring

 

The brightening of the willows or osiers –

that is a season in the spring  . . .  a prominent phenomenon 

affecting the face of Nature, a gladdening of her face.

You will often fancy that they look brighter before the spring has come, 

and when there has been no change in them.  

Henry Thoreau, February 24, 1855 

This phenomenon, whether referable to a change in the condition of the twig

or to the spring air and light, or even to our imaginations,

is not the less a real phenomenon, 

affecting us annually at this season. 

March 2, 1860

The blushing twigs retain their color throughout the winter

and appear more brilliant than ever the succeeding spring. 

March 17, 1859

Willows near Mill Brook

surprise me at a distance –

green, yellowish, red!

March 25, 1854

March 25, 2017

November 14. The willow twigs on the right of the Red Bridge causeway are bright greenish-yellow and reddish as in the spring. November 14, 1854

November 18,  I do not detect any peculiar brightness whatever in the osiers on the Hubbard causeway November 18, 1855

November 18. Notice the short bright-yellow willow twigs on Hubbard’s Causeway. November 18, 1858

December 5. On the causeway the yellowish bark of the willows gleams warmly through the ice. December 5, 1858

January 3. Now, when all the fields and meadows are covered deep with snow, the warm-colored shoots of osiers, red and yellow, rising above it, remind me of flames. January 3, 1856

January 9. And the wet willow bark is a brighter yellow. January 9, 1858

January 19. The willow osiers of last year’s growth on the pollards in Shattuck’s row, Merrick’s pasture, from four to seven feet long, are perhaps as bright as in the spring, the lower half yellow, the upper red, but they are a little shrivelled in the bark. January 19, 1856

January 24. The clear red osiers, [attract us] too, along the riverside in front of Merriam’s on Wheeler’s side. January 24, 1856

January 26. It is a very pleasant and warm day, and when I came down to the river and looked off to Merrick’s pasture, the osiers there shone as brightly as in spring, showing that their brightness depends on the sun and air rather than the season. January 26, 1859

February 6. The woods, especially wooded hillsides half a mile or more distant, have a rich, hoary, frosted look, still and stiff, yet it is not so thick but that the green of the pines and the yellow of the willow bark and the leather-color of oak leaves show through it. These colors are pleasantly toned down.   February 6, 1857

February 23. What mean these turtles, these coins of the muddy mint issued in early spring? The bright spots on their backs are vain unless I behold them. The spots seem brighter than ever when first beheld in the spring, as does the bark of the willow. I have seen signs of the spring.  February 23, 1857 

February 24.  The brightness of the willow's bark. It is a natural resurrection, an experience of immortality.  February 24, 1852

February 24. The brightening of the willows or of osiers, —that is a season in the spring, showing that the dormant sap is awakened . . .  I remember it as a prominent phenomenon affecting the face of Nature, a gladdening of her face. You will often fancy that they look brighter before the spring has come, and when there has been no change in them. February 24, 1855

March 2. Notice the brightness of a row of osiers this morning. This phenomenon, whether referable to a change in the condition of the twig or to the spring air and light, or even to our imaginations, is not the less a real phenomenon, affecting us annually at this season. March 2, 1860

March 5. Was pleased with the sight of the yellow osiers of the golden willow, and the red of the cornel, now colors are so rare. March 5, 1853 

March 10. It must be that the willow twigs, both the yellow and green, are brighter-colored than before. I cannot be deceived. March 10, 1853

March 14. As I return by the old Merrick Bath Place, on the river,—for I still travel everywhere on the middle of the river, — the setting sun falls on the osier row toward the road and attracts my attention. They certainly look brighter now and from this point than I have noticed them before this year, — greenish and yellowish below and reddish above, — and I fancy the sap fast flowing in their pores. Yet I think that on a close inspection I should find no change. Nevertheless, it is, on the whole, perhaps the most springlike sight I have seen., March 14, 1856

March 16. There is, at any rate, such a phenomenon as the willows shining in the spring sun, however it is to be accounted for. March 16, 1856

March 17. When I am opposite the end of the willow - row, seeing the osiers of perhaps two years old all in a mass, they are seen to be very distinctly yellowish beneath and scarlet above. They are fifty rods off. Here is the same chemistry that colors the leaf or fruit, coloring the bark. It is generally, probably always the upper part of the twig, the more recent growth, that is the higher - colored and more flower or fruit like. So leaves are more ethereal the higher up and further from the root . In the bark of the twigs, indeed, is the more permanent flower or fruit. The flower falls in spring or summer, the fruit and leaves fall or wither in autumn, but the blushing twigs retain their color throughout the winter and appear more brilliant than ever the succeeding spring. They are winter fruit. It adds greatly to the pleasure of late November, of winter or of early spring walks to look into these mazes of twigs of different colors. March 17, 1859

March 20. When I get opposite the end of the willow - row, the sun comes out and they are very handsome, like a rosette, pale - tawny or fawn - colored at base and a rich yellow or orange yellow in the upper three or four feet. This is, methinks, the brightest object in the landscape these days. Nothing so betrays the spring sun. I am aware that the sun has come out of a cloud first by seeing it lighting up the osiers. Such a willow-row, cut off within a year or two, might be called a heliometer, or measure of the sun's brightness. March 20, 1859

March 22. C. thinks some willow osiers decidedly more yellow.   March 22, 1854

March 22. The phenomena of an average March. . . Vegetation fairly begins, – conferva and mosses, grass and carex, etc., — and gradually many early herbaceous plants start . . .  willow catkins become silvery, aspens downy; osiers, etc., look bright . . . alder and hazel catkins become relaxed and elongated. March 22, 1860

March 24. I am not sure that the osiers are decidedly brighter yet. March 24, 1855

March 25. Willow osiers near Mill Brook mouth I am almost certain have acquired a fresher color; at least they surprise me at a distance by their green passing through yellowish to red at top. March 25, 1854

March 27. There is an abundance of low willows whose catkins are now conspicuous, rising four to six or seven feet above the water, thickly placed on long wand-like osiers. They look, when you look from the sun, like dead gray twigs or branches (whose wood is exposed) of bushes in the light, but, nearer, are recognized for the pretty bright buttons of the willow. We sail by masses of these silvery buttons two or three rods long, rising above the water. March 27, 1859

April 3. The osiers look bright and fresh in the rain and fog, like the grass. Close at hand they are seen to be beaded with drops from the fog. There seems to be a little life in the bark now, and it strips somewhat more freely than in winter. What a lusty growth have these yellow osiers! Six feet is common the last year, chiefly from the summit of the pollards, —but also from the sides of the trunk,—filling a quadrant densely with their yellow rays. April 3, 1856

April 4. The osier bark now, as usual, looks very yellow when wet, and the wild poplar very green. April 4, 1859

April 19. These osiers to my eye have only a little more liquid green than a month ago. April 19, 1855

April 24. The willow osiers require to be seen endwise the rows, to get an intense color. April 24, 1857

April 27. I am at length convinced of the increased freshness (green or yellow) of the willow bark in the spring. Some a clear yellow, others a delightful liquid green. April 27, 1854

May 4. Notice the white willows on Hubbard's Bridge causeway, - quite a mass of green when seen aslant from this side, and have been two or three days, but as yet no bloom there nor hum of bees. Also their freshest osiers are very bright, yet I think most of it is due to the height at which the sun runs. They are priests of the sun, report his brightness, — heliometers . We do not realize how much more light there is in the day than in winter. If the ground should be covered with snow, the reflection would dazzle us and blister our faces This willow begins to be green before the aspens, say five or six days ago. May 4, 1859

May 14. Going over the Corner causeway, the willow blossoms fill the air with a sweet fragrance, and I am ready to sing, Ah! willow, willow!  These willows have yellow bark, bear yellow flowers and yellowish-green leaves, and are now haunted by the summer yellowbird and Maryland yellow-throat. May 14, 1852

So I came in and

shut the door and passed my first

spring night in the woods.

Walden, Spring

See also :

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau. Willows on the Causeway

A Book of Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau. Salix cordata (heartleaf willow)

and  A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Signs of the Spring:

• A Change in the Air
• A Sunny Nook in Spring
• Alder and Willow Catkins Expanding
• Braided Ripples of Melting Snow Shine in the Ruts
• Bright Blue Water
• Buzzing Flies
• Ducks Afar, Sailing on the Meadow
• Frogs, and Turtles Stirring
• Geese Overhead
• Greening Grasses and Sedges
• I begin to think that my wood will last
• Insects and Worms Come Forth and are Active
• Listening for the Bluebird
• March is famous for its Winds
• Mosses Bright Green
• My Greatcoat on my Arm
• Perla-like Insects Appear
• Red Maple Sap Flows
• Ripples made by Fishes
• Skunks Active
• The Anxious Peep of the Early Robin
• The crowing of cocks, the cawing of crows
• The Days have grown Sensibly Longer
• The Eaves Begin to Run
• The Gobbling of Turkeys
• The Grackle Arrives
• The Hawks of March
• The New Warmth of the Sun
• The Note of the Dark-eyed Junco Going Northward
• The Red-Wing Arrives
• The Skunk Cabbage Blooms
• The Softened Air of these Warm February Days
• The Song Sparrow Sings
• The Spring Note of the Chickadee
• The Spring Note of the Nuthatch
• The Striped Squirrel Comes Out
• The Water Bug (Gyrinus)
• The Woodchuck Ventures Out
• Walking without Gloves
• Woodpeckers Tapping

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau,  the Osier in Winter and early Spring

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 ©  2009-2025

https://tinyurl.com/HDTOsier

A Book of the Seasons, Signs of the Spring: The Spring Note of the Chickadee

 

No mortal is alert enough 

to be present at the first dawn of the spring. 

Henry Thoreau, March 17, 1857

Chickadee passes

the news through all the forest --

spring is approaching.

February 21, 1855

On the first spring day

we first hear the phe-be note

of the chickadee.

March 1, 1856

Interesting that 

this winter bird has a note

to welcome the spring.

March 21, 1858

January 9.  Some chickadees come flitting close to me, and one utters its spring note, phe-be, for which I feel under obligations to him. January 9, 1858

February 9. The chickadees flew to me, as if glad to see me . . . I heard one wiry phe-be. February 9, 1854

February 9. I hear a phoebe note from a chickadee. February 9, 1856

February 14.  The titmice keep up an incessant faint tinkling tchip; now and then one utters a lively day day day, and once or twice one commenced a gurgling strain quite novel, startling, and springlike. The chickadee has quite a variety of notes. The phebe one I did not hear to-day. February 14, 1854

February 21. It is whispered through all the aisles of the forest that another spring is approaching. The wood mouse listens at the mouth of his burrow, and the chickadee passes the news along. February 21, 1855

February 23.   I have seen signs of the spring.  February 23, 1857

February 24.    I walk without a greatcoat. A chickadee with its winter lisp flits over, and I think it is time to hear its phebe note, and that instant it pipes it forth.  February 24, 1857

February 25.  I heard this morning a nuthatch on the elms in the street. I think that they are heard oftener and again at the approach of spring, just as the phoebe note of the chickadee is; and so their gnah gnah is a herald of the spring. February 25, 1859

March 1. The sunlight looks and feels warm, and a fine vapor fills the lower atmosphere. I hear the phoebe or spring note of the chickadee, and the scream of the jay is perfectly repeated by the echo from a neighboring wood.  March 1, 1854

March 1.  I hear several times the fine-drawn phe-be note of the chickadee, which I heard only once during the winter. Singular that I should hear this on the first spring day. March 1, 1856

March 8.   Heard the phebe, or spring note of the chickadee, now, before any spring bird has arrived. March 8, 1853

March 10.  Hear the phoebe note of the chickadee to-day for the first time.  I had at first heard their day-day-day ungratefully,- ah! you but carry my thoughts back to winter, - but anon I find that they too have become spring birds; they have changed their note. Even they feel the influence of spring. March 10, 1852

March 11.  Air full of birds, — bluebirds, song sparrows, chickadee (phoebe notes), and blackbirds. Bluebirds' warbling curls in elms.  March 11, 1854

March 13.  I hear only crows and blue jays and chickadees lisping. Excepting a few bluebirds and larks, no spring birds have come, apparently. The woods are still. March 13, 1853

March 14.  I see a flock of blackbirds and hear their conqueree. The ground is mostly bare now. Again I hear the chickadee's spring note. March 14, 1852

March 19.   Hear the phebe note of a chickadee. March 19, 1858

March 20. For two or three days I have heard the gobbling of turkeys, the first spring sound, after the chickadees  and hens, that I think of.  March 20, 1856

March 21.  Standing by the mud-hole in the swamp, I hear the pleasant phebe note of the chickadee. It is, methinks, the most of a wilderness note of any yet. It is peculiarly interesting that this, which is one of our winter birds also, should have a note with which to welcome the spring.  March 21, 1859

March 22. The jays scream. I hear the downy woodpecker’s rapid tapping and my first distinct spring note (phe-be) of the chickadee. March 22, 1855

March 22.  The phenomena of an average March . . .  About twenty-nine migratory birds arrive (including hawks and crows), and two or three more utter their spring notes and sounds, as nuthatch and chickadee, turkeys, and woodpecker tapping. March 22, 1860 

March 30. I hear many phe-be notes from the chickadees, as if they appreciated this slightly warmer and sunny morning. A fine day. March 30, 1855

So I came in and

shut the door and passed my first

spring night in the woods.

Walden, Spring

See also  A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Signs of the Spring:

• A Change in the Air
• Alder and Willow Catkins Expanding
• Braided Ripples of Melting Snow Shine in the Ruts
• Bright Blue Water
• Buzzing Flies
• Ducks Afar, Sailing on the Meadow
• Frogs, and Turtles Stirring
• Geese Overhead
• Greening Grasses and Sedges
• I begin to think that my wood will last
• Insects and Worms Come Forth and are Active
• Listening for the Bluebird
• March is famous for its Winds
• Mosses Bright Green
• My Greatcoat on my Arm
• Perla-like Insects Appear
• Red Maple Sap Flows
• Ripples made by Fishes
• Skunks Active
• The Anxious Peep of the Early Robin
• The crowing of cocks, the cawing of crows
• The Days have grown Sensibly Longer
• The Eaves Begin to Run
• The Gobbling of Turkeys
• The Grackle Arrives
• The Hawks of March
• The New Warmth of the Sun
• The Note of the Dark-eyed Junco Going Northward
• The Red-Wing Arrives
• The Skunk Cabbage Blooms
• The Softened Air of these Warm February Days
• The Song Sparrow Sings
• The Spring Note of the Chickadee
• The Spring Note of the Nuthatch
• The Striped Squirrel Comes Out
• The Water Bug (Gyrinus)
• The Woodchuck Ventures Out
• Walking without Gloves
• Woodpeckers Tapping

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, 

Signs of the Spring, the spring note of the chickadee

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 ©  2009-2024

tinyurl.com/hdt-springckdee