Each town should have a park, or rather a primitive forest, a common possession forever, for instruction and recreation

October 15. 

P. M. — To Botrychium Swamp. 

A cold northwest wind. 

I see some black oak acorns on the trees still and in some places at least half the shrub oak acorns. The last are handsomer now that they have turned so much darker. 

I go along the east edge of Poplar Hill. This very cold and windy day, now that so many leaves have fallen, I begin to notice the silveriness of willows blown up in the wind, — a November sight. 

The hickories at Poplar Hill (and elsewhere, as far as I perceive) are all past prime now and most half-withered or bare, very different from last year. In warmer autumns, if I remember rightly, they last several weeks later than this in some localities, one succeeding an other with its splendid glow, an evidence of the genial-ness of the season. In cool and moist places, in a genial year, some are preserved green after others have changed, and by their later change and glow they prolong the season of autumnal tints very agreeably. 

This is a cold fall. 

The larches in A. Heywood's swamp, though a yellower green than the white pines, are not yet sharply distinguished from them by their form, as they will be. 

The oaks generally are very fair now at a distance. 

Standing on this hilltop this cold and blustering day, when dark and slate-colored clouds are flitting over the sky, the beauty of the scenery is enhanced by the contrast in the short intervals of sunshine. The whole surface of the country, both young woodlands and full- grown forests, whether they clothe sides of hills or their lit tops are seen over a ridge, — the birch phalanxes and huckleberry flocks [?], etc., — even to the horizon, is like a rug of many brilliant colors, with the towns in the more open and tawny spaces. 

The beauty or effect of the scene is enhanced, if, standing here, you see far in the horizon the red regiments of oaks alternately lit up by the sun and dimmed by the passing shadow of a cloud. As the shadows of these cold clouds flit across the landscape, the red banners of distant forests are lit up or disappear like the colors of a thousand regiments. 

Pratt says that he planted a ground-nut in his garden in good soil, but they grew no bigger than a bean. He did not know but it would take more than one year, even if he planted the tuber. 

The yellow birches are generally bare. 

Juniperus repens leaves have fallen, perhaps with red cedar.

The ash trees I see to-day are quite bare, apparently several or some days. 

The little leaves of the mitchella, with a whitish midrib and veins, lying generally flat on the mossy ground, perhaps about the base of a tree, with their bright-scarlet twin berries sprinkled over them, may properly be said to checker the ground. Now, particularly, they are noticed amid the fallen leaves. 

The bayberry leaves have fallen, and all the berries are gone. I suppose the birds have eaten them. 

Mountain laurel leaves are fallen. 

The yellow birches are bare, revealing the fruit (the short, thick brown catkins) now ripe and ready to scale off. How full the trees are! About as thick as the leaves were. 

The fever-bush is for the most part bare, and I see no berries. 

Rhus radicans too is bare. 

The maidenhair is for the most part withered. It is not evergreen, then. 

The mountain sumach which I see is bare, and some smooth ditto. 

That appears to be Aspidium cristatum which I find evergreen in swamps, but no fertile fronds now. It is broader and denser than the plate of the English one. It cannot be a described variety of spinulosum, for it is only once pinnate. 

I think I see myrtle-birds on white birches, and that they are the birds I saw on them a week or two ago, — apparently, or probably, after the birch lice. 

See a Fringilla hyemalis. 

The chickadees sing as if at home. They are not travelling singers hired by any Barnum. Theirs is an honest, homely, heartfelt melody. Shall not the voice of man express as much content as the note of a bird?  

Botrychium Lunaria has shed pollen, how long? 

The little larches in midst of Gowing's Swamp already changed, before others elsewhere. 

Each town should have a park, or rather a primitive forest, of five hundred or a thousand acres, where a stick should never be cut for fuel, a common possession forever, for instruction and recreation. We hear of cow-commons and ministerial lots, but we want men-commons and lay lots, inalienable forever. Let us keep the New World new, preserve all the advantages of living in the country.

There is meadow and pasture and wood-lot for the town's poor. Why not a forest and huckleberry-field for the town's rich? All Walden Wood might have been preserved for our park forever, with Walden in its midst, and the Easterbrooks Country, an unoccupied area of some four square miles, might have been our huckleberry-field. 

If any owners of these tracts are about to leave the world without natural heirs who need or deserve to be specially remembered, they will do wisely to abandon their possession to all, and not will them to some individual who perhaps has enough already. As some give to Harvard College or another institution, why might not another give a forest or huckleberry-field to Concord? A town is an institution which deserves to be remembered. 

We boast of our system of education, but why stop at schoolmasters and schoolhouses? We are all schoolmasters, and our school-house is the universe. To attend chiefly to the desk or schoolhouse while we neglect the scenery in which it is placed is absurd. If we do not look out we shall find our fine schoolhouse standing in a cow-yard at last. 

The Kalmia glauca, now falling, is quite a brilliant scarlet. In this case you have the fresh liquid-green leaves of this year above the brilliant scarlet ones of last year. Most other evergreens exhibit only a contrast of green with yellow or yellowish. 

The balm-of-Gileads by Mrs. Ripley's bare. Those beyond Barrett's Bridge green and full of leaves. 

The spruce leaves have fallen, — how long? — and its seeds are falling. Larch seeds falling. 

Celtis berries ripe, how long? 

Solanum Dulcamara berries linger over water but mostly are shrivelled. 

Canoe birch is now at least half fallen or more, apparently with the small white; looks in color like an aspen.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, October 15, 1859

The hickories at Poplar Hill (and elsewhere, as far as I perceive) are all past prime now and most half-withered or bare, very different from last year. See October 15, 1858 ("Small hickories are the clearest and most delicate yellow in the shade of the woods.") See also October 8, 1856 ("The hickory leaves are among the handsomest now, varying from green through yellow, more or less broadly green-striped on the principal veins, to pure yellow, at first almost lemon-yellow, at last browner and crisped. This mingling of yellow and green on the same leaf, the green next the veins where the life is most persistent, is very pleasing."); October 22, 1857 ("The hickory leaves, now after they have fallen, are often if not oftenest a dark rich yellow, very conspicuous upon the brown leaves of the forest floor, seeming to have more life in them than those leaves which are brown."); October 4, 1858 ("The hickories on the northwest side of this hill are in the prime of their color, of a rich orange; some intimately mixed with green, handsomer than those that are wholly changed.")

The oaks generally are very fair now at a distance. See October 15, 1858 ("The colors of the oaks are far more distinct now than they were before.")

The chickadees sing as if at home. Theirs is an honest, homely, heartfelt melody. See note to October 15, 1856 ("The chickadees are hopping near on the hemlock above. They resume their winter ways before the winter comes.")

The balm-of-Gileads by Mrs. Ripley's bare. Those beyond Barrett's Bridge green and full of leaves. See October 15,1858 ("The balm-of-Gileads are half bare. ")

October 15.  See A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau October 15

In the horizon 

the red regiments of oaks  

lit up by the sun.

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Each town should have a park

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/hdt591015

I

A warbling vireo in the elm-tops

September 6. 

September 6, 2019

Hear the sounds nowadays — the lowing, tramp, and calls of the drivers — of cows coming down from up-country. 

Staghorn sumach berries probably some time, but ours are injured by worms. 

The fever-bush leaves are remarkably round and entire yet, as if by their odor defended from insects. 

The feverwort berries are apparently nearly in their prime, of a clear "corn yellow " and as large as a small cranberry, in whorls at the axils of the leaves of the half- prostrate plants. 

I hear occasionally a half-warbled strain from a warbling vireo in the elm-tops, as I go down the street nowadays. There is about as much life in their notes now as in the enfeebled and yellowing elm tree leaves at present. 

The liatris is, perhaps, a little past prime. It is a very rich purple in favorable lights and makes a great show where it grows. Any one to whom it is new will be surprised to learn that it is a wild plant. For prevalence and effect it may be put with the vernonia, and it has a general resemblance to thistles and knapweed, but is a handsomer plant than any of them.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, September 6, 1859

Cows coming down from up-country. See August 24, 1853 ("I see cattle coming down from up-country. Why? "); September 20, 1852 ("Droves of cattle have for some time been coming down from up-country"); October 28, 1858 ("Cattle coming down from up country.") See also  April 30, 1860 ("Cattle begin to go up-country."); May 4, 1853 ("Cattle are going up country."); May 6, 1855 ("Road full of cattle going up country.”); May 7, 1856 ("For a week the road has been full of cattle going up country. "); May 8, 1854 ("I hear the voices of farmers driving their cows past to their up-country pastures now."); May 10, 1852 ("This Monday the streets are full of cattle being driven up-country, — cows and calves and colts.").

The feverwort berries are apparently nearly in their prime. See August 23, 1853 ("The feverwort berries are yellowing and yellowed.")

A half-warbled strain from a warbling vireo in the elm-tops. See  September 6, 1858 ("Hear a warbling vireo, sounding very rare and rather imperfect. "); see also May 4, 1855 ("I think I hear a warbling vireo"); May 6, 1852 ("Hear the first warbling vireo this morning on the elms. This almost makes a summer. "): May 10, 1858 ("The warbling vireo cheers the elms with a strain for which they must have pined. "); May 29, 1855 ("the warbling vireo, with its smooth-flowing, continuous, one-barred, shorter strain, with methinks a dusky side-head ). August 9, 1856 (“The notes of the wood pewee and warbling vireo are more prominent of late, and of the goldfinch twittering over.”);August 25, 1858 ("The note of a warbling vireo sounds very rare"); September 4, 1853 ("Hear a warbling vireo, — something rare"); September 13, 1858 ("Hear many warbling vireos these mornings"); September 16, 1852 ("The jay screams; the goldfinch twitters; the barberries are red. The corn is topped. I hear a warbling vireo in the village, which I have not heard for long."); September 20, 1858 ("Hear warbling vireos still, in the elms");

The liatris is, perhaps, a little past prime. See August 1, 1856 ("Liatris will apparently open in a day or two.");August 26, 1858 ("The liatris is about (or nearly) in prime."); September 28, 1858 ("Liatris done, apparently some time."). See also A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Liatris

When my umbrella frightened the horse . . .

October 4

October 4, 2017

A. M. — By boat to Conantum. 

River fallen again. 

Barberrying and graping. Many of the grapes shrivelled and killed by frost now, and the leaves mostly fallen. 

The yellow leaves of the white willow thickly strew the bottom of my boat. These willows shed their oldest leaves first, even like pines. The recent and green ones are seen mottling a yellowish ground, especially in the willow; and, in the case of the willow, at least, these green ones wither and fall for the most part without turning yellow at all. 

The button-bushes are generally greenish-yellow now; only the highest and most exposed points brown and crisp in some places.

The black willow, rising above them, is crisped yellowish-brown, so that the general aspect of the river's brim now is a modest or sober ripe yellowish-brown, — generally no bright colors. 

When I scare up a bittern from amid the weeds, I say it is the color of that bird's breast, — or body generally, for the darker part of its wings correspond to the sere pickerel-weed. 

Now that the pontederia is brown, the humble, weedy green of the shore is bur weed, polygonum, wool-grass, and, in some places, rushes. Such is the river's border ordinarily, — either these weeds mingled with the sere and dark-brown pontederia or a convex raised rim of button-bushes, two to four feet high by a rod wide, through [which] the black willows rise one to a dozen feet higher. 

Here and there, to be sure, are the purple-leaved Cornus sericea, yellowish sweet-gale, reddish rose bushes, etc., etc. Alders are still a fresh green. 

The grape leaves are generally crisp and curled, having a very light-colored appearance, but where it is protected by other foliage it is still a dense canopy of greenish-yellow shields. 

From the midst of these yellowing button-bushes, etc., I hear from time to time a half-warbled strain from some young sparrow who thinks it is spring. 

Scared up from the low shore at the bend, on the south side, opposite Clamshell, a flock of seventy-five or one hundred of what appeared solitary tattlers (??), that went off with a rippling note, wheeled, and alighted there again.

Now again, when other trees prove so fickle, the steadfast evergreenness of the pines is appreciated. 

Bright-tinted flaming scarlet or yellow maples amid pines show various segments of bright cones embosomed in green. At Potter's Swamp, where they are all maples, it adds to the beauty of the maple swamp at this season that it is not seen as a simple mass of color, but, different trees being of different tints, - green, yellow, scar let, crimson, and different shades of each, – the out line of each tree is distinct to where one laps on to another. Yet a painter would hardly venture to make them thus distinct a quarter of a mile off. 

Hear a catbird and chewink, both faint. 

Fever-bush has begun to yellow. Some nightshade leaves are a very dark purple. 

See a grackle on the shore, so near I see the light mark about the eye. 

While I lived in the woods I did various jobs about the town, - some fence-building, painting, gardening, carpentering, etc., etc. One day a man came from the east edge of the town and said that he wanted to get me to brick up a fireplace, etc., etc., for him. I told him that I was not a mason, but he knew that I had built my own house entirely and would not take no for an answer. So I went. 

It was three miles off, and I walked back and forth each day, arriving early and working as late as if I were living there. The man was gone away most of the time, but had left some sand dug up in his cow-yard for me to make mortar with. I bricked up a fireplace, papered a chamber, but my principal work was whitewashing ceilings. Some were so dirty that many coats would not conceal the dirt. In the kitchen I finally resorted to yellow-wash to cover the dirt. I took my meals there, sitting down with my employer (when he got home) and his hired men. I remember the awful condition of the sink, at which I washed one day, and when I came to look at what was called the towel I passed it by and wiped my hands on the air, and thereafter I resorted to the pump. I worked there hard three days, charging only a dollar a day. 

About the same time I also contracted to build a wood-shed of no mean size, for, I think, exactly six dollars, and cleared about half of it by a close calculation and swift working. The tenant wanted me to throw in a gutter and latch, but I carried off the board that was left and gave him no latch but a button. It stands yet, — behind the Kettle house. I broke up Johnny Kettle's old “trow,” in which he kneaded his bread, for material. 

Going home with what nails were left in a flower bucket on my arm, in a rain, I was about getting into a hay-rigging, when my umbrella frightened the horse, and he kicked at me over the fills, smashed the bucket on my arm, and stretched me on my back; but while I lay on my back, his leg being caught over the shaft, I got up, to see him sprawling on the other side. This accident, the sudden bending of my body backwards, sprained my stomach so that I did not get quite strong there for several years, but had to give up some fence-building and other work which I had undertaken from time to time. 

I built the common slat fence for $1.50 per rod, or worked for $1.00 per day. I built six fences. 

Minott and Rice are apt to tell me the same story many times over. Minott told me the other day again of his peach tree. John Richardson was going by with a basket full of peach-stones. “What are you going to do with them?” asked M. He said he was going to plant. “Well, give me two or three of them, and I'll try too.” So he raised one fine tree, which bore first rate rare-ripes as big as an apple, but after bearing once or twice something got into it and the tree died. They’re short-lived things.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, October 4, 1857

The yellow leaves of the white willow thickly strew the bottom of my boat. See October 8, 1855 ("Found my boat yesterday full of willow leaves after the rain. ");October 13, 1857 ("Some white willows are very fresh and green yet. "); October 16, 1858 ("Willows generally turn yellow. . .  though the Salix alba hardly attains to more than a sheeny polish"); October 17, 1858 ("It is the lower leaves of the willows generally which have fallen first.") See also A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, A Book of the Seasons: White Willow (Salix Alba)

I hear from time to time a half-warbled strain from some young sparrow who thinks it is spring. See October 4, 1859 ('I hear half-strains from many of them, as the song sparrow, bluebird, etc., and the sweet phe-be of the chickadee.”) See also October 9, 1851 ("As I return over the bridge, I hear a song sparrow singing on the willows exactly as in spring. ")

 


Fever-bush has begun to yellow. See October 5, 1858 (“The fever-bush is in the height of its change and is a showy clear lemon yellow, contrasting with its scarlet berries.”)

Yellow leaves of the 

white willow thickly strew the 

bottom of my boat. 

Great pines two or more feet in diameter.

September 16.

A. M. – To Great Yellow Birch, with the Watsons. 

Solidago latifolia in prime at Botrychium Swamp.

Barberries very handsome now. See boys gathering them in good season. 

Some fever-bush berries already ripe. 

Watson has brought me apparently Artemisia vulgaris, growing naturally close to Austin's house in Lincoln; hardly in bloom. 

Walked through that beautiful soft white pine grove on the west of the road in John Flint’s pasture. These trees are large, but there is ample space between them, so that the ground is left grassy. Great pines two or more feet in diameter branch sometimes within two feet of the ground on each side, sending out large horizontal branches on which you can sit. Like great harps on which the wind makes music. There is no finer tree. 

The different stages of its soft glaucous foliage completely concealing the trunk and branches are separated by dark horizontal lines of shadow, the flakes of pine foliage, like a pile of light fleeces. 

I see green and closed cones beneath, which the squirrels have thrown down. On the trees many are already open. Say within a week have begun. 

In one small wood, all the white pine cones are on the ground, generally unopened, evidently freshly thrown down by the squirrels, and then the greater part have already been stripped. They begin at the base of the cone, as with the pitch pine. It is evident that they have just been very busy throwing down the white pine cones in all woods. Perhaps they have stored up the seeds separately. This they can do before chestnut burs open. 

Watson gave me three glow-worms which he found by the roadside in Lincoln last night. They exhibit a greenish light, only under the caudal extremity, and intermittingly, or at will. As often as I touch one in a dark morning, it stretches and shows its light for a moment, only under the last segment. 

An average one is five eighths of an inch long, exclusive of the head, when still; four fifths of an inch, or more, with the head, when moving; one fourth of an inch wide, broadest forward; and from one tenth to one eighth inch deep, nearly (at middle). They have six brown legs within about one fourth of an inch of the forward extremity. 

This worm is apparently composed of twelve scale-like segments, including the narrow terminal one or tail, and not including the head, which at will is drawn under the foremost scale or segment like a turtle's. (I do not remember if the other species concealed its head thus, completely.) Looking down on it, I do not see distinctly more than two antennae, one on each side, whitish at base, dark-brown at tip, and apparently about the same length with the longest of the other species. 

The general color above is black, or say a very dark brown or blackish; the head the same. On each side two faint rows of light-colored dots. The first segment is broadly conical, and much the largest; the others very narrow in proportion to their breadth transversely, and successively narrower, slightly recurved at tip and bristle-pointed and also curved upward at the thin outer edge, while the rounded dorsal ridge is slightly elevated above this. Beneath, dirty white with two rows of black spots on each side.

They always get under the sod by day and bury themselves. They are not often much curled up, never in a ring, nor nearly so much as the other kind. They are much more restless when disturbed, both by day and night, than the others. They are a much coarser insect than the other and approach more nearly to the form of a sow-bug. I kept them more than a week. 

Vide back, August 8th.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, September 16, 1857

Solidago latifolia in prime at Botrychium Swamp. See September 1, 1856 (“Solidago latifolia not out quite.”); October 8, 1856 (“ S. latifolia, far gone.”)

Barberries very handsome now. See boys gathering them . . . See note to September 19, 1856 (“Gather just half a bushel of barberries on hill in less than two hours, or three pecks to-day and yesterday in less than three hours. It is singular that I have so few, if any, competitors.”)

Fever-bush berries already ripe. See September 2, 1857 (“In the botrychium swamp, where the fever-bush is the prevailing underwood”); August 21, 1854 ("The fever-bush berries are partly turned red, perhaps prematurely.”)

On the trees many are already open. Say within a week have begun. See note to September 9, 1857 (“To the Hill for white pine cones.”)

Watson gave me three glow-worms . . . See August 8, 1857 (“B. M. Watson sent me from Plymouth, July 20th, six glow-worms,”)

Three large yellow birch, measured.

September 2. 

Wednesday. P. M. – To Yellow Birches. 

September 2, 2017

Measured the thorn at Yellow Birch Swamp. At one foot from ground it is a foot and ten inches in circumference. The first branch is at two feet seven inches. The tree spreads about eighteen feet. The height is about seventeen feet.

A yellow birch some rods north was, at three feet from ground, four feet plus in circumference. A second, northeast of it, was, at four feet, five feet five inches in circumference. It branched at eight feet, the branches extending north two and a third rods, but south only one and a half. Was some fifty or sixty feet high. 

The third, or largest, yellow birch, at the cellar, was, at three feet from the ground on the inside or at the ground on the outside, just below the branches, ten feet nine inches in circumference. It divides to three branches at ground on the upper side, and these almost immediately to three more, so low and horizontal that you can easily step into it. It extends two rods east and one west, the ends of the branches coming down to height of head all round, nearly. It is about two thirds as high as wide, or thirty-three feet high. Looking from the west, of an irregular diamond shape resting on the ground. The roots inclose some cellar stones. 

All these birches were measured at the smallest place between the ground and branches. Large yellow birches branch low and form a dense broom-like head of many long tapering branches. 

In the botrychium swamp, where the fever-bush is the prevailing underwood, I see a Rhus radicans running up a buttonwood which is some forty feet high. It first makes a complete circle about it horizontally at the ground, then goes winding up it in a serpentine manner on the southwest (?) side, thirty feet at least, or as far as I could see, beginning to put out a few twigs at seven or eight feet. It is a vine one and a half and two inches wide, somewhat flattened, clinging close and flat to the tree by innumerable brown fibres which invest itself and adhere to the bark on each side in a thick web. You can hardly tell if it is alive or dead without looking upward. 

Remembering that it was poisonous to some to handle, it had altogether a venomous look. It made me think of a venomous beast of prey which had sprung upon the tree and had it in its clutches, as the glutton is said to cling to the deer while it sucks its blood. It had fastened on it, as a leopard or panther on a deer and there was no escape. It was not married to the buttonwood, as the vine to the poplar. I saw a still larger one the other day in Natick on an elm. 

Some bass trees blossomed sparingly after all, for I see some fruit.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, September 2, 1857

The third, or largest, yellow birch, at the cellar, was. . . ten feet nine inches in circumference. See May 18, 1857 (“There is a very grand and picturesque old yellow birch in the old cellar northwest the yellow birch swamp.”)

In the botrychium swamp, where the fever-bush is the prevailing underwood . . .See July 10, 1857 ("He found, about a week ago, the Botrychium Virginianum in bloom, about the bass in Fever-bush Swamp.”)

Some bass trees blossomed sparingly after all, for I see some fruit. See July 9, 1857 (“ I see no flowers on the bass trees by this river this year, nor at Conantum. ”); June 3, 1857 (“The bass at the Island will not bloom this year. (?)”)  See also A Book of Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Basswood

September 2, 2017

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau,

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

A light and graceful tree leaning over the Assabet

dog-tooth violet
May 21, 2017

May 21. 

Rains still, more or less, all day. But it is an ill wind that blows nobody any good; this weather is good for cuttings and transplanted trees. 

P. M. — To Hill. 

Sassafras (fertile) will apparently bloom to-morrow. These, too, — the young trees, — have been killed the past winter, like the fever-bush. 

There is, leaning over the Assabet at the Grape Bower, an amelanchier variety Botryapium about five inches in diameter and some twenty-eight feet long, a light and graceful tree. The leaves of this are, as usual, nearly smooth and quite brown, of a delicate tint (purplish?). 

At the spring just beyond, is another amelanchier, and other small ones are not uncommon, differing from the last, not in the form of its petals and leaves, but the latter are green, or very slightly streaked with purplish. It seems to be a common variety of the variety Botryapium and quite downy, though not so downy as those of the oblongifolia. The bark of these trees is much like that of a maple. 

I find checkerberries still fresh and abundant. Last year was a remarkable one for them. They lurk under the low leaves, scarcely to be detected, often, as you are standing up, almost below the level of the ground, dark-scarlet berries, some of them half an inch in diameter, broad pear-shaped, of a pale or hoary pink color beneath. The peduncle curves downward between two leaves. There they lurk under the glossy, dark-green, brown-spotted leaves, close to the ground. They make a very handsome nosegay.

I saw yesterday a parrot exceedingly frightened in its cage at a window. It rushed to the bars and struggled to get out. A piece of board had been thrown from the window above to the ground, which probably the parrot's instinct had mistaken for a hawk. Their eyes are very open to danger from above. 

The staminate buds of the black spruce are quite a bright red.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, May 21, 1857

It seems to be a common variety of the variety Botryapium and quite downy, though not so downy as those of the oblongifolia. See  May 9, 1852 ("The first shad-bush, Juneberry, or service-berry (Amclanchier canadensis), in blossom.").May 12, 1855 ("I now begin to distinguish where at a distance the Amelanchier Botryapium, with its white against the russet, is waving in the wind."); May 13, 1855 ("Saw an amelanchier with downy leaf (apparently oblongifolia) on the southeast edge of Yellow Birch Swamp, about eighteen feet high and five or six inches in diameter, —a clump of them about as big as an apple tree).

I find checkerberries still fresh and abundant. See March 4, 1854 (“The checkerberries are revealed, — somewhat shrivelled many of them.”);  March 10, 1855 ("Those reddening leaves, as the checkerberry, lambkill, etc., etc., which at the beginning of winter were greenish, are now a deeper red, when the snow goes off.”); April 1, 1857 (“Checkerberries very fair and abundant now near Muhlenbergii Brook”); May 15, 1856 (“Checker-berries very abundant on south side of Pine Hill, by pitch pine wood. Now is probably best time to gather them.”); -- see also June 12, 1857 (“Of the woods of the Cape which I walked through . . . are dry pine and oak woods, extensive but quite low, commonly, with an abundance of bear-berry and checkerberry in the more open parts, the latter forming an almost uninterrupted bed for great distances.”);  July 16, 1856 (“Checkerberry, a day or two”); August 25, 1851 (Checkerberry in bloom.”); October 8, 1856 (“Find many checker-berries on Smith's hill beyond the chestnut grove, which appear to be just ripe, a lighter pink color, with two little white checks on the stem side, the marks of what I suppose are the two outer calyx-leaves.”); October 15, 1856 (“An abundance of checkerberries by the hemlock at V. Muhlenbergii Brook. A remarkable year for berries.”); November 16, 1852 ("The partridge-berry leaves checker the ground on the side of moist hillsides in the woods. Are they not properly called checker-berries?");  November 19, 1850 ("Now that the grass is withered and the leaves are withered or fallen, it begins to appear what is evergreen the partridge-berry and checkerberry, and winter-green leaves even, are more conspicuous.”); December 23, 1855 (“At Lee’s Cliff I notice these radical(?) leaves quite fresh: saxifrage, sorrel, polypody, . . . checkerberry, wintergreen, . . .”).

Note: “checkerberry" is another name for American wintergreen (Gaultheria procumbens). See Checkerberry cum Wintergreen. and GoBotany.  What HDT calls  “wintergreen” is Chimaphila umbellata, a/k/a pipsissewa, See July 3, 1852 ("The Chimaphila umbellata, wintergreen, must have been in blossom some time.”);  November 16, 1858 (“Methinks the wintergreen, pipsissewa, is our handsomest evergreen, so liquid glossy green and dispersed almost all over the woods.”); May 21, 1860 ("Wintergreen had started the 18th at least")

The staminate buds of the black spruce are quite a bright red. See May 22, 1856 (“The red and cream-colored cone-shaped staminate buds of the black spruce will apparently shed pollen in one to three days? They are nearly half an inch long.”);

A wild apple tree in an old cellar-hole.

May 18. 

                                                           MAY 18, 2017

P. M. — To Bateman's Pond via Yellow Birch Swamp with Pratt. 

Pratt says he saw the first rhodora and cultivated pear out yesterday. 

Many are now setting out pines and other evergreens, transplanting some wildness into the neighborhood of their houses. I do not know of a white pine that has been set out twenty-five years in the town. It is a new fashion. 

Judging from the flowering of such of the plants as I notice, this is a backward season. 

There is a very grand and picturesque old yellow birch in the old cellar northwest the yellow birch swamp. Though this stands out in open land, it does not shed its pollen yet, and its catkins are not much more than half elongated, but it is very beautiful as it is, with its dark-yellowish tassels variegated with brown. 

Yet in the swamp westerly the yellow birches are in full bloom, and many catkins strew the ground. They are four or five inches long when in bloom. They begin to shed their pollen at the base of the catkin, as, I think, other birches do. 

In the yellow birch and ash swamp west of big yellow birch, I hear the fine note of cherry-birds, much like that of young partridges, and see them on the ash trees. 

Viola Muhlenbergii abundantly out, how long? 

The fever-bush in this swamp is very generally killed, at least the upper part, so that it has not blossomed. This is especially the case in the swamp; on higher ground, though exposed, it is in better condition. It appears to have been killed in the spring, for you see the unexpanded flower-buds quite conspicuous. 

Pratt shows me the fringed gentian stems by a swamp northeast of Bateman's Pond, but we find no traces of a new plant, and I think it must be annual there. 

The violet wood-sorrel is apparently later than the Oxalis stricta, not now so forward, lower, and darker green, only a few of the leaves showing that purplish mark. 

Hear the pepe, how long? 

In woods close behind Easterbrook's place, whence it probably strayed, several Canada plums now in bloom, showing the pink. Interesting to see a wild apple tree in the old cellar there, though with a forward caterpillar's nest on it. Call it Malus cellaris, that grows in an old cellar-hole.

Pedicularis, some time. 

The blossom-buds of the Cornus florida have been killed when an eighth of an inch in diameter, and are black within and fall on the least touch or jar; all over the town. There is a large tree on the further side the ravine near Bateman's Pond and another by some beeches on the rocky hillside a quarter of a mile northeast. 

In the swampy meadow north of this Pratt says he finds the calla. 

The Rubus triflorus is well out there on the hummocks. 

The white ash is not yet out in most favorable places.

The red huckleberry looks more forward — blossom-buds more swollen — than those of common there.

Some high blueberry. 

Pratt has found perfectly white Viola pedata behind Easterbrook place, and cultivated them, but now lost them. 

Says he saw two "black" snakes intertwined (copulating ?) yesterday.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, May 18, 1857

Pratt says he saw the first rhodora out yesterday. See  May 18, 1853 ("The rhodora is one of the very latest leafing shrubs, for its leaf-buds are but just expanding, making scarcely any show yet, but quite leafless amid the blossoms");  May 18, 1855 ("Rhodora; probably some yesterday.") May 18, 1856 ("The rhodora there [Kalmia Swamp] maybe to-morrow. Elsewhere I find it (on Hubbard’s meadow) to-day. ") See also May 14, 1859 ('Rhodora out, says C.")

Viola Muhlenbergii abundantly out, how long? See May 22, 1856 ("Viola Muhlenbergii . . . abundantly out; how long? A small pale-blue flower growing in dense bunches,”)

The yellow birches are in full bloom, and many catkins strew the ground. They are four or five inches long when in bloom. See May 17, 1857 ("The yellow birch catkins . . .hanging straight down at a height from the ground on the end of the pendulous branches, amid the just expanding leaf-buds. ") ; May 5, 1859 (“ You see a great tree all hung with long yellow or golden tassels at the end of its slender, drooping spray, in clusters at intervals of a few inches or a foot. These are all dangling and incessantly waving in the wind, — a great display of lively blossoms (lively both by their color and motion) without a particle of leaf”); See also A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau,  the Yellow Birch 

Pratt says he finds the calla. See June 7, 1857 (“Pratt has got the Calla palustris, in prime. . .from the bog near Bateman's Pond”); June 9, 1857 (“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." ”); July 2, 1957 (" Calla palustris . . . at the south end of Gowing's Swamp. Having found this in one place, I now find it in another.”); September 4, 1857 (To Baeman’s Pond . . .Arum berries ripe.”)

Pratt has found perfectly white Viola pedata . . . but now lost them. See May 18, 1854 ("The V. pedata beginning to be abundant. "). May 20, 1852 ("the V. pedata is smooth and pale-blue, delicately tinged with purple reflections").

Judging from the flowering of such of the plants as I notice, this is a backward season. The white ash is not yet out in most favorable places. See May 18, 1853 ("White ash fully in bloom.")

A wild apple tree

grows in an old cellar-hole –

Malus cellaris.

Grasshoppers trouble me by getting into my shoes.

September 4

P. M. — To Miles Swamp, Conantum. 

What are those small yellow birds with two white bars on wings, about the oak at Hubbard's Grove?

Aralia racemosa berries just ripe, at tall helianthus by bass beyond William Wheeler's; not edible. 

Indian hemp out of bloom. 

Butterflies in road a day or two. 

The crackling flight of grasshoppers. The grass also is all alive with them, and they trouble me by getting into my shoes, which are loose, and obliging me to empty them occasionally. 

Angelica archangelica

(wikipedia)

Measured an archangelica stem (now of course dry) in Corner Spring Swamp, eight feet eight inches high, and seven and a quarter inches in circumference at ground. It is a somewhat zigzag stem with few joints and a broad umbelliferous top, so that it makes a great show. One of those plants that have their fall early. 

There are many splendid scarlet arum berries there now in prime, forming a dense ovate head on a short peduncle; the individual berries of various sizes, between pear and mitre and club form, flattened against each other on a singular (now purple and white) core, which is hollow. What rank and venomous luxuriance in this swamp sprout-land! 

Viola pedata again. 

I see where squirrels have eaten green sweet viburnum berries on the wall, together with hazelnuts. The former, gathered red, turn dark purple and shrivelled, like raisins, in the house, and are edible, but chiefly seed. 

The fever-bush is conspicuously flower-budded. Even its spicy leaves have been cut by the tailor bee, and circular pieces taken out. He was, perhaps, attracted by its smoothness and soundness.             

Large puffballs, sometime.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, September 4, 1856

Aralia racemosa berries just ripe. . . not edible. See September 4, 1859 ("See a very large mass of spikenard berries fairly ripening, eighteen inches long.")

Indian hemp out of bloom. See note to September 2, 1856 ("Some years ago I sought for Indian hemp (Apocynum cannabinum) hereabouts in vain.”) See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Dogsbane and Indian hemp

Butterflies in road a day or two. See September 3, 1854 (“I see some fleets of yellow butterflies in the damp road after the rain, as earlier.”) See also A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Yellow Butterflies

The crackling flight of grasshoppers . . . getting into my shoes. See August 21, 1852 ("The grass . . . is alive with grasshoppers."); August 21, 1854 ("Have noticed winged grasshoppers or locusts a week or more.");  September 7, 1858 ("It is an early September afternoon . . . the thousands of grasshoppers leaping before you reflect gleams of light.")

Measured an archangelica stem . . . eight feet eight inches high. See October 19, 1859 ("Find the seedling archangelica grown about two feet high and still quite green and growing, though the full-grown plants are long since dead.")

Splendid scarlet arum berries there now in prime. See September 4, 1853 ("Arum in prime."); September 4, 1857 ("Arum berries ripe.") See also September 2, 1853 ("The dense oval bunches of arum berries now startle the walker in swamps. They are a brilliant vermilion on a rich ground.”) and A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Arum Berries

Viola pedata again. See August 12, 1858 (“Saw a Viola pedata blooming again.”); October 22, 1859 (" In the wood-path below the Cliffs I see perfectly fresh and fair Viola pedata flowers . . . No flower by its second blooming more perfectly brings back the spring to us.”); October 23, 1853 ("The Viola pedata looking up from so low in the wood-path makes a singular impression."); 

I see where squirrels have eaten green sweet viburnum berries on the wall, together with hazelnuts. See September 3, 1858 ("How important the hazelnut to the ground squirrel! They grow along the walls where the squirrels have their homes.")

Green sweet viburnum berries . . . gathered red, turn dark purple.  See August 31, 1851 ("The handsome sweet viburnum berries, now red on one cheek.");  September 11, 1859 ("The clusters of the Viburnum Lentago berries, now in their prime, are exceedingly and peculiarly handsome, and edible withal . . .  Each berry in the cyme is now a fine, clear red on the exposed side and a distinct and clear green on the opposite side. Many are already purple, and they turn in your hat, but they are handsomest when thus red and green.") See also A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Viburnums

He was, perhaps, attracted by its smoothness and soundness.  See August 11, 1852 ("I am attracted by the clear dark-green leaves of the fever-bush.”); August 19, 1852 (The clear dark-green leaves of the fever-bush overhang the stream.”); September 6, 1859 ("The fever-bush leaves are remarkably round and entire yet, as if by their odor defended from insects")

September 4. See A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau,  September 4

Archangelica –

broad umbelliferous top

on a zigzag stem.

I see on the wall, 

squirrels have eaten green sweet 

viburnum berries.

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau,  The crackling flight of grasshoppers

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-560904