A Book of the Seasons: The Season of Sunny Water

 

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

July 17, 2015

July 18. A hot midsummer day with a sultry mistiness in the air and shadows on land and water beginning to have a peculiar distinctness and solidity. I do not know why the water should be so remarkably clear and the sun shine through to the bottom of the river, making it so plain. Methinks the air is not clearer nor the sun brighter, yet the bottom is unusually distinct and obvious in the sun. There seems to be no concealment for the fishes. On all sides, as I float along, the recesses of the water and the bottom are unusually revealed, and I see the fishes and weeds and shells. I look down into the sunny water. July 18, 1854

July 27. The water has begun to be clear and sunny, revealing the fishes and countless minnows of all sizes and colors, this year's brood. July 27, 1860

July 28. The season has now arrived when I begin to see further into the water, -- see the bottom, the weeds, and fishes more than before. I can see the bottom when it is five and a half feet deep even, see the fishes scuttling in and out amid the weeds.  July 28, 1859

July 30. This is a perfect dog-day. The atmosphere thick, mildewy, cloudy. The water is suddenly clear, as if clarified by the white of an egg or lime. I think it must be because the light is reflected downward from the overarching dog-day sky. It assists me very much as I go looking for the ceratophyllum, potamogetons, etc. All the secrets of the river bottom are revealed. I look down into sunny depths which before were dark. The wonderful clearness of the water, enabling you to explore the river bottom and many of its secrets now, exactly as if the water had been clarified. This is our compensation for a heaven concealed. The air is close and still. July 30, 1856

July 30. This dog-day weather I can see the bottom where five and a half feet deep. At five feet it is strewn clear across with sium, heart-leaf, Ranunculus Purshii, etc. It is quite green and verdurous, especially with the first. I see the fishes moving leisurely about amid the weeds, their affairs revealed, especially perch, — some large ones prowling there; and pickerel, large and small, lie imperturbable. I see more moss (?) covered rocks on the bottom and some rising quite near the surface, — three or four between my boat's place and thirty rods above, — and a good many three feet over on the bottom, revealed in the sunny water, and little suspected before. July 30, 1859

August 8. This is a day of sunny water . . . I look down a rod and see distinctly the fishes and the bottom. August 8, 1854

August 8. The river, now that it is so clear and sunny, is better than any aquarium. August 8, 1859

Now is the season

I begin to see further

into the water.

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Season of Sunny Water

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-sunnyh2o

A Book of the Seasons: July 28 (the season of sunny water, midsummer blues, berries, late birds, asters and goldenrods)

 

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

July 28

Yellowish light now.

Tufted yellowish broad-leaved

grass in new mown fields.

July 28, 1852

Goldenrod, asters

grasshoppers now abundant,

cooler breezy air.

July 28, 1852

Ripe sand cherry fruit

droops from peduncles in

umble-like clusters.

July 28, 1856

Evenings are longer

now and the cooler weather

make them improvable.

July 28, 1852

At year’s afternoon

we descend toward winter

all our hopes postponed.

July 28, 1854

We made this island 

the limit of our excursion 

in this direction. 

The Maine Woods

Now is the season

I begin to see further

into the water.

July 28, 1859

July 28, 2018

They tell of eagles flying low over the island lately. July 28, 1851

The season has now arrived when I begin to see further into the water, -- see the bottom, the weeds, and fishes more than before. July 28, 1859. 

Last evening it was much cooler, and I heard a decided fall sound of crickets. July 28, 1854

When we awoke, we found a heavy dew on our blankets. I lay awake very early, and listened to the clear, shrill ah, te te, te te, te of the white-throated sparrow, repeated at short intervals, without the least variation, for half an hour. The Maine Woods July 28, 1857

The sweet and plaintive note of the pewee (wood pewee) is now prominent, since most other birds are more hushed. July 28, 1859.  

Saw young martins being fed on a bridge-rail yesterday. July 28, 1859

Young purple finches eating mountain-ash berries. July 28, 1859

Cherry-bird common.  July 28, 1854 .  

The kingbirds eat currants.  July 28, 1859.  

Red-eye and chewink common. July 28, 1854 . 

Partridges begin to go off in packs. July 28, 1854 .  

Hear part of the song of what sounds and looks like a rose-breasted grosbeak. July 28, 1859.

Heard a kingfisher, which had been hovering over the river, plunge forty rods off. July 28, 1858

We were glad to find on this carry some raspberries, and a few of the Vaccinium Canadense berries, which had begun to be ripe here. July 28, 1857

Nightshade berries begin to ripen, — to be red. July 28, 1853

Sand cherry ripe. The fruit droops in umble-like clusters, two to four peduncles together, on each side the axil of a branchlet or a leaf. Emerson and Gray call it dark-red. It is black when ripe. July 28, 1856

The under sides of maples are very bright and conspicuous nowadays as you walk, also of the curled panicled andromeda leaves. Some grape leaves, also, are blown up. July 28, 1858

What is that slender hieracium or aster-like plant in woods on Corner road with lanceolate, coarsely feather-veined leaves, sessile and remotely toothed; minute, clustered, imbricate buds (?) or flowers and buds? Panicled hieracium? July 28, 1852

That low hieracium, hairy, especially the lower part, with several hairy, obovate or oblanceolate leaves, remotely, very slightly, toothed, and glandular hairs on peduncles and calyx, a few heads, some days at least. July 28, 1853

Gerardia flava, apparently several days. July 28, 1856

The Gerardia flava in the hickory grove behind Lee's Cliff, some days. . . . Have I seen the G. quercifolia? July 28, 1853

Epilobium coloratum, roadside just this side of Dennis's. July 28, 1852

From wall corner saw a pinkish patch on side-hill west of Baker Farm, which turned out to be epilobium, . . .This pink flower was distinguished perhaps three quarters of a mile. July 28, 1858

There is a yellowish light now from a low, tufted, yellowish, broad-leaved grass, in fields that have been mown. July 28, 1852

Grasshoppers are very abundant, several to every square foot in some fields. July 28, 1852

Aster Radula (?) in J. P. Brown's meadow. July 28, 1852

Solidago altissima (?) beyond the Corner Bridge, out some days at least, but not rough-hairy. July 28, 1852

Goldenrod and asters have fairly begun; there are several kinds of each out. July 28, 1852

Enough has not been said of the beauty of the shrub oak leaf (Quercus ilicifolia), of a thick, firm texture, for the most part uninjured by insects, intended to last all winter; of a glossy green above and now silky downy beneath, fit for a wreath or crown. 

July 28, 1852

By factory road clearing, the small rough sunflower, two or three days. July 28, 1856. 

The evenings are now sensibly longer, and the cooler weather makes them improvable. July 28, 1852

Veery and wood thrush not very lately, nor oven-bird.  July 28, 1854. 

Methinks the season culminated about the middle of this month, — that the year was of indefinite promise before, but that, after the first intense heats, we postponed the fulfillment of many of our hopes for this year, and, having as it were attained the ridge of the summer, commenced to descend the long slope toward winter, the afternoon and down-hill of the year. July 28, 1854 

We made this island the limit of our excursion in this direction. The Maine Woods July 28, 1857

July 28, 2022
*****

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Season of Sunny Water.

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Shrub Oak

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Helianthus

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Veery

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Wood Thrush

 A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Oven-bird

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Red-eyed Vireo;

  A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Chewink  (Rufous-sided Towhee)

  A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Rose-breasted Grosbeak

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Partridge

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Cherry-bird (cedar waxwing)

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Eastern Wood-Pewee

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the Eastern Kingbird

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, July Moods

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Midsummer midlife blues

June 12, 1854 (“[The kingfisher] hovers two or three times thirty or forty feet above the pond, and at last dives ”)

July 13, 1854. ("I hear the hot-weather and noonday birds, -- red eye, tanager, wood pewee, etc")

July 18, 1854 ("Methinks the asters and goldenrods begin, like the early ripening leaves, with midsummer heats.")

July 23, 1854 ("There is a peculiar light reflected from the shorn fields, as later in the fall, when rain and coolness have cleared the air.")

July 24, 1852("There is a short, fresh green on the shorn fields, the aftermath. When the first crop of grass is off, and the aftermath springs, the year has passed its culmination ")

July 24, 1853 ("The nighthawk squeaks, and the chewink jingles his strain, and the wood thrush; but I think there is no loud and general serenade from the birds.")

July 24, 1857 (“Great fields of epilobium or fire-weed, a mass of color.)

July 24, 1860 ("Many a field where the grass has been cut shows now a fresh and very lit-up light green as you look toward the sun.")

July 25, 1854 (I now start some packs of partridges, old and young, going off together without mewing.)

July 26, 1853 ("I mark again, about this time when the first asters open. . . This the afternoon of the year.")

July 26, 1853 ("How apt we are to be reminded of lateness, even before the year is half spent! This the afternoon of the year.")

July 27, 1852 ("Have I heard the veery lately?")

  July 27, 1852 ("How cool and assuaging the thrush's note after the fever of the day!")

July 27, 1853 ("The drought ceases with the dog-days.")

July 27, 1860 ("The water has begun to be clear and sunny, revealing the fishes and countless minnows of all sizes and colors”)

July 29, 1853 (“The sight of the small rough sunflower about a dry ditch bank and hedge advances me at once further toward autumn.”)

July 30, 1852 ("How long since I heard a veery? Do they go, or become silent, when the goldfinches herald the autumn? ")

July 30 1852 (After midsummer we have a belated feeling  and are forward to see in each sight and hear in each sound some presage of the fall, just as in middle age man anticipates the end of life.")

July 30, 1853 ("The wood thrush still sings and the peawai.")

July 30, 1856 ("The wonderful clearness of the water, enabling you to explore the river bottom and many of its secrets now.”)

July 31, 1856 ("Hieracium paniculatum by Gerardia quercifolia path in woods under Cliffs, two or three days.")

July 31, 1857 ("Soon afterward a white-headed eagle sailed down the stream before us.")

July 31, 1856 ("Thoughts of autumn occupy my mind, and the memory of past years.") 

August 2, 1854("a peawai and a chewink. Meanwhile the moon in her first quarter is burnishing her disk")

August 6, 1852 ("With the goldenrod comes the goldfinch. About the time his cool twitter is heard, does not the bobolink, thrasher, catbird, oven-bird, veery, etc. cease?")

August 6, 1852 ("A solitary peawai may be heard, perchance, or a red-eye, but no thrashers, or catbirds, or oven-birds, or the jingle of the chewink.")

August 9, 1856 (“The notes of the wood pewee and warbling vireo are more prominent of late, and of the goldfinch twittering over.”)

August 10, 1860 ("Sand cherry is well ripe — some of it — and tolerable, better than the red cherry or choke-cherry.")

August 20, 1851 ("Where the brook issues from the pond, the nightshade grows profusely, spreading five or six feet each way, with its red berries now ripe.")

July 28, 2017

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.

  April 7, 1853 

 July 27    < <<<<  July 28  >>>>>   July 29

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau,   July 28

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

Nightshade berries begin to ripen

July 28. 

7 A. M. – To Azalea Brook.

The mikania is hardly out yet; like the eupatoriums, shows its color long before it opens.

The vernonia not quite yet.

The lilies, though a little less numerous, appear freer from insects than at first. Their pads not so much eaten as those of the nuphar.

The pickerel-weed has passed its prime.

The pettymorel at the brook not out, though that by the Corner Spring has berries.

P. M. – To Clematis Brook via Lee's with Mr. Conway.

Tells me of a kind of apple tree with very thick leaves near the houses in Virginia called the tea-tree, under which they take tea, even through an ordinary shower, it sheds the rain so well, and there the table constantly stands in warm weather.

The Gerardia flava in the hickory grove behind Lee's Cliff, some days. Answers apparently in every respect to the above, yet its lower leaves are like narrow white oak leaves. Have I seen the G. quercifolia? 

Is that the Cicuta bulbifera just out at Clematis Brook, with decompound leaves and linear leafets fringe toothed?? 

That low hieracium, hairy, especially the lower part, with several hairy, obovate or oblanceolate leaves, remotely, very slightly, toothed, and glandular hairs on peduncles and calyx, a few heads, some days at least. Vide herbarium.

Saw lower leaves of the white vervain turned a reddish lake or claret.

Nightshade berries begin to ripen, — to be red.

Is that rather coarse flower about Mrs. Brooks's house (escaped from cultivation), called Bouncing Bet, and which has been open ten days or more, Saponaria Vaccaria, — cow-herb?

The mullein pink is also escaped from gardens thereabouts.

Aster linariifolius.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 28, 1853

The Gerardia flava in the hickory grove behind Lee's Cliff .See July 28, 1856 (Gerardia flava, apparently several days.) See also July 22, 1854 ("Gerardia flava, apparently two or three days, Lupine Hillside up railroad, near fence") [Gerardia flava now know as Aureolaria flava (smooth false foxglove)]

That low hieracium, hairy, especially the lower part, with several hairy, obovate or oblanceolate leaves. some days at least.  See July 28, 1852 ("What is that slender hieracium or aster-like plant in woods on Corner road with lanceolate, coarsely feather-veined leaves, sessile and remotely toothed; minute, clustered, imbricate buds (?) or flowers and buds? Panicled hieracium?") See also  July 31, 1856 ("Hieracium paniculatum by Gerardia quercifolia path in woods under Cliffs, two or three days."); August 21, 1851 ("Hieracium paniculatum, a very delicate and slender hawkweed. I have now found all the hawkweeds. Singular these genera of plants, plants manifestly related yet distinct. They suggest a history to nature, a natural history in a new sense.") See also A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Hawkweeds (hieracium)

Saw lower leaves of the white vervain turned a reddish lake or claret. See August 6, 1853 ("lower leaves of some catnip and a white vervain have turned.")

Nightshade berries begin to ripen, — to be red. See August 5, 1856 ("Nightshade berries, how long?"); August 20, 1851 ("Where the brook issues from the pond, the nightshade grows profusely, spreading five or six feet each way, with its red berries now ripe."); September 26, 1859 ("I do not know any clusters more graceful and beautiful than these drooping cymes of scarlet or translucent cherry-colored elliptical berries"); October 15, 1859 ("Solanum Dulcamara berries linger over water but mostly are shrivelled")

Aster linariifolius. See July 29, 1852 ("That common rigid narrow-leaved faint-purplish aster in dry woods by shrub oak path, Aster linariifolius of Bigelow, but it is not savory leaved. I do not find it in Gray. "); see also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Savory-leaved aster

July 28. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, July 28

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

A pinkish patch on side-hill.

July 28. 

July 28, 2018

P. M.—-To Conantum. 

From wall corner saw a pinkish patch on side-hill west of Baker Farm, which turned out to be epilobium, a rod across. Through the glass it was as fine as a moss, but with the naked eye it might have been mistaken for a dead pine bough. This pink flower was distinguished perhaps three quarters of a mile.

Heard a kingfisher, which had been hovering over the river, plunge forty rods off. 

The under sides of maples are very bright and conspicuous nowadays as you walk, also of the curled panicled andromeda leaves. Some grape leaves, also, are blown up.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 28, 1858

A pinkish patch on side-hill  west of Baker Farm, which turned out to be epilobium, distinguished perhaps three quarters of a mile. See July 28, 1852 ("Epilobium coloratum, roadside just this side of Dennis's"); August 21, 1858 ("I still see the patch of epilobium on Bee Tree Hill as plainly as ever, though only the pink seed-vessels and stems are left"): See also July 24, 1857 (“Great fields of epilobium or fire-weed, a mass of color.); July 31, 1856 (“Dense fields of the great epilobium now in its prime, like soldiers in the meadow, resounding with the hum of bees.”)

Heard a kingfisher, which had been hovering over the river, plunge forty rods off. See June 12, 1854 (“As he flies off, he hovers two or three times thirty or forty feet above the pond, and at last dives ”); August 6, 1858 ("The kingfisher is seen hovering steadily over one spot, or hurrying away with a small fish in his mouth, sounding his alarum nevertheless.")  See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau. The Kingfisher

July 28. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, July 28

From wall corner saw 

a pinkish patch on side-hill 

west of Baker Farm

turned out to be 

epilobium

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

We made this island the limit of our excursion in this direction.

July 28.

Tuesday. 

July 28, 2017

As I remember, Hodge mistakes when he says that "it [Chamberlain Lake] is erroneously represented on the charts, for it extends in a north-northeasterly, south-southwesterly direction about twelve miles." He appears to be thinking of the easterly part. 

On the north side there is quite a clearing, and we had been advised to ascend the bare hill there for the sake of the prospect. . . . 

Great trunks of trees stood dead and bare far out in the lake, making the impression of ruined piers of a city that had been, while behind, the timber lay criss-a-cross for half a dozen rods or more over the water. . . . 

We were glad to find on this carry some raspberries, and a few of the Vaccinium Canadense berries, which had begun to be ripe here.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal July 28, 1857

See The Maine Woods ("When we awoke, we found a heavy dew on our blankets. I lay awake very early, and listened to the clear, shrill ah, te te, te te, te of the white-throated sparrow, repeated at short intervals, without the least variation, for half an hour, as if it could not enough express its happiness. Whether my companions heard it or not, I know not, but it was a kind of matins to me, and the event of that forenoon.

It was a pleasant sunrise, and we had a view of the mountains in the southeast. Ktaadn appeared about southeast by south.. . .we crossed the lake early, steering in a diagonal direction, northeasterly about four miles, to the outlet, which was not to be discovered till we were close to it. The Indian name, Apmoojenegamook, means lake that is crossed, because the usual course lies across, and not along it. This is the largest of the Allegash lakes, and was the first St. John water that we floated on. . . . We reached the outlet in about an hour, and carried over the dam there, which is quite a solid structure, and about one quarter of a mile farther there was a second dam. The reader will perceive that the result of this particular damming about Chamberlain Lake is, that the head-waters of the St. John are made to flow by Bangor. . . Below the last dam, the river being swift and shallow, though broad enough, we two walked about half a mile to lighten the canoe. . . .We were now fairly on the Allegash River, which name our Indian said meant hemlock bark. These waters flow northward about one hundred miles, at first very feebly, then southeasterly two hundred and fifty more to the Bay of Fundy . . . After perhaps two miles of river, we entered Heron Lake, called on the map Pongokwahem . . . This was the fourth great lake, lying northwest and southeast, like Chesuncook and most of the long lakes in that neighborhood, and, judging from the map, it is about ten miles long . . . 

Rounding a point, we stood across a bay for a mile and a half or two miles, toward a large island, three or four miles down the lake . . . We landed on the southeast side of the island, which was rather elevated and densely wooded, with a rocky shore, in season for an early dinner . . .

We made this island the limit of our excursion in this direction. We had now seen the largest of the Allegash lakes . . . 

This island, according to the map, was about a hundred and ten miles in a straight line north-northwest from Bangor, and about ninety-nine miles east-south east from Quebec. I rambled along the shore westward, which was quite stony, and obstructed with fallen, bleached, or drifted trees for four or five rods in width. I found growing on this broad, rocky, and gravelly shore the Salix rostrata, discolor, and lucida, Ranunculus recurvatus, Potentilla Norvegica, Scutellaria lateriflora, Eupatorium purpureum, Aster Tradescanti, Mentha Canadensis, Epilobium angustifolium (abundant), Lycopus sinuatus, Solidago lanceolata, Spiraa salicifolia, Antennaria margaraticea, Prunella, Rumex Acetosella, raspberries, wool-grass, Onoclea, etc. The nearest trees were Betula papyracea and excelsa, and Populus tremuloides. I give these names because it was my farthest northern point. . . .it clearing off, we resolved to start immediately, before the wind raised them again.. . .. At the outlet of Chamberlain Lake we were over taken by another gusty rain-storm, . . .At length, just before sunset, we set out again. It was a wild evening when we coasted up the north side of this Apmoojenegamook Lake. One. . .we were glad to reach, at length, in the dusk, the cleared shore of the Chamberlain Farm.. . .It is remarkable with what pure satisfaction the traveler in these woods will reach his camping-ground on the eve of a tempestuous night like this,. . .A shed-shaped tent will catch and reflect the heat like a Yankee baker, and you may be drying while you are sleeping. Some who have leaky roofs in the towns may have been kept awake, but we were soon lulled asleep by a steady, soaking rain, which lasted all night.")

July 28. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, July 28

We made this island 

the limit of our excursion 

in this direction.

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, the limit of our excursion

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

Ripe sand cherry.

July 28

At 1.30 a thunder-shower, which was much needed, the corn having rolled and trees suffered. 

3.30 p. m. — To Climbing Fern.

Virgin's-bower, apparently two or three days.

Nabalus albus, a day or two. 

Sand cherry ripe. The fruit droops in umble-like clusters, two to four peduncles together, on each side the axil of a branchlet or a leaf. Emerson and Gray call it dark-red. It is black when ripe. 

Emerson, Gray, and Bigelow speak of it as rare in this State! It is common enough here. I have seen it as abundant as anywhere on Weir (or Ware) Hill in Sudbury, Bigelow's own town. 

Cherry three eighths of an inch diameter, peduncle seven sixteenths long. Emerson calls it eatable! 

On Linnaea Hill. By factory road clearing, the small rough sunflower, two or three days. 

Gerardia flava, apparently several days.

Cicuta bulbosa, several days. 

Richweed at Brown's oak, several days (since 16th; say 22d).

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 28, 1856

To Climbing Fern. See November 24, 1851 ("Found on the south side of the [Ministerial] swamp the Lygodium palmatum, which Bigelow calls the only climbing fern in our latitude, an evergreen."); November 30, 1851 (“The Lygodium palmatum is quite abundant on that side of the swamp, twining round the goldenrods”); August 14, 1854 ("3 P.M. To climbing fern with E. Hoar. It takes a good deal of care and patience to unwind this fern without injuring it"); October 2, 1859 (“The climbing fern is perfectly fresh, — and apparently therefore an evergreen, — the more easily found amid the withered cinnamon and flowering ferns.”); May 1, 1859 ("The climbing fern is persistent, i. e. retains its greenness still, though now partly brown and withered.")

Nabalus albus, a day or two. See September 6, 1851 ("Gray calls Nabalus albus, white lettuce or rattlesnake-root.");  August 27, 1858 ("The Nabalus albus has been out some ten days,"); September 13, 1857 ("The nabalus family generally, apparently now in prime"); September 17, 1857 (“I go to Fair Haven Hill, looking at the varieties of nabalus, which have a singular prominence now in all woods and roadsides. ”); September 23, 1857 ("Varieties of nabalus grow along the Walden road in the woods; also, still more abundant, by the Flint's Pond road in the woods.”)

Sand cherry ripe. See August 10, 1860 ("Sand cherry is well ripe — some of it — and tolerable, better than the red cherry or choke-cherry.")

By factory road clearing, the small rough sunflower, two or three days. See July 29, 1853 (“The sight of the small rough sunflower about a dry ditch bank and hedge advances me at once further toward autumn.”); August 1, 1852 ("The small rough sunflower (Helianthus divaricatus) tells of August heats”); August 1, 1855 ("Small rough sunflower a day or two.”)

Gerardia flava, apparently several days. See July 28, 1853 ("The Gerardia flava in the hickory grove behind Lee's Cliff.") See also July 22, 1854 ("Gerardia flava, apparently two or three days, Lupine Hillside up railroad, near fence") [Gerardia flava now know as Aureolaria flava (smooth false foxglove)]

July 28. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, July 28

Sand cherry. Ripe fruit

droops from peduncles in

umble-like clusters.

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Ripe sand cherry. 

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-560728