No mortal is alert enough
to be present at the first dawn of the spring.
How imperceptibly
the first springing takes place!
Very few indeed,
even of botanists, are
aware of this growth.
March 3, 1859
March 2. Two or three tufts of carex have shot up in Hosmer’s cold spring ditch and been frost-bitten . . . The caltha leaves have grown decidedly. They make nearly a handful in one place, above the surface of the springy water, the leaves not yet quite flatted out, but curled up into a narrow ellipse. They barely peep above the water. March 2, 1860
March 3. I see in that ditch (call it Grassy Ditch) near John Hosmer's second spring south of Nut Meadow Brook much grass which has lately grown an inch or more and lies flat on the water. Is it the Glyceria fluitans? It is somewhat frost-bitten too. It fills the ditch like moss, as seen at a little distance. It must be a very springy ditch to be thus open entirely. Also, pretty near the spring, I see a tuft of carex (?) whose stiff glaucous points have risen several inches above the surface. See two small water-bugs at the spring; none elsewhere. I see apparently some callitriche, fresh, in the spring.
All the lower part of steep southern slopes of hills is now commonly bare, — though the snow may be pretty deep on the brow, — especially the springy bases where the skunk-cabbage, etc., grow.
How imperceptibly the first springing takes place!
In some still, muddy springs whose temperature is more equable than that of the brooks, while brooks and ditches are generally thickly frozen and concealed and the earth is covered with snow, and it is even cold, hard, and nipping winter weather, some fine grass which fills the water like a moss begins to lift its tiny spears or blades above the surface, which directly fall flat for half an inch or an inch along the surface, and on these (though many are frost-bitten) you may measure the length to which the spring has advanced, — has sprung.
Very few indeed, even of botanists, are aware of this growth. . .
You may see (as March 2d) a little green crescent of caltha leaves, raised an inch or so above the water. March 3, 1859
March 5. I see some tame ducks in the river, six of them. It is amusing to see how exactly perpendicular they will stand, with their heads on the bottom and their tails up, plucking some food there, three or four at once. Perhaps the grass, etc., is a little further advanced there for them. March 5, 1860
March 6. 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. The snow is now all off on meadow ground, in thick evergreen woods, and on the south sides of hills. March 6, 1854
March 8. You cannot say that vegetation absolutely ceases at any season in this latitude; for there is grass in some warm exposures and in springy places, always growing more or less, and willow catkins expanding and peeping out a little further every warm day from the very beginning of winter, and the skunk cabbage buds being developed and actually flowering sometimes in the winter, and the sap flowing [in] the maples in midwinter in some days, perhaps some cress growing a little (?), certainly some pads, and various naturalized garden weeds steadily growing if not blooming, and apple buds sometimes expanding. Thus much of vegetable life or motion or growth is to be detected every winter. There is something of spring in all seasons. March 8, 1860
March 15. I see in the ditches in Hubbard’s Close the fine green tips of spires of grass just rising above the surface of the water in one place, as if unwilling to trust itself to the frosty air. Favored by the warmth of the water and sheltered by the banks of the ditch, it has advanced thus far. But generally I see only the flaccid and floating frost-bitten tops of grass which apparently started that warm spell in February.. . It was the first green blush, as it were, — nay, it is purple or lake often, and a true blush, —of spring, of that Indian spring we had in February. An early dawn and premature blush of spring, at which I was not present. To be present at the instant when the springing grass at the bottoms of ditches lifts its spear above the surface and bathes in the spring air! Many a first faint crop mantling the pools thus early is mown down by the frost before the village suspects that vegetation has reawakened . . . As usual at this date and earlier, there are a few square rods of green grass tufts at Brister’s springs, like a green fire under the pines and alders, and in one place an apparent growth of golden saxifrage. March 15, 1857
March 17. A remarkably warm day for the season; too warm while surveying without my great coat; almost like May heats. The grass is slightly greened on south bank-sides — on the south side of the house. The first tinge of green appears to be due to moisture more than to direct heat. March 17, 1854
March 17. No mortal is alert enough to be present at the first dawn of the spring, but he will presently discover some evidence that vegetation had awaked some days at least before. Early as I have looked this year, perhaps the first unquestionable growth of an indigenous plant detected was the fine tips of grass blades which the frost had killed, floating pale and flaccid, though still attached to their stems, spotting the pools like a slight fall or flurry of dull-colored snowflakes After a few mild and sunny days, even in February, the grass in still muddy pools or ditches sheltered by the surrounding banks which reflect the heat upon it , ventures to lift the points of its green phalanx into the mild and flattering atmosphere, advances rapidly from the saffron even to the rosy tints of morning . But the following night comes the frost which with rude and ruthless hand ,sweeps the surface of the pool, and the advancing morning pales into the dim light of earliest dawn.
I thus detect the first approach of spring by finding here and there its scouts and vanguard which have been slain by the rear guard of retreating winter. March 17, 1857
March 19. The plants which have grown the most there — and they are very conspicuous now — are the forget-me-not , the Ranunculus repens (much more than any bulbosus), and a common sedge which already begins to yellow the top of some tussocks. The lower part of the hill at Minott's is decidedly green now. March 19, 1860
March 20. This is a slight, dripping, truly April-like rain. You hardly know whether to open your umbrella or not. More mist than rain; no wind, and the water perfectly smooth and dark, but ever and anon the cloud or mist thickens and darkens on one side, and there is a sudden rush of warm rain, which will start the grass . . . A. Buttrick said to-day that the black ducks come when the grass begins to grow in the meadows, i.e. in the water. March 20, 1860
March 22. The phenomena of an average March are increasing warmth, melting the snow and ice and. .. some greenness appearing on south bank . . .Vegetation fairly begins, – conferva and mosses, grass and carex, etc., — and gradually many early herbaceous plants start . . . First perceptible greenness on south banks, 22d. The skunk-cabbage begins to bloom (23d). . . and lake grass; and perchance the gooseberry and lilac begin to show a little green. That is, one indigenous native flower blooms. (Vide if the early sedge does.) March 22, 1860
March 24. It is too cold to think of those signs of spring which I find recorded under this date last year. The earliest signs of spring in vegetation noticed thus far are the maple sap, the willow catkins, grass on south banks, and perhaps cowslip in sheltered places. March 24, 1855
March 25. The grass is dense and green as ever, and the caltha blooms in sheltered springy places, being protected from frosts in the night, probably, by a vapor arising from the warm water. March 25, 1860
March 30. There is a very perceptible greenness on our south bank now, but I cannot detect the slightest greenness on the south side of Lee’s Hill as I sail by it. It is a perfectly dead russet March 30, 1855
March 30. In this warm recess at the head of the meadow, though the rest of the meadow is covered with snow a foot or more in depth, I am surprised to see . . . the Caltha palustris bud, which shows yellowish; and the golden saxifrage, green and abundant . . .I can just see a little greening on our bare and dry south bank. In warm recesses and clefts in meadows and rocks in the midst of ice and snow, nay, even under the snow, vegetation commences and steadily advances.March 30, 1856
So I came in and
shut the door and passed my first
spring night in the woods.
"A book, each page written in its own season,
out-of-doors, in its own locality."
~edited, assembled and rewritten by zphx © 2009-2024
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