Great purple fringed orchis..

June 20. 

River, on account of rain, some two feet above summer level. 

Great purple fringed orchis. 

What that colored-flowered locust in Deacon Farrar's yard and house this side Lincoln?

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, June 20, 1859

Two feet above summer level. Compare June 20, 1860 ("More rain falls to-day than any day since March, if not this year."); June 23, 1860 ("At 7 p. m. the river is fifteen and three fourths inches above summer level.")

Great purple fringed orchis. See: June 8, 1853 ("The great fringed orchis just open.");  June 9, 1854 ("Find the great fringed orchis out apparently two or three days. Two are almost fully out, two or three only budded.")  June 12, 1853 ("Visited the great [purple fringed] orchis. . . its great spike, six inches by two, of delicate pale-purple flowers, which begin to expand at bottom, rises above and contrasts with the green leaves of the hellebore and skunk-cabbage and ferns. . . in the cool shade of an alder swamp."); June 13, 1853 ("some rare and beautiful flower, which you may never find again, perchance, like the great purple fringed orchis, ");  June 15, 1852 ("Here also, at Well Meadow Head, I see the fringed purple orchis, unexpectedly beautiful, though a pale lilac purple, — a large spike of purple flowers.. . .  Is it not significant that some rare and delicate and beautiful flowers should be found only in unfrequented wild swamps ? . . .. The most striking and handsome large wild-flower of the year thus far that I have seen.");June 16, 1854 ("It is eight days since I plucked the great orchis; one is perfectly fresh still in my pitcher. It may be plucked when the spike is only half opened, and will open completely and keep perfectly fresh in a pitcher more than a week. ") See also A Book of Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Purple Fringed Orchids

What that colored-flowered locust. Compare June 7, 1854 ("The locusts so full of pendulous white racemes five inches long, filling the air with their sweetness and resounding with the hum of humble and honey bees")

June 20. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, June 20

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 © 2009-2021

Robins fly in flocks.

August 27. 

P. M. — To Walden. 

Dog-day weather again to-day, of which we had had none since the 18th, — i. e. clouds without rain. 

Wild carrot on railroad, apparently in prime. 
Hieracium Canadense, apparently in prime, and perhaps H. scabrum.

Lactuca, apparently much past prime, or nearly done. 

The Nabalus albus has been out some ten days, but N. Fraseri at Walden road will not open, apparently, for some days yet. 

I see round-leaved cornel fruit on Heywood Peak, now half China-blue and half white, each berry. 

Rhus Toxicodendron there is half of it turned scarlet and yellow, as if we had had a severe drought, when it has been remarkably wet. It seems, then, that in such situations some plants will always assume this prematurely withered autumnal aspect. 

Orchis lacera, probably done some time. 

Robins fly in flocks. 

Apparently Juncus tenuis, some time out of bloom, by depot wood-piles, i. e. between south wood-shed and good apple tree; some fifteen inches high. More at my boat’s shore.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, August 27, 1858

N. Fraseri at Walden road will not open, apparently, for some days yet. See September 13, 1857 (“Nabalus Fraseri, top of Cliffs, — a new plant, ”); 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.”)

Cornel fruit on Heywood Peak, now half China-blue and half white, each berry. See August 28, 1856 ("The bright china-colored blue berries of the Cornus sericea begin to show themselves along the river. .”)

Rhus Toxicodendron there is half of it turned scarlet and yellow, as if we had had a severe drought.  See September 30, 1857 (“Rhus Toxicodendron turned yellow and red, handsomely dotted with brown.”)

Orchis lacera, probably done some time. See July 13, 1856 ("Orchis lacera, apparently several days, lower part of spike, willow-row, Hubbard side, opposite Wheildon's land")

Botanizing the East Branch

July 31. 

Friday. 

This morning heard from the camp the red-eye, robin (P. said it was a sign of rain), tweezer-bird, i. e. parti-colored warbler, chickadee, wood thrush, and soon after starting heard or saw a blue jay. . . . 

I saw here my sweet-scented Aster macrophyllus (?) just out, also, near end of carry in rocky woods, a new plant, the halenia or spurred gentian, which I observed afterward on the carries all the way down to near the mouth of the East Branch, eight inches to two feet high. 

I also saw here, or soon after, the red cohosh berries, ripe, (for the first time in my life); spikenard, etc. 

The commonest aster of the woods was A. acuminatus, not long out, and the commonest solidago on the East Branch, Solidago squarrosa. . . .

P. said that his mother was a Province woman and as white as anybody, but his father a pure-blooded Indian. I saw no trace of white blood in his face, and others, who knew him well and also his father, were confident that his mother was an Indian and suggested that she was of the Quoddy tribe (belonged to New Brunswick), who are often quite light-colored. . . . 

[Below Bowlin stream] I got  one (apparently) Lilium superbum flower, with strongly revolute sepals and perfectly smooth leaves beneath, otherwise not large nor peculiar. 

On this East Branch we saw many of the small purple fringed orchis (Platanthera psycodes), but no large ones (P. fimbriata), which alone were noticed on the West Branch and Umbazookskus. 

Also saw often the Lysimachia ciliata, and once white cohosh berries, and at one place methinks the Vaccinium Pennsylvanicum (?) with the other. . . . 

On a small bare sand or gravel bar, I observed that same Prunus which grows on the rocks at Bellows Falls, whose leaf might at first sight be mistaken for that of a willow. It is evidently the Prunus depressa (sand cherry) of Pursh, and distinct, as a variety at least, from the common allied one (P. pumila of Pursh), which is not depressed even when it grows, as it often does abundantly, in river meadows (e. g. Edmund Hosmer's on Assabet). The leaf of the former is more lanceoate-spatulate, and I have never seen it in Concord, though the P. pumila is very common here. Gray describes but one kind. 

Jackson, being some miles below this, in the East Branch, the 6th of October, twenty years ago, says, "There are several small gravelly islands covered with a profusion of deep purple beach plums, but since they had been frozen they were found to be taste less and insipid." We did not see any of these.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 31, 1857

See The Maine Woods ("We had smooth but swift water for a considerable distance, where we glided rapidly along, scaring up ducks and kingfishers. But, as usual, our smooth progress ere long came to an end, and we were obliged to carry canoe and all about half a mile down the right bank, around some rapids or falls. . . .I cannot tell how many times we had to walk on account of falls or rapids. We were expecting all the while that the river would take a final leap and get to smooth water, but there was no improvement this fore noon. However, the carries were an agreeable variety. So surely as we stepped out of the canoe and stretched our legs we found ourselves in a blueberry and raspberry garden, each side of our rocky trail around the falls being lined with one or both.. . . For seven or eight miles below that succession of " Grand " falls, the aspect of the banks as well as the character of the stream was changed. After passing a tributary from the northeast, perhaps Bowlin Stream, we had good swift smooth water, with a regular slope, such as I have described. Low, grassy banks and muddy shores began.. . Soon afterward a white-headed eagle sailed down the stream before us. We drove him several miles, while we were looking for a good place to camp, for we expected to be overtaken by a shower, — and still we could distinguish him by his white tail, sailing away from time to time from some tree by the shore still farther down the stream... . We at length found a place to our minds, on the west bank, about a mile below the mouth of the Seboois, ...in a very dense spruce wood above a gravelly shore... .")

Thimble-berries are now fairly ripe and abundant

July 13

P. M. — To Corner Spring. 

Orchis lacera, apparently several days, lower part of spike, willow-row, Hubbard side, opposite Wheildon's land. 

See quite a large flock of chattering red-wings, the flight of first broods. 

Thimble-berries are now fairly ripe and abundant along walls, to be strung on herd's-grass, but not much flavor to them; honest and wholesome. See where the mowers have plucked them. Gather the large black and blackening ones. No drought has shrivelled them this year. 

Heard yesterday a sharp and loud ker-pheet, I think from a surprised woodchuck, amid bushes, — the siffleur. Reminds me somewhat of a peetweet, and also of the squeak of a rabbit, but much louder and sharper. And all is still. 

Hubbard's meadow — or I will call it early meadow-aster, some days, now rather slender and small- bushed. Drosera longifolia and also rotundifolia, some time. Polygala sanguinea, some time, Hubbard's Meadow Path; say meadow-paths and banks. 

Saw and heard two or three redstarts at Redstart Woods, where they probably have nests. 

Have noticed bright-red geranium and pyrus leaves a week or more. 

In Hubbard's euphorbia pasture, cow blackbirds about cows. At first the cows were resting and ruminating in the shade, and no birds were seen. Then one after another got up and went to feeding, straggling into the midst of the field. With a chattering appeared a cowbird, and, with a long slanting flight, lit close to a cow's nose, within the shadow of it, and watched for insects, the cow still eating along and almost hitting it, taking no notice of it. Soon it is joined by two or three more birds. 

An abundance of spurry in the half-grown oats adjoining, apparently some time out. 

Yellow lily, how long? 

Am surprised to see an Aster laevis, out a day or two, in road on sandy bank. 

Goldfinches twitter over. 

Hydrocotyle, some time. 


H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 13, 1856

See quite a large flock of chattering red-wings, the flight of first broods. See July 11, 1856 ("Hear now the link of bobolinks, and see quite a flock of red-wing blackbirds and young."); July 15, 1854 ("We seem to be passing, or to have passed, a dividing line between spring and autumn . . . Many birds begin to fly in small flocks like grown-up broods."); July 22, 1855 ("See small flocks of red-wings, young and old, now, over the willows."); July 29, 1859 ("See large flocks of red-wings now, the young grown.")

Thimble-berries are now fairly ripe and abundant . . . No drought has shrivelled them this year. See July 4, 1852 ("One thimble-berry which will be quite ripe by to-morrow.");  July 18, 1854 ("Every bush and bramble bears its fruit; the sides of the road are a fruit garden; blackberries, huckleberries, thimble-berries, fresh and abundant, no signs of drought; all fruits in abundance; the earth teems.") 

Saw and heard two or three redstarts at Redstart Woods, where they probably have nests. See June 23, 1855 ("Probably a redstart’s nest on a white oak sapling, twelve feet up, on forks against stem. Have it. See young redstarts about.”); July 8, 1857 ("To Laurel Glen. . . . Hear apparently redstarts there, — so they must have nests near")  See also A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The American Redstart

Heard yesterday a sharp and loud ker-pheet, I think from a surprised woodchuck, amid bushes, — the siffleur. See July 14, 1845 ("Alek Therien, he called himself; a Canadian now, a woodchopper, a post-maker; makes fifty posts—holes them, i. e.—in a day; and who made his last supper on a woodchuck which his dog caught. And he too has heard of Homer, and if it were not for books, would not know what to do rainy days.")

A cowbird. . . lit close to a cow's nose, within the shadow of it, and watched for insects. See August 25, 1855 ("I count about one hundred and fifty cowbirds about eight cows, running before their noses and in odd positions, awkwardly walking with a straddle, often their heads down and tails up a long time at once, occasionally flying to keep up with a cow.")

Goldfinches twitter over. See July 15, 1854 ("This cooler, still, cloudy weather after the rain is very autumnal and restorative to our spirits. The robin sings still, but the goldfinch twitters over oftener, and I hear the link link of the bobolink, and the crickets creak more as in the fall."); July 17, 1852 ("Again methinks I hear the goldfinch.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Goldfinch

July 13.  See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, July 13.

See quite a large flock

of chattering red-wings,

the flight of first broods. 

Ripe thimble-berries

now abundant along walls

but not much flavor.

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Ripe Thimble-berries

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-560713

A small pewee nest on apple in Miles’s meadow.

June 12. 

P. M. — To Conantum on foot. 

Sophia has sent me, in a letter from Worcester, part of an orchis in bloom, apparently Platanthera Hookeri (?), or smaller round-leafed orchis, from the Hermitage Wood, so called, northeast of the town; but the two leaves are elliptical.

Utricularia vulgaris was abundantly out yesterday in Everett’s Pool; how long? 

Sidesaddle flower numerously out now. 

Apparently a small pewee nest on apple in Miles’s meadow. Bird on, and not to be frightened off, though I throw sticks and climb the tree to near her.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, June 12, 1856

Sidesaddle flower numerously out now:  Sarracenia purpurea, also known as the purple pitcher plant or northern pitcher plant, the only pitcher plant native to New England.  See  June 12, 1852 ("The petals of the sidesaddle-flower, fully expanded, hang down. How complex it is, what with flowers and leaves! It is a wholesome and interesting plant to me, the leaf especially."); June 12, 1853 ('The sidesaddle-flowers are partly turned up now and make a great show, with their broad red petals flapping like saddle ears (?)" See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Purple Pitcher Plant

Apparently a small pewee nest on apple. See  June 9, 1855 ("The nest probably of the small pewee — looking from the ground like a yellowbird’s, showing reddish wool of ferns —against a white birch, on a small twig, eighteen feet from ground. Four little eggs, all pale cream-color before blowing, white after - fresh.”); June 21, 1855 (" On an apple at R.W.E.’s a small pewee’s nest, on a horizontal branch, seven feet high, almost wholly of hair, cotton without, not incurved at edge; four eggs, pale cream-color.”)

The “Small Pewee” is listed as Muscicapa acadia in Report on the Fishes, Reptiles and Birds of Massachusetts 295 (1839), also in Thompson, Natural History of Vermont, part I, 76 (1842). Probably what Thoreau calls the "small pewee” is what we now know as the Least Flycatcher (Empidonax minimus). It nests in open woods, aspen groves orchards and shade trees. Its sound, che bek, seems closer to Thoreau’s chevet, tche-vet. And it arrives in Massachusetts the last week in April and in Vermont the first week of May. See A Book of the Seasons,by Henry Thoreau, the "Small Pewee”

A small pewee nest 

on apple in Mile's meadow – 

bird on, not frightened.

Found to-day, of nests, one song sparrow, one small pewee, one yellowbird, one chip-bird, three catbirds, one chewink, one robin..

June 9.

P. M. — To Wheeler’s azalea swamp, across meadow.

Early primrose done, say-two days. An orchis, probably yellowish, will be common in Wheeler’s meadow. 

Sidesaddle, apparently a day or two; petals hang down. 

A song sparrow’s nest low in Wheeler’s meadow, with five eggs, made of grass lined with hair. 

Rhus Toxicodendron on Island Rock. 

The nest probably of the small pewee — looking from the ground like a yellowbird’s, showing reddish wool of ferns —against a white birch, on a small twig, eighteen feet from ground. Four little eggs, all pale cream-color before blowing, white after - fresh. 

A yellowbird’s nest eight feet from ground in crotch of a very slender maple. 

A chip-bird’s in a white thorn on the Hill; one egg.

A catbird’s nest, three eggs, in a high blueberry, four feet from ground, with rather more dry leaves than usual, above Assabet Spring. 

Lambkill out. 

Catbird’s nest, one egg, on a blueberry bush, three feet from ground, of (as usual) sticks, leaves, bark, roots. Another near same (also in V. Muhlenbergii Swamp) on a bent white birch and andromeda, eighteen inches from ground; three eggs; stubble of weeds mainly instead of twigs, otherwise as usual. 

A chewink’s nest sunk in ground under a bank covered with ferns, dead and green, and huckleberry bushes; composed of dry leaves, then grass stubble, and lined with a very few slender, reddish moss stems; four eggs, rather fresh; merely enough moss stems to indicate its choice. 

Fever-root, perhaps several days. 

See very few hawks for several weeks. 

Found to-day, of nests, one song sparrow, one small pewee, one yellowbird, one chip-bird, three catbirds, one chewink, one robin (the last on a black willow, two feet from ground, one egg). 

I think I have hardly heard a bobolink for a week or ten days.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, June 9, 1855

Sidesaddle, apparently a day or two; petals hang down. Sarracenia purpurea, also known as the purple pitcherplant or northern pitcher plant, the only pitcherplant native to New England. See note to June 12, 1856 ("Sidesaddle flower numerously out now.”) See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Purple Pitcher Plant

A yellowbird’s nest eight feet from ground in crotch of a very slender maple. See June 9, 1856 ("A yellowbird’s nest in a poplar on Hubbard’s Bridge; four fresh eggs; ten feet high"); see also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Summer Yellowbird

Lambkill out. See June 13, 1852 ("Lambkill is out. I remember with what delight I used to discover this flower in dewy mornings.All things in this world must be seen with the morning dew on them, must be seen with youthful, early-opened, hopeful eyes.");June 13, 1854 ("How beautiful the solid cylinders of the lamb-kill now just before sunset, — small ten-sided, rosy-crimson basins, about two inches above the recurved, drooping dry capsules of last year, — and sometimes those of the year before are two inches lower."); June 25, 1852 ("Sometimes the lambkill flowers form a very even rounded, close cylinder, six inches long and two and a half in diameter, of rich red saucer-like flowers, the counterpart of the latifolia in flowers and flower- buds, but higher colored. I regard it as a beautiful flower neglected. It has a slight but not remarkable scent") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Lambkill (Kalmia augustifolia)

I think I have hardly heard a bobolink for a week or ten days. See June 15, 1852 ("The note of the bobolink begins to sound somewhat rare"); June 19, 1853 ("The strain of the bobolink now begins to sound a little rare. It never again fills the air as the first week after its arrival");  June 22, 1852 ("The bobolink loses his song as he loses his colors.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Bobolink

 

June 9. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, June 9

A yellowbird’s nest 

eight feet from ground in crotch of 

a slender maple. 

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 © 2009-2021

A peculiar light

July 23

July 23, 2014

There is a peculiar light reflected from the shorn fields, as later in the fall, when rain and coolness have cleared the air. Hazel leaves in dry places have begun to turn yellow and brown. 

I see broods of partridges later than the others, now the size of the smallest chickens.   

The white orchis at same place, four or five days at least; spike one and three quarters by three inches. 

Small flocks of song sparrows rustle along the walls and fences.  

See a thunder-cloud coming up in northwest, but as I walk and wind in the woods, lose the points of compass and cannot tell whether it is travelling this way or not. At length the sun is obscured by its advance guard, but, as so often, the rain comes, leaving thunder and lightning behind.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 23, 1854

I see broods of partridges later than the others, now the size of the smallest chickens. See June 26, 1857 ("See a pack of partridges as big as robins at least."); July 5, 1857 ("Partridges big as quails.");
 July 7, 1854 ("Disturb two broods of partridges this afternoon, — one a third grown, flying half a dozen rods over the bushes, yet the old, as anxious as ever, rushing to me with the courage of a hen."); July 10, 1854 ("Partridge, young one third grown.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Partridge

The white orchis . . . spike one and three quarters by three inches. See August 8, 1858 (" I find at Ledum Swamp, near the pool, the white fringed orchis, quite abundant but past prime, only a few, yet quite fresh. It seems to belong to this sphagnous swamp and is some fifteen to twenty inches high, quite conspicuous, its white spike, amid the prevailing green. The leaves are narrow, half folded, and almost insignificant. It loves, then, these cold bogs"); August 11, 1852 ("Platanthera blephariglottis, white fringed orchis.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The White Fringed Orchis

See a thunder-cloud coming up in northwest. See July 20, 1854 ("A muttering thunder-cloud in northwest gradually rising and with its advanced guard hiding in the sun and now and then darting forked lightning."); July 24, 1854 ("Now, at 2 p. m., I hear again the loud thunder and see the dark cloud in the west.")

As I walk and wind in the woods, lose the points of compass. See March 29, 1853 ("Every man has once more to learn the points of compass as often as he awakes, whether from sleep or from any abstraction.")

July 23. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, July 23

But, as so often, 

the rain comes, leaving thunder 

and lightning behind.

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 fine ripple and sparkle on the pond, seen through the mist...

Sunset, June 16, 2014

June 16.  As the sun went down last night, round and red in a damp misty atmosphere, so now it rises in the same manner, though there is no dense fog.

.                   

Sunrise June 16, 2014

Three days in succession, — the 13th, 14th, and 15th, — thunder-clouds, with thunder and lightning, have risen high in the east, threatening instant rain, and yet each time it has failed to reach us. Thus it is almost invariably, methinks, with thunder-clouds which rise in the east; they do not reach us.  

The warmer, or at least drier, weather has now prevailed about a fortnight. Once or twice the sun has gone down red, shorn of his beams. There have been showers all around us, but nothing to mention here yet. 

Panicled cornel well out on Heywood Peak. 

There is a cool east wind, — and has been afternoons for several days, — which has produced a very thick haze or a fog.  

There is a fine ripple and sparkle on the pond, seen through the mist.

June 16, 2014

The Rosa nitida grows along the edge of the ditches, the half-open flowers showing the deepest rosy tints, so glowing that they make an evening or twilight of the surrounding afternoon, seeming to stand in the shade or twilight. Already the bright petals of yesterday's flowers are thickly strewn along on the black mud at the bottom of the ditch. 

• The R. nitida, the earlier (?), with its narrow shiny leaves and prickly stem and its moderate-sized rose pink petals. 
• The R. lucida, with its broader and duller leaves, but larger and perhaps deeper-colored and more purple petals, perhaps yet higher scented, and its great yellow centre of stamens. 
• The smaller, lighter, but perhaps more delicately tinted R. rubiginosa. 

One and all drop their petals the second day. I bring home the buds of the three ready to expand at night, and the next day they perfume my chamber.

Add to these the white lily (just begun), also the swamp-pink, and probably morning-glory, and the great orchis, and mountain laurel (now in prime), and perhaps we must say that the fairest flowers are now to be found. 

It is eight days since I plucked the great orchis; one is perfectly fresh still in my pitcher. It may be plucked when the spike is only half opened, and will open completely and keep perfectly fresh in a pitcher more than a week. 

Do I not live in a garden, — in paradise? I can go out each morning before breakfast — I do — and gather these flowers with which to perfume my chamber where I read and write, all day.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, June 16, 1854

Thunder-clouds which rise in the east; they do not reach us. See June 15, 1860 ("A thunder-shower in the north goes down the Merrimack."); June 16, 1860 (" Thunder-showers show themselves about 2 P.M. in the west, but split at sight of Concord and go past on each side")

There is a cool east wind, — and has been afternoons for several days, — which has produced a very thick haze or a fog. See June 23, 1854 ("There has been a foggy haze, dog-day-like, for perhaps ten days"); See also April 30, 1856 ("Early in the afternoon, or between one and four, the wind changes . . . and a fresh cool wind from the sea produces a mist in the air") and A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Sea-turn

I bring home the buds of the three ready to expand at night, and the next day they perfume my chamber. See June 23, 1852 ("I take the wild rose buds to my chamber and put them in a pitcher of water, and they will open there the next day, and a single flower will perfume a room ;and then, after a day, the petals drop off, and new buds open."); June 15, 1853 ("I bring home the[wild rose] buds ready to expand, put them in a pitcher of water, and the next morning they open and fill my chamber with fragrance.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Wild Rose

 It is eight days since I plucked the great orchis; one is perfectly fresh still in my pitcher. See June 9, 1854 ("Find the great fringed orchis out apparently two or three days.Two are almost fully out, two or three only budded.A large spike of peculiarly delicate pale-purple flowers growing in the luxuriant and shady swamp . . .I think that no other but myself in Concord annually finds it. . . . It lifts its delicate spike amid the hellebore and ferns in the deep shade of the swamp. "); June 19, 1852 (" The orchis keeps well. One put in my hat this morning, and carried all day, will last fresh a day or two at home"); June 21, 1852 (" The purple orchis is a good flower to bring home. It will keep fresh many days, and its buds open at last in a pitcher of water") See also Henry Thoreau, A Book of the Seasons, The purple fringed orchids

My chamber where I read and write, all day. See H Daniel Peck, Thoreau's Morning Work (noting that Thoreau "'set aside regular intervals, usually in the morning, for [the Journal's] composition, and typically wrote several days' entries at a sitting, working from notes that he accumulated during his [after-noon] walks' of the previous several days") See also  July 23, 1851 (" If I should reverse the usual, — go forth and saunter in the fields all the forenoon, then sit down in my chamber in the afternoon, which it is so unusual for me to do,-it would be like a new season to me, and the novelty of it (would) inspire me. . . .Is the literary man to live always or chiefly sitting in a chamber through which nature enters by a window only? What is the use of the summer? . . . I expand more surely in my chamber, as far as expression goes . . . but here outdoors is the place to store up influences.")

Note. Today HDT extends his comments on the extradition of Anthony Burns:

But what signifies the beauty of nature when men are base? We walk to lakes to see our serenity reflected in them. When we are not serene, we go not to them. Who can be serene in a country where both rulers and ruled are without principle? The remembrance of the baseness of politicians spoils my walks. My thoughts are murder to the State; I endeavor in vain to observe nature; my thoughts involuntarily go plotting against the State. I trust that all just men will conspire.

We have used up all our inherited freedom . . . It is not an era of repose. If we would save our lives, we must fight for them . . . Why will men be such fools as to trust to lawyers for a moral reform? I do not believe that there is a judge in this country prepared to decide by the principle that a law is immoral and therefore of no force.

See May 29, 1854 , June 9, 1854 and "Slavery in Massachusetts,"

June 16. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, June 16

There have been showers

all around us, but nothing

to mention here yet.

Thus it is methinks

with thunder-clouds in the east –

they do not reach us.

It is eight days since 

I plucked the great orchis still 

fresh in my pitcher.

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, A fine ripple and sparkle on the Pond

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-540616 

A frog, an orchid, and a family of hawks.

June 8.

At the last small pond near Well Meadow, a frog, apparently a small bullfrog, on the shore enveloped by a swarm of small, almost invisible insects, some resting on him, attracted perhaps by the slime which shone on him. 

He appears to endure the persecution like a philosopher.

As I stand by this pond, I hear a hawk scream, and, looking up, see, a pretty large one circling not far off and incessantly screaming, as I at first suppose to scare and so discover its prey, but its screaming is so incessant and it circles from time to time so near me, as I move southward, that I begin to think it has a nest near by and is angry at my intrusion into its domains. As I move, the bird still follows and screams, coming sometimes quite near or within gunshot, then circling far off or high into the sky. At length, as I  look up at it, thinking it the only living creature within view, I am singularly startled to behold, as my eye by chance penetrates deeper into the blue, - the abyss of blue above, which I had taken for a solitude, - its mate silently soaring at an immense height and seemingly indifferent to me.

We are surprised to discover that there can be an eye on us on that side, and so little suspected, that the heavens are full of eyes, though they look so blue and spotless. 

Now I know it was the female that circles and screams below. At last the latter rises gradually to meet her mate, and they circle together there, as if they could not possibly feel any anxiety on my account. When I draw nearer to the tall trees where I suspect the nest to be, the female descends again, sweps by screaming still nearer to me just over the tree-tops, and finally, while I am looking for the orchis in the swamp, alights on a white pine twenty or thirty rods off. 

(The great fringed orchis just open.) 

At length I detect the nest about eighty feet from the ground, in a very large white pine by the edge of the swamp. It is about three feet in diameter, of dry sticks, and a young hawk, apparently as big as its mother, stands on the edge of the nest looking down at me, and only moving its head when I move. It appears a tawny brown on its neck and breast, and dark brown or blackish on wings. The mother is light beneath, and apparently lighter still on rump.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, June 8, 1853

The great fringed orchis just open. See June 12, 1853 ("Visited the great  orchis. . . its great spike, six inches by two, of delicate pale-purple flowers, which begin to expand at bottom, rises above and contrasts with the green leaves of the hellebore and skunk-cabbage and ferns. . . in the cool shade of an alder swamp."); June 13, 1853 ("some rare and beautiful flower, which you may never find again, perchance, like the great purple fringed orchis, ") See also A Book of Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Purple Fringed Orchids

At length I detect the nest about eighty feet from the ground, in a very large white pine by the edge of the swamp. See May 1, 1855 ("He [Garfield] climbed the tree when I was there yesterday afternoon, the tallest white pine or other tree in its neighborhood, over a swamp, and found two young, . . .The reason I did not see my hawks at Well Meadow last year was that he found and broke up their nest there, containing five eggs.”);  April 30, 1857 ("[A] pretty large hawk alighted on an oak close by us. It probably has a nest near by and was concerned for its young.”); April 30, 1855 ( It must have a nest there.");  March 23, 1859 (“. . .we saw a hen-hawk perch on the topmost plume of one of the tall pines at the head of the meadow. Soon another appeared, probably its mate, but we looked in vain for a nest there."); March 2, 1856 ("I can hardly believe that hen-hawks may be beginning to build their nests now, yet their young were a fortnight old the last of April last year.”); July 31, 1856 ("Near Well Meadow, hear the distant scream of a hawk, apparently anxious about her young, and soon a large apparent hen-hawk (?) comes and alights on the very top of the highest pine there, within gunshot, and utters its angry scream. This a sound of the season when they probably are taking their first (?) flights.")

June 8. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, June 8

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 ©  2009-2021

Cannabis sativa, apparently out.

August 11.

To Contantum.

The mountain-ash berries are turning. We had a ripe watermelon on the 7th. I see the great yellow flowers of the squash amid the potatoes in the garden, one of the largest yellow flowers we have. How fat and rich! Of course it is long since they blossomed. Green corn begins.

The autumnal ring of the alder locust. White lilies are not very numerous now.

The skunk-cabbage leaves are fallen and decaying, and their fruit is black. Their fall is earlier than that of other plants.

I am attracted by the clear dark-green leaves of the fever-bush. The rum cherry is ripe.

The Collinsonia Canadensis just begun. The great trumpet-weeds now fairly out. Sumach berries now generally red. Some naked viburnum berries are red. The sweet viburnum turning.

The larger skull-cap is quite an important and interesting flower.

Platanthera blephariglottis, white fringed orchis.

This side of Hubbard's Meadow Bridge, Lespedeza hirta (hairy), Cannabis sativa, apparently out.

Aster corymbosus, path beyond Corner Spring and in Miles Swamp.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, August 11, 1852

Cannabis sativa, apparently out. See August 4, 1854 ("Cannabis sativa")

Platanthera blephariglottis, white fringed orchis. See August 8, 1858 ("I find at Ledum Swamp, near the pool, the white fringed orchis, quite abundant but past prime, only a few, yet quite fresh. It seems to belong to this sphagnous swamp and is some fifteen to twenty inches high, quite conspicuous, its white spike, amid the prevailing green. The leaves are narrow, half folded, and almost insignificant. It loves, then, these cold bogs.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The White Fringed Orchis

Aster corymbosus, path beyond Corner Spring and in Miles Swamp. See August 9, 1856 ("What I have called Aster corymbosus out a day, above Hemlocks. . . .")

August 11.  See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, August 11

 

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 © 2009-2021

The pewee sings yet.

August 1

August 1, 2014

The berries of what I have called the alternate-leaved cornel [dogwood] are now ripe, a very dark blue – blue-black – and round, but dropping off prematurely, leaving handsome red cymes, which adorn the trees from a distance. 

Chelone glabra [white turtlehead] just out. 

Is not that the small-flowered hypericum?

Singing birds are scarce. I have not heard the catbird or the thrush for a long time. The pewee sings yet.

Early apples are ripe, and the sopsivine scents my handkerchief before I have perceived any odor from the orchards. 

Find a long, dense spike of the Orchis psycodes. Much later this than the great orchis. The same, only smaller and denser, not high-colored enough.

The small rough sunflower (Helianthus divaricatus) tells of August heats; also Helianthus annuus, common sunflower. May it not stand for the character of August?

H. D. Thoreau, Journal,  August 1, 1852

The berries of what I have called the alternate-leaved cornel are now ripe. See August 2, 1854 ("How interesting the small alternate cornel trees with often a flat top, a peculiar ribbed and green leaf, and pretty red stems supporting its harmless blue berries inclined to drop off.");August 3, 1856 ("Cornus alternifolia berries ripe, as I go from Holden Swamp shore to Miles Swamp. They are in open cymes, dull-blue, somewhat depressed globular, tipped with the persistent styles, yet already, as usual, mostly fallen. But handsomer far are the pretty (bare) red peduncles and pedicels, like fairy fingers spread. They make a show at a distance of a dozen rods even. Something light and open about this tree, but a sort of witch's tree nevertheless. ") See also A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Alternate-leafed dogwood (Cornus alternifolia)

Singing birds are scarce . . .The pewee sings yet. See August 6, 1858 ("The note of the wood pewee is now more prominent, while birds generally are silent. "); August 18, 1860 ("The note of the wood pewee sounds prominent of late."); September 5, 1858 (" I hear two or more wood pewees this afternoon, but had not before for a fortnight or more. The pewee days are over for some time.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Eastern Wood-Pewee

Find a long, dense spike of the Orchis psycodes. See August 2, 1852 ("It is a new era with the flowers when the small purple fringed orchis, as now, is found in shady swamps standing along the brooks. It appears to be alone of its class. Not to be overlooked, it has so much flower, ") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Purple Fringed Orchids

The small rough sunflower tells of August heats. See note to  August 1, 1855 ("Small rough sunflower a day or two"). See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Helianthus

August 1. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, August 1.

No catbird or thrush.

The singing birds are scarce but

the pewee sings yet. 

A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The pewee sings yet.

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-520801