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
Single red maples
bright against the cold green pines
now seen a mile off.
A marsh hawk circles
low along the meadow's edge
looking for a frog.
The waning season –
these are warm serene and bright
autumn afternoons.
Another smart frost
making dry walking amid
the stiffened grass.
 |
| September 26, 2016 |
Another smart frost, making dry walking amid the stiffened grass in the morning. September 26, 1858
It is a warm and very pleasant afternoon, and I walk along the riverside. September 26, 1854
The taller grass and sedge, now withered and brown, reveals the little pines in it. September 26, 1860
The spikes of P. Crus-galli also are partially bare. September 26, 1858
I observe that the seeds of the Panicum sanguinale and filiforme are perhaps half fallen, evidently affected by the late frosts. September 26, 1858
Many swamp white oak acorns have turned brown on the trees. September 26, 1854
Acorns have fallen after the rain and wind, just as leaves and fruit. September 26, 1860
Succory in bloom at the Tommy Wheeler house. It bears the frost well, though we have not had much. September 26, 1852
Apparently Hypericum prolificum in Monroe's garden, still out. September 26, 1857
Solidago rigida, just done, within a rod southwest of the oak. September 26, 1857
Solidago rigida, just done, within a rod southwest of the oak. September 26, 1857
The pickerel-weed is brown, and I see musquash-houses. September 26, 1857
The tree fern is in fruit now, with its delicate, tendril-like fruit climbing three or four feet over the asters, goldenrods, etc., on the edge of the swamp. The large ferns are yellow or brown now. September 26, 1852
Dogsbane leaves a clear yellow. September 26, 1852
The Gnaphalium plantaginifolium [mouse-ear] leaves, green above, downy beneath. September 26, 1852
The Gnaphalium plantaginifolium [mouse-ear] leaves, green above, downy beneath. September 26, 1852
The small cottony leaves of the fragrant everlasting in the fields for some time, protected, as it were, by a little web of cotton against frost and snow, — a little dense web of cotton spun over it, — entangled in it, — as if to restrain it from rising higher. September 26, 1852
Viburnum dentatum berries still hold on. September 26, 1854
The increasing scarlet and yellow tints around the meadows and river remind me of the opening of a vast flower-bud; they are the petals of its corolla, which is of the width of the valleys. It is the flower of autumn, whose expanding bud just begins to blush. September 26, 1852
I see far off the various-colored gowns of cranberry pickers against the green of the meadow. September 26, 1857
I see far off the various-colored gowns of cranberry pickers against the green of the meadow. September 26, 1857
Some single red maples are very splendid now, the whole tree bright-scarlet against the cold green pines; now, when very few trees are changed, a most remarkable object in the landscape; seen a mile off. September 26, 1854
Small oaks in hollows (as under Emerson Cliff) have fairly begun to change. September 26, 1860
As yet, however, in the forest there are very few changes of foliage. September 26, 1852
The Polygonum articulatum, giving a rosy tinge to Jenny's Desert and elsewhere, is very interesting now, with its slender dense racemes of rose-tinted flowers, apparently without leaves, rising cleanly out of the sand. September 26, 1852
Minute rose-tinted flowers that brave the frosts and advance the summer into fall, warming with their color sandy hill sides and deserts, like the glow of evening reflected on the sand. Apparently all flower and no leaf. September 26, 1852
Go up Assabet for fuel. September 26, 1855
It is not in vain, perhaps, that every winter the forest is brought to our doors, shaggy with lichens. Even in so humble a shape as a wood-pile, it contains sermons for us. September 26, 1852
It is not in vain, perhaps, that every winter the forest is brought to our doors, shaggy with lichens. Even in so humble a shape as a wood-pile, it contains sermons for us. September 26, 1852
Hearing a sharp phe-phe and again phe-phe-phe, I look round and see two (probably larger) yellow-legs, like pigeons, standing in the water by the bare, flat ammannia shore, their whole forms reflected in the water. They allow me to paddle past them, though on the alert. September 26, 1859
I hear a faint jingle from some sparrows on the willows. September 26, 1854
Larks, like robins, fly in flocks. September 26, 1852
And now is the time, too, when flocks of sparrows begin to scour over the weedy fields, especially in the morning. September 26, 1858
And now is the time, too, when flocks of sparrows begin to scour over the weedy fields, especially in the morning. September 26, 1858
The seeds of pigweed are yet apparently quite green. Maybe they are somewhat peculiar for hanging on all winter. September 26, 1858
I watch a marsh hawk circling low along the edge of the meadow, looking for a frog. . September 26, 1857
The river stands a little way over the grass again, and the summer is over. September 26, 1857
The river is getting to be too cold for bathing. September 26, 1852
Took my last bath the 24th. Probably shall not bathe again this year. It was chilling cold. September 26 1854
Monday and Tuesday I was coming to Boston and Concord. Aboard the steamer Boston were several droves of sheep and oxen and a great crowd of passengers. September 26-27, 1853
I see now ripe, large (three-inch), very dark chocolate(?)-colored puffballs. Are then my five-fingers puffballs? September 26, 1852
I see, just up, the large light-orange toad-stools with white spots. September 26, 1860
I hear a frog or two, either palusiris or halecina, croak and work faintly, as in spring, along the side of the river. September 26, 1859
So it is with flowers, birds, and frogs a renewal of spring. September 26, 1859
I see, just up, the large light-orange toad-stools with white spots. September 26, 1860
I hear a frog or two, either palusiris or halecina, croak and work faintly, as in spring, along the side of the river. September 26, 1859
So it is with flowers, birds, and frogs a renewal of spring. September 26, 1859
Coming home, the sun is intolerably warm on my left cheek. I perceive it is because the heat of the reflected sun, which is as bright as the real one, is added to that of the real one, for when I cover the reflection with my hand the heat is less intense. September 26, 1857
The season is waning. A wasp just looked in upon me. A very warm day for the season. September 26, 1857
These are warm, serene, bright autumn afternoons. September 26, 1857
September 26, 2024
[As yet, however, in the forest there are very few changes of foliage. September 26, 1852]
*****
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau. Wasps
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Red Maple
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Viburnum lentago
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, St. Johns-wort (Hypericum)
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Aromatic Herbs
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Mouse-ear
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Luxury of Bathing
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Serene as the Sky
*****
 |
| September 26, 2014 |
February 13, 1853 ("I am called to window to see a dense flock of snowbirds, on and under the pigweed in the garden. ")
February 16, 1856 ("The sun is most pleasantly warm on my cheek")
February 25, 1857 (“The fragrant everlasting has retained its fragrance all winter.”)
February 27, 1859 ("The sky, too, is soft to look at, and the air to feel on my cheek.")
March 30, 1855 ("To-day and yesterday have been bright, windy days. —west wind, cool, yet, compared with the previous colder ones, pleasantly, gratefully cool to me on my cheek.")
April 4, 1852 ("I feel the northwest air cooled by the snow on my cheek.")
April 18, 1855 ("And as I sit on Fair Haven Hill-side, the sun actually burns my cheek;")
June 5, 1853 (“The heavens and the earth are one flower. The earth is the calyx, the heavens the corolla.”)
July 9, 1851 ("The handsome blue flowers of the succory or endive (Cichorium Intybus).")
July 21, 1853 ("The sun is now warm on my back, and when I turn round I have to shade my face with my hands")
The Maine Woods ("Daily to be shown matter, to come in contact with it-rocks, trees, wind on our cheeks! the solid earth! the actual world! the common sense! Contact! Contact! Who are we? where are we?”)
August 5, 1855 ("Hear a yellow-legs flying over,—phe' phe phe, phe' phe phe.”)
August 6, 1852 ("We live, as it were, within the calyx of a flower.")
August 16, 1856 ("I find the dog's-bane (Apocynum androsoemifolium) bark not the nearly so strong as that of the A. cannabinum”). Note "Apocynum" means "poisonous to dogs".)
August 21, 1852 (“The leaves of the dogsbane are turning yellow”)
February 25, 1857 (“The fragrant everlasting has retained its fragrance all winter.”)
February 27, 1859 ("The sky, too, is soft to look at, and the air to feel on my cheek.")
March 30, 1855 ("To-day and yesterday have been bright, windy days. —west wind, cool, yet, compared with the previous colder ones, pleasantly, gratefully cool to me on my cheek.")
April 4, 1852 ("I feel the northwest air cooled by the snow on my cheek.")
April 18, 1855 ("And as I sit on Fair Haven Hill-side, the sun actually burns my cheek;")
June 5, 1853 (“The heavens and the earth are one flower. The earth is the calyx, the heavens the corolla.”)
July 9, 1851 ("The handsome blue flowers of the succory or endive (Cichorium Intybus).")
July 21, 1853 ("The sun is now warm on my back, and when I turn round I have to shade my face with my hands")
The Maine Woods ("Daily to be shown matter, to come in contact with it-rocks, trees, wind on our cheeks! the solid earth! the actual world! the common sense! Contact! Contact! Who are we? where are we?”)
August 5, 1855 ("Hear a yellow-legs flying over,—phe' phe phe, phe' phe phe.”)
August 6, 1852 ("We live, as it were, within the calyx of a flower.")
August 16, 1856 ("I find the dog's-bane (Apocynum androsoemifolium) bark not the nearly so strong as that of the A. cannabinum”). Note "Apocynum" means "poisonous to dogs".)
August 21, 1852 (“The leaves of the dogsbane are turning yellow”)
August 27, 1858 ("Robins fly in flocks.")
August 27, 1856 ("Then there are the Viburnum dentatum berries, in flattish cymes, dull lead colored berries, depressed globular, three sixteenths of an inch in diameter, with a mucronation, hard, seedy, dryish, and unpalatable.")
August 28, 1852 ("The viburnums, dentatum and nudum, are in their prime. The sweet viburnum not yet purple, and the maple-leaved still yellowish. ")
August 29, 1856 ("Fragrant everlasting in prime and very abundant, whitening Carter's pasture.”)September 2, 1859 ("The meadows acquire a fresh yellowish green as in the spring. This is another phase of the second spring, of which the peeping of hylas by and by is another.")
September 4, 1858 ("P. sanguinale, crab grass, finger grass, or purple panic grass.")
September 4, 1858 ("P. sanguinale, crab grass, finger grass, or purple panic grass.")
September 8, 1851 ("Plants commonly soon cease to grow for the year, unless they may have a fall growth, which is a kind of second spring. In the feelings of the man, too, the year is already past, and he looks forward to the coming winter. His occasional rejuvenescence and faith in the current time is like the aftermath, a scanty crop. . . .It is a season of withering, of dust and heat, a season of small fruits and trivial experiences. . . . But there is an aftermath in early autumn, and some spring flowers bloom again, followed by an Indian summer of finer atmosphere and of a pensive beauty. May my life be not destitute of its Indian summer, a season of fine and clear, mild weather in which I may prolong my hunting before the winter comes,")
September 10, 1859 ("See wasps, collected in the sun on a wall, at 9 A. M.")
September 11, 1857 ("To my surprise I find, by the black oaks at the sand hole east of Clamshell, the Solidago rigida, apparently in prime or a little past. The heads and rays were so large I thought at first it must be a hieracium.")
September 12, 1858 ("The Panicum filiforme is very abundant ... and, seen in the right light, where they stand thick, they give a purple gleam to the field.")\
September 13, 1858 ("There is a man there mowing the Panicum Crus-galli, which is exceedingly rank and dense.")
September 12, 1858 ("The Panicum filiforme is very abundant ... and, seen in the right light, where they stand thick, they give a purple gleam to the field.")\
September 13, 1858 ("There is a man there mowing the Panicum Crus-galli, which is exceedingly rank and dense.")
September 14, 1852 ("The grass is very green after the rains, like a second spring,")
September 14, 1854 ("A flock of thirteen tell tales, great yellow-legs, start up with their shrill whistle from the midst of the great Sudbury meadow, and away they sail in a flock. . .to alight in a more distant place.”)
September 16, 1852 (“Some birds, like some flowers, begin to sing again in the fall.”)
September 17, 1858 ("Methinks, too, that there are more sparrows in flocks now about in garden,")
September 18, 1852 ("The robins of late fly in flocks, and I hear them oftener.")
September 19, 1854 ("I see large flocks of robins keeping up their familiar peeping and chirping.")
September 20, 1855 ("See larks in flocks on meadow.")
September 14, 1854 ("A flock of thirteen tell tales, great yellow-legs, start up with their shrill whistle from the midst of the great Sudbury meadow, and away they sail in a flock. . .to alight in a more distant place.”)
September 16, 1852 (“Some birds, like some flowers, begin to sing again in the fall.”)
September 17, 1858 ("Methinks, too, that there are more sparrows in flocks now about in garden,")
September 18, 1852 ("The robins of late fly in flocks, and I hear them oftener.")
September 19, 1854 ("I see large flocks of robins keeping up their familiar peeping and chirping.")
September 20, 1855 ("See larks in flocks on meadow.")
September 21, 1854 ("The first frost in our yard last night, the grass white and stiff in the morning.")
September 23, 1851 ("I notice new cabins of the muskrats in solitary swamps.")
September 23, 1851 ("I notice new cabins of the muskrats in solitary swamps.")
September 23, 1851 ("I scare up large flocks of sparrows in the garden.")
September 24, 1851 ("I notice one red tree, a red maple, against the green woodside in Conant's meadow. It is a far brighter red than the blossoms of any tree in summer and more conspicuous.")
September 24, 1854 ("It is now too cold to bathe with comfort. ")September 24, 1854 ("The muskrats make haste now to rear their cabins and conceal themselves.")
September 24, 1855 ("Brought home quite a boat-load of fuel . . . It would be a triumph to get all my winter’s wood thus")
September 25, 1851 (" To bathe in Hubbard's meadow . . . I find the water suddenly cold, and that the bathing days are over. ")
September 25. 1857 (Brought home my first boat-load of wood.")September 25, 1857 ("The red maple has fairly begun to blush in some places by the river. I see one, by the canal behind Barrett’s mill, all aglow against the sun.. . .A single tree becomes the crowning beauty of some meadowy vale and attracts the attention of the traveller from afar. . . .The whole tree, thus ripening in advance of its fellows, attains a singular preéminence and attracts the attention of the traveller from afar. ")
September 25, 1855 ("A very fine and warm afternoon after a cloudy morning. . . . See two marsh hawks skimming low over the meadows ")
September 25, 1857 ("I hear some birds in the maples across the river utter a peculiar note of alarm . . .and see them seeking a covert. Looking round, I see a marsh hawk beating the bushes on that side")
September 25, 1858 ("Melvin says . . . that he sometimes sees the larger yellow-legs here.")
September 25, 1858 ("Melvin says . . . that he sometimes sees the larger yellow-legs here.")
September 25, 1859 (" The very crab-grass in our garden is for the most part a light straw-color and withered. . . and hundreds of sparrows (chip-birds ?) find their food amid it. ")
Pleasant afternoon
walk along the riverside –
sparrow's faint jingle.
September 26, 1854
September 27, 1856 ("Bathed at Hubbard's Bath, but found the water very cold. Bathing about over”)
September 27, 1855 ("Some single red maples now fairly make a show along the meadow. I see a blaze of red reflected from the troubled water.")
September 27, 1857 ("At last, its labors for the year being consummated and every leaf ripened to its full, it flashes out conspicuous to the eye of the most casual observer, with all the virtue and beauty of a maple, – Acer rubrum.")
September 27, 1855 ("Some single red maples now fairly make a show along the meadow. I see a blaze of red reflected from the troubled water.")
September 27, 1857 ("At last, its labors for the year being consummated and every leaf ripened to its full, it flashes out conspicuous to the eye of the most casual observer, with all the virtue and beauty of a maple, – Acer rubrum.")
September 27, 1858 (" Red maples now fairly glow along the shore . They vary from yellow to a peculiar crimson which is more red than common crimson.")
September 27, 1858 ("What are those little birds in flocks in the garden and on the peach trees these mornings, about size of chip-birds, without distinct chestnut crowns?”)September 28, 1852 ("This is the commencement, then, of the second spring.")
October 1, 1860 (“Remarkable frost and ice this morning; quite a wintry prospect. The leaves of trees stiff and white..”)
October 1, 1858 ("See larks in small flocks.")
October 1, 1858 ("See larks in small flocks.")
October 2, 1851 ("At the Cliffs, I find the wasps prolonging their short lives on the sunny rocks, just as they endeavored to do at my house in the woods.")
October 2, 1858 ("The garden is alive with migrating sparrows these mornings.")
October 2, 1858 ("The garden is alive with migrating sparrows these mornings.")
October 2, 1858 ("A large chocolate-colored puffball “smokes.”")
October 2, 1856 ("Succory still, with its cool blue, here and there")
October 2, 1856 ("Succory still, with its cool blue, here and there")
October 3, 1858 ("Some particular maple among a hundred will be of a peculiarly bright and pure scarlet, and, by its difference of tint and intenser color, attract our eyes even at a distance in the midst of the crowd")
October 3, 1860 ("I have seen and heard sparrows in flocks, more as if flitting by, within a week, or since the frosts began.")
October 3, 1860 ("I have seen and heard sparrows in flocks, more as if flitting by, within a week, or since the frosts began.")
October 4, 1853 ("The mouse-ear in the shade in the middle of the day, so hoary, looks as if the frost still lay on it. Well it wears the frost.")
October 5, 1858 (“I still see large flocks, apparently of chip birds, on the weeds and ground in the yard.”);
October 10, 1853 ("There are . . . large flocks of small sparrows, which make a business of washing and pruning themselves in the puddles in the road, as if cleaning up after a long flight and the wind of yesterday.”)
October 10, 1853 ("There are . . . large flocks of small sparrows, which make a business of washing and pruning themselves in the puddles in the road, as if cleaning up after a long flight and the wind of yesterday.”)
October 10, 1856 ("Indian summer itself is a similar renewal of the year, with the faint warbling of birds and second blossoming of flowers.")
October 11, 1859 ("There was a very severe frost this morning (ground stiffened)")
October 13, 1855 ("Larks in flocks in the meadows, showing the white in their tails as they fly, sing sweetly as in spring.")
October 14, 1856 ("Any flowers seen now may be called late ones. I see perfectly fresh succory, not to speak of yarrow, a Viola ovata, . . .etc., etc.")
October 11, 1859 ("There was a very severe frost this morning (ground stiffened)")
October 13, 1855 ("Larks in flocks in the meadows, showing the white in their tails as they fly, sing sweetly as in spring.")
October 14, 1856 ("Any flowers seen now may be called late ones. I see perfectly fresh succory, not to speak of yarrow, a Viola ovata, . . .etc., etc.")
October 15, 1851 (" The muskrat-houses appear now for the most part to be finished. Some, it is true, are still rising. They line the river all the way. ")
October 15, 1853 ("Last night the first smart frost that I have witnessed. Ice formed under the pump, and the ground was white long after sunrise.")
October 15, 1856 (“A smart frost . . . . Ground stiffened in morning; ice seen.”)
October 16, 1859 ("I see the new musquash-houses erected, conspicuous on the now nearly leafless shores")
October 17, 1859 ("A smart frost this morning. Ground stiffened.")
October 15, 1856 (“A smart frost . . . . Ground stiffened in morning; ice seen.”)
October 16, 1859 ("I see the new musquash-houses erected, conspicuous on the now nearly leafless shores")
October 17, 1859 ("A smart frost this morning. Ground stiffened.")
October 20, 1859 ("Scare up a yellow-legs, apparently the larger, on the shore of Walden. It goes off with a sharp phe phe, phe phe.")
October 21, 1857 ("I become a connoisseur in wood at last, take only the best.")
October 22, 1851 ("The fragrant life everlasting is still fresh")
October 23, 1853 ("Many phenomena remind me that now is to some extent a second spring, — not only the new-springing and blossoming of flowers, but the peeping of the hylodes for some time, and the faint warbling of their spring notes by many birds.")
The flowers bloom and
the birds warble their spring notes
like a second spring.
November 8, 1851 (" Like Viola pedata, I shall be ready to bloom again here in my Indian summer days. ")
November 16, 1852 ("Muskrat-houses completed. Interesting objects looking down a river-reach at this season, and our river should not be represented without one or two of these cones. They are . . .of too much importance to be omitted in the river landscape.")
January 2, 1856 ("I see, near the back road and railroad, a small flock of eight snow buntings feeding on the the seeds of the pigweed.")
January 2, 1856 ("I see, near the back road and railroad, a small flock of eight snow buntings feeding on the the seeds of the pigweed.")
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. September 25 <<<<<<<<< September 26. >>>>>>>> September 27 A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, September 26 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 https://tinyurl.com/hdt26sept |
