Showing posts with label wild senna. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wild senna. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 16, 2016

Though I find only one new plant I am bewildered, as it were, by a variety of new things.

August 16.

8 A.M. — To Cassia Field. 

Chenopodium hybridum, a tall rank weed, five feet at least, dark-green, with a heavy (poisonous ?) odor compared to that of stramonium; great maple(?)- shaped leaves. How deadly this peculiar heavy odor!

Diplopappus linariifolius, apparently several days. 

Ambrosia pollen now begins to yellow my clothes. 

Cynoglossum officinale, a long time, mostly gone to seed, at Bull's Path and north roadside below Leppleman's. Its great radical leaves made me think of smooth mullein. The flower has a very peculiar, rather sickening odor; Sophia thought like a warm apple pie just from the oven (I did not perceive this). A pretty flower, however. I thoughtlessly put a handful of the nutlets into my pocket with my handkerchief. But it took me a long time to pick them out my handkerchief when I got home, and I pulled out many threads in the process. 

At roadside opposite Leighton's, just this side his barn, Monarda fistulosa, wild bergamot, nearly done, with terminal whorls and fragrance mixed of balm and summer savory. The petioles are not ciliated like those on Strawberry Hill road. 

Wild Senna ~ wikipedia
(Wild Senna = Cassia = Cassia hebecarpa = Sennahebecarpa = Northern wild senna)


Am surprised to find the cassia so obvious and abundant. Can see it yellowing the field twenty-five rods off, from top of hill. It is perhaps the prevailing shrub over several acres of moist rocky meadow pasture on the brook; grows in bunches, three to five feet high (from the ground this year), in the neighborhood of alders, hardhack, elecampane, etc. 

The lower flowers are turning white and going to seed, — pods already three inches long, — a few upper not yet opened. It resounds with the hum of bumblebees. It is branched above, some of the half-naked (of leaves) racemes twenty inches long by five or six wide. Leaves alternate, of six or eight pairs of leafets and often an odd one at base, locust-like. 

Looked as if they had shut up in the night. Mrs. Pratt says they do. E. Hoar says she has known it here since she was a child. 

The cynoglossum by roadside opposite, and, by side of tan-yard, the apparently true Mentha viridis, or spearmint, growing very rankly in a dense bed, some four feet high, spikes rather dense, one to one and a half inches long, stem often reddish, leaves nearly sessile. Say August 1st at least. 

Some elecampane with the cassia is six feet high, and blades of lower leaves twenty inches by seven or nine.  

What a variety of old garden herbs — mints, etc. — are naturalized along an old settled road, like this to Boston which the British travelled! And then there is the site, apparently, of an old garden by the tan-yard, where the spearmint grows so rankly. I am intoxicated with the fragrance. 

Though I find only one new plant (the cassia), yet old acquaintances grow so rankly, and the spearmint intoxicates me so, that I am bewildered, as it were by a variety of new things. An infinite novelty. All the roadside is the site of an old garden where fragrant herbs have become naturalized, — hounds-tongue, bergamot, spearmint, elecampane, etc. I see even the tiger lily, with its bulbs, growing by the roadside far from houses (near Leighton's graveyard).

I think I have found many new plants, and am surprised when I can reckon but one. A little distance from my ordinary walk and a little variety in the growth or luxuriance will produce this illusion. 

By the discovery of one new plant all bounds seem to be infinitely removed. 

Amphicarpaea some time; pods seven eighths of an inch long. Mimvlus ringens four feet high, and chelone six feet high! 

Am frequently surprised to find how imperfectly water-plants are known. Even good shore botanists are out of their element on the water. I would suggest to young botanists to get not only a botany-box but a boat, and know the water-plants not so much from the shore as from the water side. 

White morning-glory up the Assabet. 

I find the dog's-bane (Apocynum androsoemifolium) bark not the nearly so strong as that of the A. cannabinum.

Amaranthus hypochondriacus, how long?

Minott says that the meadow-grass will be good for nothing after the late overflow, when it goes down. The water has steamed the grass. I see the rue all turned yellow by it prematurely. 

Bathing at Merrick's old place, am surprised to find how swift the current. Raise the river two feet above summer level and let it be running off, and you can hardly swim against it. It has fallen about fifteen inches from the height. 

My plants in press are in a sad condition; mildew has invaded them during the late damp weather, even those that were nearly dry. I find more and other plants than I counted on. Very bad weather of late for pressing plants. Give me the dry heat of July. Even growing leaves out of doors are spotted with fungi now, much more than mine in press.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, August 16, 1856


Diplopappus linariifolius, apparently several days. 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."); December 26, 1855 (“Weeds in the fields and the wood-paths are the most interesting. Here are asters, savory-leaved, whose flat imbricated calyxes, three quarters of an inch over, are surmounted and inclosed in a perfectly transparent icebutton, like a glass knob, through which you see the reflections of the brown calyx.”); see also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, 

Am surprised to find the cassia so obvious and abundant. See August 11, 1856 ("Mr. Bradford . . .gives me a sprig of Cassia Marilandica, wild senna, found by Minot Pratt just below Leighton's by the road side.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Wild Senna

Though I find only one new plant (the cassia), yet old acquaintances grow so rankly, and the spearmint intoxicates me so, that I am bewildered, as it were by a variety of new things. An infinite novelty. See August 8, 1852 ("No man ever makes a discovery, even an observation of the least importance, but he is advertised of the fact by a joy that surprises him"); September 2, 1856 ("It commonly chances that I make my most interesting botanical discoveries when I am in a thrilled and expectant mood, perhaps wading."); February 4, 1858 ("It is a remarkable fact that, in the case of the most interesting plants which I have discovered in this vicinity, I have anticipated finding them perhaps a year before the discovery.") November 4, 1858 ("We cannot see any thing until we are possessed with the idea of it, and then we can hardly see anything else. In my botanical rambles I find that first the idea, or image, of a plant occupies my thoughts, though it may at first seem very foreign to this locality, and for some weeks or months I go thinking of it and expecting it unconsciously, and at length I surely see it, and it is henceforth an actual neighbor of mine. This is the history of my finding a score or more of rare plants which I could name.”) See also January 27, 1857 ("The most poetic and truest account of objects is generally by those who first observe them, or the discoverers of them, whether a sharper perception and curiosity in them led to the discovery or the greater novelty more inspired their report.")

A little distance from my ordinary walk . . . will produce this illusion. By the discovery of one new plant all bounds seem to be infinitely removed. See February 9, 1852("A man goes to the end of his garden, inverts his head, and does not know his own cottage. The novelty is in us, and it is also in nature."); May 31, 1853 ("The fact that a rare and beautiful flower which we never saw. . . may be found in our immediate neighborhood, is very suggestive. . . The boundaries of the actual are no more fixed and rigid than the elasticity of our imaginations"); December 11, 1855 ("It is only necessary to behold thus the least fact or phenomenon, however familiar, from a point a hair’s breadth aside from our habitual path or routine, to be overcome, enchanted by its beauty and  significance. ”)

Raise the river two feet above summer level and let it be running off, and you can hardly swim against it. See note to August 16, 1860 ("River about ten and a half inches above summer level")


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

And the spearmint
so intoxicates me that
I am bewildered.
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

 

tinyurl.com/HDTwildsenna 


 


Wednesday, August 10, 2016

The convexity of the earth.

August 11

This morning the river is an inch and a half higher, or within eight inches of the top of Hoar's wall.

August 11, 2016

The other evening, returning down the river, I think I detected the convexity of the earth within a short distance. I saw the western landscape and horizon, reflected in the water fifty rods behind me, all lit up with the reflected sky, though it was a narrow picture. A stroke of my oar and the dark intervening water was interposed like a dark, opaque wall. Moving my head a few inches up or down produced the same effect; i.e., by raising my head three inches I could partially oversee the plane of the water at that point, which was otherwise concealed by the slightest convexity.

P. M. — Walk to Conantum with Mr. Bradford. 

He gives me a sprig of Cassia Marilandica, wild senna, found by Minot Pratt just below Leighton's by the road side. How long? P. thought it in prime August 10th.

Aster puniceus a day or more.

A new sunflower at Wheeler's Bank, this side Corner Spring, which I will call the tall rough sunflower; opened say August 1st (?). (I saw it out the 7th.) It does not correspond exactly to any described. Stem three to six feet high, branched at top, purple with a bloom, roughish, especially the peduncles. Leaves opposite, except a few small ones amid the branches, thick , ovate or ovate-lanceolate, taper-pointed, three-nerved, obscurely and remotely toothed, rough above, smooth and whitish below, abruptly contracted into margined petioles. Scales of the involucre lanceolate, taper-pointed, subequal, exceeding the disk, ciliate; rays eight or nine, one and a half or more inches long, chaff black. Edge of meadow.

Measured a mulgedium, eight feet three inches long and hollow all the way. 

Some boy had fixed an arch-angelica stem so as to conduct the water at the spring close by. 

Elder-berries in a day or two. 

I see some Hypericum angulosum turned a delicate clear purple. 

Polygonum dumetorum at Bittern Cliff, one flower gone to seed (!); say day or two.

7 p. m. — The river has risen about two inches to day, and is now within six inches of the top of Hoar's wall.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, August 11, 1856

I think I detected the convexity of the earth. . . by raising my head three inches. 
See June 7, 1851 ("You may walk out in any direction over the earth's surface, lifting your horizon, and everywhere your path, climbing the convexity of the globe, leads you between heaven and earth.”);  August 23, 1851 ("We experience pleasure when an elevated field or even road in which we may be walking holds its level toward the horizon at a tangent to the earth, is not convex with the earth’s surface, but an absolute level."); March 28, 1858 ("On ascending the hill next his home, every man finds that he dwells in a shallow concavity whose sheltering walls are the convex surface of the earth, beyond which he cannot see.") See also Samuel Birley Rowbotham ("If the earth is a globe, and is 25,000 English statute miles in circumference, the surface of all standing water must have a certain degree of convexity—every part must be an arc of a circle. From the summit of any such arc there will exist a curvature or declination of 8 inches in the first statute mile. In the second mile the fall will be 32 inches; in the third mile, 72 inches, or 6 feet." ~ wikipedia)

Aster puniceus a day or more. See August 30, 1856 ("The Aster puniceus is hardly yet in prime; its great umbel-shaped tops not yet fully out.")

A new sunflower at Wheeler's Bank, this side Corner Spring, which I will call the tall rough sunflower; opened say August 1st (?). (I saw it out the 7th.) It does not correspond exactly to any described. 
See August 12, 1856 ("Am surprised to see still a third species or variety of helianthus (which may have opened near August 1st, say only a week). Only the first flowers out. At edge of the last clearing south of spring. I cannot identify it."); September 2, 1856 ("A short time ago, I was satisfied that there was but one kind of sunflower (divaricatus) indigenous here. Hearing that one had found another kind, it occurred to me that I had seen a taller one than usual lately, but not so distinctly did I remember this as to name it to him or even fully remember it myself. (I rather remembered it afterward.) But within that hour my genius conducted me to where I had seen the tall plants, and it was the other man's new kind. The next day I found a third kind, miles from there, and, a few days after, a fourth in another direction. It commonly chances that I make my most interesting botanical discoveries when I am in a thrilled and expectant mood, perhaps wading in some remote swamp where I have just found something novel and feel more than usually remote from the town. Or some rare plant which for some reason has occupied a strangely prominent place in my thoughts for some time will present itself. My expectation ripens to discovery. I am prepared for strange things.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Helianthus

Measured a mulgedium, eight feet three inches long and hollow all the way.
See August 7, 1856 ("One mulgedium at Corner Spring is at least ten feet high and hollow all the way. "); August 12, 1856 ("The mulgedium in that swamp is very abundant and a very stately plant, so erect and soldier-like, in large companies, rising above all else, with its very regular long, sharp, elliptic head and bluish-white flowers.")

Elder-berries in a day or two.
See August 9, 1854 ("'Walden' published. Elder-berries."); August 23, 1856 ("Elder-berries, now looking purple, are weighing down the bushes along fences by their abundance.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Elder-berries

Hypericum angulosum turned a delicate clear purple.  
See July 25, 1856 ("Up river to see hypericums out.”); July 26, 1856 ("Arranged the hypericums in bottles this morning and watched their opening. The H. angulosum has a pod one-celled (with three parietal placentae), conical, oblong, acute, at length longer than the sepals, purple.”) See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, St. Johns-wort (Hypericum)

The river has risen about two inches to day, and is now within six inches of the top of Hoar's wall. See August 10, 1856 ("The river has been rising all day. It is between two and a half and three feet higher than ten days ago . . . It is within nine and a half inches of the top of Hoar's wall at 6 p. m. "); August 22, 1856 ("Owing to the rain of the 8th and before, two days and two nights, the river rose to within six inches of the top of Hoar's wall. It had fallen about one half, when the rain began again on the night of the 20th, and again continued about two nights and two days, though so much did not fall as before; but, the river being high, it is now rising fast . . . It is within three inches of the top of Hoar's wall at 7 p. m.") 

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

Popular Posts Last 30 Days.

The week ahead in Henry’s journal

The week ahead in Henry’s journal
A journal, a book that shall contain a record of all your joy.
"A stone fruit. Each one yields me a thought." ~ H. D. Thoreau, March 28, 1859


I sit on this rock
wrestling with the melody
that possesses me.