August, royal and rich.

August 10

August 10, 2013

August, royal and rich. Green corn now, and melons have begun. That month, surely, is distinguished when melons ripen. July could not do it. What a moist, fertile heat now! 

I see naked viburnum berries beginning to turn. Their whiteness faintly blushing.

The heat is furnace-like while I am climbing the steep hills covered with shrubs on the north of Walden, sweet-fern as high as one's head. The goldfinch sings er, twe, trotter trotter. 

Toadstools, which are now very abundant in the woods since the rain, are of various colors, — some red and shining, some polished white, some regularly brown- spotted, some pink, some light-blue, — buttons.

Find the Arabis Canadensis, or sickle-pod, on Heywood Peak, nearly out of bloom. Never saw it before. New plants spring up where old woods are cut off, having formerly grown here, perchance. Many such rarer plants flourish for a few years in such places before they are smothered.

I have also found here, for example, round-leaved and naked-flowered desmodium and Desmodium loe- vigatum (??) and Gnaphalium decurrens and queria. 

Ranunculus repens

The Ranunculus repens numerously out about Britton's Spring. 

A small red maple there, seven or eight feet high, all turned scarlet.

 It is glorious to see those great shining high blackberries, now partly ripe there, bending the bushes in moist, rocky sprout-lands, down amid the strong, bracing scented, tender ferns, which you crush with your feet.

The whorled polygala in the Saw Mill Brook Path, beyond the Desmodium paniculatum, may have been out as long as the caducous. 

Is not that small narrow fern I find on Conantum about rocks ebony spleenwort? Now in fruit. 

The trillium fruit (varnished and stained cherry wood) now ripe. 

Boehmeria in prime, for long time. Cohush berries ripe. 

By Everett's wall beyond Cheney's, small rough sunflowers, six feet high, with many branches and flowers. 

Saw an alder locust this morning. Hear a quail now. Of late, and for long time, only the link, link of bobolink.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, August 10, 1853


August, royal and rich. See August 4, 1851 ("It is now the royal month of August. "); August 18, 1852 ("There is indeed something royal about the month of August”)

I see naked viburnum berries beginning to turn. Their whiteness faintly blushing.See August 11, 1852 ("Some naked viburnum berries are red."); August 12, 1854 ("Viburnum nudum berries generally green, but some, higher and more exposed, of a deep, fiery pink on one cheek and light green on the other, and a very few dark purple or without bloom, black already."); August 15, 1852 ("Some naked viburnum berries are quite dark purple amid the red, while other bunches are wholly green yet.") 

Of late, and for long time, only the link, link of bobolink. See August 10, 1854 ("The tinkling notes of goldfinches and bobolinks which we hear nowadays are of one character and peculiar to the season.");   August 22, 1853  ("Surprised to hear a very faint bobolink in the air; the link, link, once or twice later.");   August 25, 1852 ("I hear no birds sing these days, only . . . the mew of a catbird, the link link of a bobolink, or the twitter of a goldfinch, all faint and rare.")

I see again the Aster patens . . . though this has no branches nor minute leaves atop. See July 19, 1854 ("I am surprised to see at Walden a single Aster patens "); July 27, 1853 ("I notice to-day the first purplish aster . . . The afternoon of the year.”); August 8, 1852 ("Aster patens and Aster laevis, both a day or two.") see also August 12, 1856 ("The Aster patens is very handsome by the side of Moore's Swamp on the bank, — large flowers, more or less purplish or violet, each commonly (four or five) at the end of a long peduncle, three to six inches long, at right angles with the stem, giving it an open look.”)

August 10. See A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau , August 10

 

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

August 10, 2013

Editing a Life

Awakened by an unpleasant dream.

 I hear the ring of crickets in the dark.

 An owl calls outside the skylight.

Another, closer at the window, returns the call.

  Hoo. Arrr. Hoo Arrrrrr.

I am thankful to have been awakened

 and to live here in the woods

I find I am on top of a book.

I turn on the light --

it is the restored edition

 of A Moveable Feast. 

The Introduction says it is about

damaged memory and lost heart.

 I read, "How good a book is

 should be judged by the man who writes it

by the excellence of the material

 that he eliminates."

Zphx, 20130810

What kind of gift is life unless we have spirits to enjoy it and taste its true flavor?  Have the gods sent us into this world to do chores? HDT 18570810

August 10. I hear a warbling vireo, golden robin, red eye and peawais. 

August, royal and rich. Green corn now. and melons have begun. That month, surely, is distinguished when melons ripen. July could not do it. What a moist, fertile heat now! I see naked viburnum berries beginning to turn. Their whiteness faintly blushing. 

Alcott spent the day with me yesterday . Ile spent the day before with Emerson. IIe observed that he had got his wine and now he had come after his venison . Such was the compliment he paid me. The question of a livelihood was troubling him . IIe knew of nothing which be could do for which men would pay him . Ile could not compete with the Irish in cradling grain. His early education had not fitted him for a clerkship . He had offered his services to the Abolition Society, to go about the country and speak for freedom as their agent, but they declined him. This is very much to their discredit ; they should have been forward to secure him. Such a connection ,vith him would confer unexpected dignity on their enterprise. But they cannot tolerate a man who stands by a head above them . They are as bad -Garrison and Phillips, etc. -as the overseers and faculty of Harvard College . They require a man who will train well under than. Consequently they have not in their employ any but small men, - trainers. 

P. M. -To Walden and Saw 'Mill Brook. 

These days are very warm, though not so warm as it was in June. The heat is furnace-like while I am climbing the steep bills covered with shrubs on the north of Walden, through sweet-fern as high as one's head. The goldfinch sings er, twe, trotter trotter. 

I see again the Aster patens (amiplexicaulis of Bigelow), though this has no branches nor minute leaves atop. Yet  it differs from the A . undalatus, not yet out plainly, in that. tbc latter's lower leaves are petioled and hearted, with petioles winged at base. 

Find the Arabis Canadensis,  or sickle-pod, on Heywood Pcak, nearly out of bloom. Never saw it before. New plants spring up where old woods are cut off, having formerly grown here, perchance. Many such rarer plants flourish for a few years in such places before they are smothered. 

I have also found here, for example, round-]caved and naked-flowered desmodium and Desmodium Loevigatum (?) and Guaphalium decurrens and queria. 

Toadstools, which tire now very abundant in the woods since the rain, are of various colors, -- some red and shining, some polished white, some regularly brown-spotted, some pink, some light-blue, -- buttons. 

The ]ian-ancwhis rep ens nuincrously out about Britton's Spring. A small red maple there, seven or eight feet high, all turned .scarlet. It is glorious to sec those great shining high blackberries, now partly ripe there, bending the hushes in moist, rocky ,sprout-lands, down amid the Strong, bracing Scented, tender ferns, which you crush with your feet . '1 'he whorled polvgala in the Saw Mill Brook Path, be vond tlic 1)csm.odi2ern panicnlatnrn, rnav have been out as low, is tl)c caducous. Is not that sni,,11 na.rroxv fern I fill(] oil Conanturn about rocks ebony splecn wort - Nmv in fruit . The trillium fruit (~arr;i,I,tcl a :ld .stained ellcrrr NEood) now ripe. I3oehmcri.e 'ill lrr131W, for lor1rr~ tune. Coliush berries ripe. By I?verett's w;dl heyond Chency's, small rough sunflowers, six feet ldglj, with many bra.nelies and flowers . 

Saw an alder locust this morning. Hear a quail now. Of late, and for long time, only the link, link of bobolink .

Editing a life.

It is August. I lie on top of the sheets awakened by an unpleasant dream. I hear the ring of crickets in the dark. An owl calls outside the skylight. Another, closer, at the window returns the call. Hoo. Arrr. Hoo Arrrrrr.

I am thankful to have been awakened and to live here in the woods. I think of Jane. Is she awake in her room over the garage? What about all those in the world who never hear the night?

I find I am on top of a book. I turn on the light; it is the restored edition of A Moveable Feast. The Introduction says it is about damaged memory and lost heart. I read, "How good a book is should be judged by the man who writes it by the excellence of the material that he eliminates."

Zphx, 20130810

This is the season of small fruits

August 9.

The Hieracium Canadense is out and is abundant at Peter's well. I also find one or two heads of the liatris. Perhaps I should have seen it a few days earlier, if it had not been for the mower. It has the aspect of a Canada thistle at a little distance. 

How fatally the season is advanced toward the fall! I am not surprised now to see the small rough sunflower. There is much yellow beside now in the fields. 

How beautiful now the early goldenrods (Solidago stricta), rising above the wiry grass of the Great Fields in front of Peter's where I sit ( which is not worth cutting), not solid yellow like the sunflower, but little pyramidal or sheaf like golden clouds or mists, supported by almost invisible leafy columns, which wave in the wind, like those elms which run up very tall and slender without a branch and fall over like a sheaf on every side! They give a very indefinite but rich, mellow, and golden aspect to the field.

I spend the forenoon in my chamber, writing or arranging my papers, and in the afternoon I walk forth into the fields and woods. I turn aside, perchance, into some withdrawn, untrodden swamp, and find these blueberries, large and fair, awaiting me in inexhaustible abundance, for I have no tame garden. They embody for me the essence and flavor of the swamp, — cool and refreshing, of various colors and flavors. Here they hang for many weeks unchanged, in dense clusters, half a dozen touching each other, — black, blue, and intermediate colors. I prefer the large blue, with a bloom on them, and slightly acid ones. 

I taste and am strengthened. This is the season of small fruits. I trust, too, that I am maturing some small fruit as palatable in these months, which will communicate my flavor to my kind.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, August 9, 1853

This is the season of small fruits. I trust, too, that I am maturing some small fruit as palatable in these months, which will communicate my flavor to my kind.  See August 9, 1854 ("Walden" published.”) Compare August 17, 1851 (“Ah! if I could so live that . . . when small fruits are ripe, my fruits might be ripe also! that I could match nature always with my moods ! that in each season when some part of nature especially flourishes, then a corresponding part of me may not fail to flourish!”); August 6, 1852 ("Methinks there are few new flowers of late. An abundance of small fruits takes their place. Summer gets to be an old story. Birds leave off singing, as flowers blossoming.");  August 18, 1853 (“The season of flowers or of promise may be said to be over, and now is the season of fruits; but where is our fruit ? The night of the year is approaching. What have we done with our talent?”); June 17, 1854 (“The season of hope and promise is past; already the season of small fruits has arrived. We are a little saddened, because we begin to see the interval between our hopes and their fulfillment. The prospect of the heavens is taken away, and we are presented only with a few small berries.”);

The objects I behold correspond to my mood.

August 7. 

The past has been a remarkably wet week, and now the earth is strewn with fungi. The earth itself is mouldy. I see a white mould in the path. Great toadstools stand in the woods. I see in the pasture grass in many places small white roundish fungi, like eggs.

It is worth the while to walk in wet weather; the earth and leaves are strewn with pearls. When I came forth it was cloudy and from time to time drizzling weather, but remarkably still (and warm enough), soothing and inducing reflection. The river is dark and smooth these days, reflecting no brightness but dark clouds, and the goldfinch is heard twittering over; though presently a thicker mist or mizzle falls, and you are prepared for rain. The river and brooks look late and cool. The stillness and the shade enable you to collect and concentrate your thoughts.

Is it not as language that all natural objects affect the poet? He sees a flower or other object, and it is beautiful or affecting to him because it is a symbol of his thought, and what he indistinctly feels or perceives is matured in some other organization. The objects I behold correspond to my mood.  

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, August 7, 1853

It is worth the while to walk in wet weather . . . See November 7, 1855 ("The view is contracted by the misty rain, the water is perfectly smooth, and the stillness is favorable to reflaction.”)

The objects I behold correspond to my mood. See  August 30, 1851 ("Your observation, to be interesting, i. e. to be significant, must be subjective. ... Every important worker will report what life there is in him.”) May 10, 1853 ("I pray for such inward experience as will make nature significant.");  May 23, 1853 ("The poet must bring to Nature the smooth mirror in which she is to be reflected. Every new flower that opens, no doubt, expresses a new mood of the human mind.”) May 6, 1854 ("I can be said to note the flower's fall only when I see in it the symbol of my own change. When I experience this, then the flower appears to me.”)

Some wasps (I am not sure there's more than one) are building a nest in my room, of mud. See January 27, 1859 ("I see some of those little cells, perhaps, of a wasp or bee, made of clay or clayey mud. It suggests that these insects were the first potters. They look somewhat like small stone jugs."). See also Mass Audubon ("Solitary wasps -- Mud Daubers (Sphecidae or Crabronidae family) Three species of these long, slender wasps can be found in Massachusetts. Black and yellow mud daubers (Sceliphron caementarium) and organ-pipe mud daubers (Trypoxylon politum)—which are black-colored—build mud nests for their young, often on sheltered parts of buildings. Blue mud daubers (Chalybion californicum) are parasitic, and they’re often found drinking water from puddles; they use the water to soften the nests of other mud daubers and break in. Then, they remove the eggs, insert their own, and reseal the opening.") and A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau. Wasps and Hornets

***

Aug. 7. Sunday. I' . At - To Fair Haven Hill via IIubbard's Grove. The krigia has bloomed again . The purple gerardia now fairly out, which I found almost out last Sunday in another place. Elder-berries begin to be ripe, bending their steins . I also see Viburnum dentatum, berries just beginning to turn on one side. Their turning or ripening looks lilac decay, -- a dark spot, - and so does the rarely ripe state of the naked viburnum and the sweet, hat we truly regard it as a ripening still, and not falsely a decaying as when  we descrivb the tints of the autumnal foliage. 

I think that within a week I have heard the alder cricket, -- a clearer and shriller sound from the leaves in low grounds, a clear shrilling out of a cool moist shade, an autumnal sound. The year is in the grasp of the crickets, and they are hurling it round swiftly on its axle. 

Some wasps (I am not sure there's more than one) are building a nest in my room, of mud, these days, buzzing loudly while at work, but at no other time. 

Often and often I hear the cool twitter of the goldfinch passing over, - a sound one with that of the alder cricket,- and the bobolink's link link. How much of spring there is brought back in a young bluebird's plaintive peep! The tall buttercup lingers still and the houstonia, not to mention the marsh speedwell and the slender bellflower. 

Now for the herbs, -- the various mints. The pennyroyal is out abundantly on the hills . I do not scent these things enough. Would it not be worth the while to devote a day to collecting the mountain mint, and another to the peppermint?

It is worth the while to walk  in wet weather; the earth and leaves are strewn with pearls . When I came forth it was cloudy and from time to time drizzling weather, but remarkably still (and warm enough), soothing and inducing reflection . The river is dark and smooth these days, reflecting no brightness but dark clouds, and the goldfinch is heard twittering over; though presently a, thicker mist or mizzle falls, and you are prepared for rain . The river and brooks have somewhat overflown their banks, and water inundates the grass and weeds, making it look late and cool. The stillness mid the shade enable you to collect and concentrate your thoughts.

Is it not as language that all natural objects affect the poet? He sees a flower or other object, and it is beautiful or affecting to him because it is a symbol of his thought, and what he indistinctly feels or perceives is matured in some other organization . The objects I behold correspond to my mood . 

The past has been a remarkably wet week, and now the earth is strewn with fungi. The earth itself is mouldy. I see a white mould in the path. Great toadstools stand in the woods, but the mushroom growth of a night is already attacked by many worms and insects . I see in the pasture grass in many places small white roundish fungi, like eggs . 

the mosquitoes are not a very serious evil till the somewhat cool muggy dog-day nights, such as we have had of late . 

I was struck by the perfect neatness, as well as elaborateness and delicacy, of a lady's dress the other day. She wore some worked lace or gauze over her bosom, and I thought it was beautiful, if it indicated an equal inward purity and delicacy, – if it was the soul she dressed and treated thus delicately.

A season of fruits and berries. Nature is now a Bacchanal

August 6. 

More dog-days. The sun, now at 9 a. m., has not yet burst through the mists. It has been warmer weather for a week than for at least three weeks before, — nights when all windows were left open, though not so warm as in June. This morning a very heavy fog. The sun has not risen clear or even handsomely for some time, nor have we had a good sunset. 

P. M. — To J. Farmer's Cliff.

I see the sunflower's broad disk now in gardens, probably a few days, — a true sun among flowers, monarch of August. Do not the flowers of August and September generally resemble suns and stars? 

— sunflowers and asters and the single flowers of the goldenrod. 

I once saw one as big as a milk-pan, in which a mouse had its nest. 

Already I notice that the lower leaves of some catnip and a white vervain have turned. They are in fact matured, and high-colored or wine-colored like the fruits. It suggests that the whole plant tends toward an equal richness and maturity and to become one flower. It is the blush of its evening sky. I have seen some red leaves on the low choke-berry. 

Now begins the vintage of their juices. Nature is now a Bacchanal, drunk with the wines of a thousand plants and berries. 

The rudbeckia must have been out at least a week or more; half the buds have opened. 

Cranberries show red cheeks, and some are wholly red, like varnished cherry wood. 

Yesterday I ate early summer apples. 

The huckleberries were many of them burst open in consequence of the copious rains. 

And now it begins to rain again and compels us to return.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, August 6, 1853

Do not the flowers of August and September generally resemble suns and stars? See August 30, 1853 ("The sun has shone on the earth, and the goldenrod is his fruit. The stars, too, have shone on it, and the asters are their fruit.”)

August 6. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, August 6

 

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

 

I cannot dry my red huckleberries.

August 5. 

August 5, 2013

Perfect dog-days. To-day is sultry, i. e. hot and cloudy, the air full of mist and here and there misty clouds; and you find yourself perspiring much before you are aware of it. Farmers complain that they cannot make hay this weather. I cannot dry my red huckleberries. The sun does not shine unobstructedly.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, August 5, 1853

Perfect dog-days. See August 1, 1856 (“ Since July 30th, inclusive, we have had perfect dog-days without interruption. The earth has suddenly invested with a thick musty mist. The sky has become a mere fungus. A thick blue musty veil of mist is drawn before the sun. The sun has not been visible, except for a moment or two once or twice a day, all this time, nor the stars by night. Moisture reigns.”); July 30, 1856 (“This is a perfect dog-day. The atmosphere thick, mildewy, cloudy. It is difficult to dry anything. The sun is obscured, yet we expect no rain”)

August 5. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, August 5

 

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

Flowering season closes

July 31

P. M. - To Walden. 

The bristly aralia berries in dense patches with their numerous umbels, the central ones ripe for two or three days. They are about two inches in diameter and perfect hemispheres of dark-blue or blue-black berries, size of a huckleberry, on slender peduncles of equal length, forming a dense hemispherical umbel, two inches in diameter.  I counted a hundred and thirty such berries in one.

Rum cherry just ripe.  

Purple gerardia by tomorrow or the next day; the linear-leafed gerardia. 

The anychia, or forked chickweed, grows larger, with spreading red stems, on the south side of Heywood Peak. 

The commonest Lespideza violacea, with small elliptical leaves, perhaps a week. 

Desmodium nudiflorum, naked-flowered tick-trefoil, some already with loments round-angled; probably more than a week; the tall, naked flowering stems, some-times more than two feet high, appearing like separate plants, at some distance from the rest, which are much lower, about ten inches high, with a bunch of oval leaves. 

Lespedeza hirta out. 

I find also a trefoil plant with long, wand-like (?) panicled racemes, rising a foot or more above the leaves, with flowers turned a bluish or verdigris green, apparently wilted, and leaves below, simple stem, on short petioles, oblongish, one to two inches. May be Desmodium Canadense (?)  or lævigatum (?) or ? Somewhat downy-stemmed. Some time ––a week –– out. Also in J. Hosmer's pines beyond Clamshell Hill. 

Also the Gnaphalium decurrens, to the eye much like the fragrant one near by, but a lighter green and very sticky. 

Pennyroyal well out for some days at least there, in large bushy tufts.

White goldenrod. 

Bushy gerardia, showing no radical leaves yet. 

I see some galls on under side of hickory leaves, red like currants, hollow with a grub within. 

Solidago nemoralis. 

These desmodiums, etc., etc., on the south side of Heywood Peak, a warm dry sprout-land, where I suspect they were not to be found before the wood was cut. They are very forward there. 

Goodyera repens well out at Corallorhiza Hillside; some time out. Put it close after the gracilis. 

 

I calculate that less than forty species of flowers known to me remain to blossom this year.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 31, 1853

The bristly aralia [Aralia hispida] berries in dense patches. See August 6, 1851 ("The berries of the bristly aralia are turning dark."); August 6, 1852 ("The bristly aralia  berries are ripe; like the sarsaparilla, a blue black."); August 6, 1856 ("Middle umbels of the bristly aralia ripe")

Rum cherry just ripe. See August 11, 1852 ("The rum cherry is ripe."); August 15, 1852 (' In E. Hubbard's swamp I gather some large and juicy and agreeable rum cherries. They are much finer than the small ones on large trees; quite a good fruit. The birds make much account of them.")

Purple gerardia by tomorrow or the next day. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, Purple Gerardia (Gerardia purpurea)

White goldenrod. See August 12, 1852 ("Solidago bicolor, white goldenrod, apparently in good season"); September 21, 1856 ("[On top of Cliff, behind the big stump] is a great place for white goldenrod, now in its prime and swarming with honey-bees."); October 11, 1856 ("The white goldenrod is still common here, and covered with bees.")

Solidago nemoralis. See July 17, 1853 ("The Solidago nemoralis (?) in a day or two, -- gray goldenrod."): August 5, 1856 ("S. nemoralis, two or three days."); August 18, 1854 ("The solidago nemoralis is now abundantly out on the Great Fields.”)

These desmodiums, etc., etc., on the south side of Heywood Peak . . . were not to be found before the wood was cut. See August 10, 1853 ("New plants spring up where old woods are cut off, having formerly grown here, perchance. Many such rarer plants flourish for a few years in such places before they are smothered. I have also found here, for example, round-leaved and naked-flowered desmodium and Desmodium loevigatum (??) and Gnaphalium decurrens and queria."); August 14, 1853 ("I find on Heywood Peak two similar desmodiums of apparently the same date, – one that of July 31st, which I will call for the present D. Dillenii, two or three feet high, curving upward, many stems from a centre, with oval-lanceolate leaves, one to two inches long, and a long, loose, open panicle of flowers, which turn blue- green in drying, stem somewhat downy and upper sides of leaves smooth and silky to the lips; the other, which I will call D. Marylandicum, of similar habit (and date), but a little smaller and the leaves rhombic ovate and blunt, and some of the lower round, about three quarters of an inch long, and stem quite smooth, or some a little roughened; also by Woodside Path to White Pond flowers turn blue-green in drying."); July 31, 1854 ("Desmodium rotundifolium. Lespedeza hirta, say 26th, at Heywood Peak.")

Goodyera repens well out at Corallorhiza Hillside; See August 20, 1857 ("The Goodyera repens grows behind the spring where I used to sit, amid the dead pine leaves")

Corallorhiza Hillside This name probably refers to the hillside at Brister’s Spring since HDT mentions the coral root orchid twice at this location (July 29, 1853, and August 20, 1852), and it is on the way to Heywood’s Peak, ~ Ray Angelo Place Names of Henry David Thoreau in Concord,

Less than forty species of flowers known to me remain to blossom this year. See July 31, 1852 ("The absence of flowers, the shadows, the wind, the green cranberries, etc., are autumnal."); July 26, 1853 ("I reckon that about nine tenths of the flowers of the year have now blossomed")