Zphx
@zphx2.bsky.social
63 followers 66 following 380 posts
Vermonter following H.D. Thoreau 170 years ago today. A Book of the Seasons, https://ztonephruit.blogspot.com/search/label/BOS
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zphx2.bsky.social
The jay is the bird of October. I have seen it repeatedly flitting amid the bright leaves, of a different color from them all and equally bright . . . It is never more in its element and at home than when flitting amid these brilliant colors.

HDT ~ November 3, 1858
zphx2.bsky.social
October 15, 1859 ("Each town should have a park, or rather a primitive forest, of five hundred or a thousand acres, where a stick should never be cut for fuel, a common possession forever, for instruction and recreation.")
zphx2.bsky.social
Paddling slowly back
the blue of the sky deepens
in the reflection.

HDT ~ October 14, 1858
zphx2.bsky.social
The magical change
now in the red maple swamps
— all their splendor gone.

Mere ghosts of trees
unnoticed by any, or,
if noticed at all

like smoke that is seen
where a blaze is extinguished
— desolate gray twigs.

HDT ~ October 18, 1858
zphx2.bsky.social
I see here to-day
one brown creeper busily
inspecting pitch pines –

begins at the base,
creeps close to the bark, then darts
to another tree.

HDT ~ November 26, 1859
zphx2.bsky.social
The chickadee's note
has a new significance
in cooler weather.

HDT ~ October 11, 1859
zphx2.bsky.social
The most brilliant days
in the year ushered in by
these frosty mornings.

HDT ~ October 10, 1857
zphx2.bsky.social
"I lie on my back with joy under its boughs.

While its leaves fall, its
blossoms spring. The autumn, then,
is indeed a spring.

I see two blackbirds
high overhead, going south,
but I am going north in my thought
with these hazel blossoms . . .

This is a part of the immortality of the soul."
zphx2.bsky.social
The witch-hazel here
is in full blossom on this
magical hillside.

(All the year is a spring.)
HDT ~ October 9, 1851
zphx2.bsky.social
Indian summer,
a thick haze forming wreaths in
the near horizon.

HDT ~ October 11, 1856
zphx2.bsky.social
Milkweed seeds loosen
only when a strong wind blows –
so they carry far.

HDT ~ October 8, 1851
zphx2.bsky.social
Now and for a week
the chip-birds in flocks on the
withered grass and weeds.

HDT ~ October 7, 1860

`
zphx2.bsky.social
Flocks of straggling crows
fill the air like black fragments
of an explosion.

HDT ~ October 6, 1860
zphx2.bsky.social
A great many crows
scattered about the meadow –
black against the green.

HDT ~ October 18, 1855
zphx2.bsky.social
I saw in the east, just over the woods, the modest, pale, cloud-like moon, two thirds full, looking spirit-like on these daylight scenes. Such a sight excites me. The earth is worthy to inhabit. HDT ~April 30, 1852
zphx2.bsky.social
How all poets have idealized the farmer's life! To look down on that roof from a distance in an October evening.

No cloud is fairer
than that little bluish one
comes from his chimney.

Never reminded
of the idiot that sits
by the kitchen fire.

HDT ~ October 3, 1859
zphx2.bsky.social
Eighteen-inch chestnut
struck by lightning – only a
splinter left standing.

HDT ~May 23, 1858