Journal 02, 1850-September 15, 1851: The Writings of Henry David Thoreau, Volume 08 (of 20)Thoreau, Henry David
Religion
Journal 02, 1850-September 15, 1851: The Writings of Henry David Thoreau, Volume 08 (of 20)
Thoreau, Henry David
Authors, American -- 19th century -- Diaries; Thoreau, Henry David, 1817-1862 -- Diaries
_Aug. 9. Saturday._ Tansy now in bloom and the fresh white clethra.
Among the pines and birches I hear the invisible locust. As I am going
to the pond to bathe, I see a black cloud in the northern horizon and
hear the muttering of thunder, and make haste. Before I have bathed
and dressed, the gusts which precede the tempest are heard roaring in
the woods, and the first black, gusty clouds have reached my zenith.
Hastening toward town, I meet the rain at the edge of the wood, and
take refuge under the thickest leaves, where not a drop reaches me,
and, at the end of half an hour, the renewed singing of the birds alone
advertises me that the rain has ceased, and it is only the dripping
from the leaves which I hear in the woods. It was a splendid sunset
that day, a celestial light on all the land, so that all people went to
their doors and windows to look on the grass and leaves and buildings
and the sky, and it was equally glorious in whatever quarter you
looked; a sort of fulgor as of stereotyped lightning filled the air.
Of which this is my solution. We were in the westernmost edge of the
shower at the moment the sun was setting, and its rays shone through
the cloud and the falling rain. We were, in fact, in a rainbow and it
was here its arch rested on the earth. At a little distance we should
have seen all the colors.
The _Œnothera biennis_ along the railroad now. Do the cars disperse
seeds? The _Trichostema dichotomum_ is quite beautiful now in the cool
of the morning. The epilobium in the woods still. Now the earliest
apples begin to be ripe, but none are so good to eat as some to
smell. Some knurly apple which I pick up in the road reminds me by its
fragrance of all the wealth of Pomona.[279]
_Aug. 12. Tuesday._ 1.30 A. M.—Full moon. Arose and went to the river
and bathed, stepping very carefully not to disturb the household,
and still carefully in the street not to disturb the neighbors. I did
not walk naturally and freely till I had got over the wall. Then to
Hubbard’s Bridge at 2 A. M. There was a whip-poor-will in the road
just beyond Goodwin’s, which flew up and lighted on the fence and kept
alighting on the fence within a rod of me and circling round me with
a slight squeak as if inquisitive about me. I do not remember what I
observed or thought in coming hither.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account