Sept. 10, 1851.
3 P. M. To the Cliffs and the Grape Cliff beyond. ....
As I go through the woods, I see that the ferns have turned brown and give the woods an autumnal look. The boiling spring is almost completely dry. Nothing flows, ... but there are many hornets and yellow wasps apparently buzzing and circling about in jealousy of one another, ... drinking the stagnant water.
As I go up Fair Haven Hill, I see some signs of the approaching fall of the white pine. On some trees the old leaves are already somewhat reddish, though not enough to give the trees a parti-colored look ....
The poke is a very rich and striking plant. Some which stand under the Cliffs quite dazzled me with their now purple stems gracefully drooping each way, their rich, somewhat yellowish, purple-veined leaves, their bright purple racemes, - peduncles, and pedicels, and calyx-like petals from which the birds have picked the berries (these racemes, with their petals now turned to purple, are more brilliant than anything of the kind), - flower-buds, flowers, ripe berries and dark purple ones, and calyx-like petals which have lost their fruit, all on the same plant. I love to see any redness in the vegetation of the temperate zone. It is the richest color. I love to press these berries between my fingers and see their rich purple wine staining my hand. It asks a bright sun on it to make it show to best advantage, and it must be seen at this season of the year. It speaks to my blood. Every part of it is flower, such is its superfluity of color, - a feast of color. That is the richest flower which most abounds in color. What need to taste the fruit, to drink the wine, to him who can thus taste and drink
with his eyes? Its boughs, gracefully drooping, offering repasts to the birds. It is cardinal in its rank, as in its color. Nature here is full of blood and heat and luxuriance. What a triumph it appears in Nature to have produced and perfected such a plant, - as if this were enough for a summer.
The downy seeds of the groundsel [fireweed] are taking their flight here. The calyx has dismissed them and quite curled back, having done its part. .... At the Grape Cliff, the few bright-red leaves of the tupelo contrast with the polished green ones. The tupelos with drooping branches.
The grape-vines overrunning and bending down the maples form little arching bowers over the meadow, five or six feet in diameter, like parasols.... The oak-ball of dirty drab now.
-H.D.T.
Sept. 10, 2021.
At 12:30 p.m., I arrive at the base of Bear Garden Hill on a cool, 63 degree, sunny afternoon with large billowing clouds hanging above. Just as Thoreau saw on this calendar day, wisps of white down float across the grown-in field, with seven-foot high grasses, pink smart weed, goldenrod and cone flowers. Just as observed by Thoreau, the wisps today are apparently from fireweed within the overgrown field (and also from two Canada wild lettuce, standing against the fence). Many bumblebees are greedily stuffing themselves with nectar on the goldenrods.
A large pokeweed plant, right off of Thoreau's list, grows along the driveway side of the fence. With purple-tinged leaves and pinkish-red stalks, it is festooned with many clusters of dark, juicy berries. Poisonous to people, these berries are nonetheless a nutricious bounty for many birds, such as cardinals, mockingbirds, bluebirds and mourning doves, which distribute the seeds after digestion. Its name likely comes from the Algonquian word "pokan," meaning "bloody," and it's thick purple juice was historically used as ink. (At a recent kid event in fall 2022, we drew art with ink made from pokeweed berries and acorns - see below. It's so apropro then that Thoreau describes the richness of this plump, juicy, berried plant, at the pinnacle of Nature's work, with "blood and heat and luxuriance." Indeed, if Nature is personified, is it not such a thick, purple current - robust with the sheer force of life - that runs through her veins?
The fullness of this day resounds with the trill of crickets and intermittent spurts of accompanying cicadas as I walk the Fairhaven Trail along the Sudbury River. Jays and nuthatches call out. The mosquitos, which have been almost unbearable in so many parts of the woods of late, seem to have subsided. As Thoreau did, I find white pine saplings with tinges of newish, autumn red on their needles. Among the thicket of ferns where the path crosses Cliff Brook (and elsewhere) I see many fronds in orange brown colors among the green, lending a strong foreboding of autumnal colors to come. Along the trail, I find a fresh green sponge oak apple wasp gall, and further along, a dried-up and older, brown one. Downy seeds of a hawkweed and rattlesnake root stand ready to contribute their own fluffy wisps to the air.
Below Grape Cliff, I climb down the steep bank past a fruiting maple viburnum to the river’s edge. I’m in search of grape vines hanging over the water among the maples as Thoreau describes, but am feeling very pessimistic. But, low and behold, there they are! - hanging instead off of the end of a drooping bower of black tupelo tree branches and leaves! The black tupelo perfectly matches Thoreau’s description too, with patches of red and orange leaves already showing their fall colors. The tree, about 52 inches in circumference, rises directly out of the highly flooded river. I have not found a tree growth calculator for this species to estimate the tree’s age, and wonder if it could have stood during Thoreau’s visit here 170 years ago. Another tupelo, equally large, without grape vines stands just upriver.
As I exit, I decipher what bird I have been hearing a lot of recently with a barking-like call – the red-bellied woodpecker. At the trailhead, as the sky starts to drop rain, I find another grape vine with hanging grapes hidden underneath the parasol-like leaves, protecting them from the shower. Like the pokeberries, this luscious fruit, dark purplish-black with its own thick, juicy elixir worthy of the gods, is Nature's "blood and heat and luxuriance" in its own right. While the poke may provide wine to drink and taste with our eyes, here is Nature's bounty ready to transform with yeast and time, as if by magic, into a tonic for our elation of smell, taste and mind.
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