October 7, 1852 in Thoreau’s Journal:
Perhaps the autumnal tints are as bright & interesting now as they will be—now is the time to behold the maple swamps—one mass of red & yellow—all on fire as it were. These and the blood red huckleberries are the most conspicuous—and then in the village the warm brownish yellow elms—& there and elsewhere the dark red ashes. The green pines springing out of huckleberries on the hillsides look as if surrounded by red or vermillion paint….
I sit on Poplar Hill. It is a warm Indian summerish afternoon. The sun comes out of clouds & lights up & warms the whole scene— It is perfect autumn….It is the mellowing year. The sunshine harmonizes with the imbrowned & fiery foliage.
October 7, 1857 in Thoreau’s Journal:
Halfway up Fair Haven Hill, I am surprised for the thousandth time by the beauty of the landscape and sit down by the orchard wall to behold it in my leisure…..I do not know how to entertain those who cannot take long walks….I give up my forenoon to them, and get along pretty well, the very elasticity of the air and promise of the day abetting me; but they are as heavy as dumplings by mid-afternoon. If they can’t walk, why won’t they take an honest nap in the afternoon and let me go?
October 7, 1860 in Thoreau’s Journal:
Many people have a foolish way of talking about small things––& apologize for themselves or another having attended to a small thing––having neglected their ordinary business & amused or interested themselves by attending to a small thing–– When if the truth were known their ordinary business was the small thing––& almost their whole lives misspent––but they were such fools as not to know it.