a lichen day
...Thoreau's Journal: 5-Feb-1853

A thick fog. The trees and woods look well through it. You are inclined to walk in the woods for objects. They are draped with mist, and you hear the sound of it dripping from them. It is a lichen day. Not a bit of rotten wood lies on the dead leaves, but it is covered with fresh, green cup lichens, etc., etc. All the world seems a great lichen and to grow like one to-day,—a sudden humid growth.


michael jameson said...

i recall with more clarity then any other, myself alone in a canoe early in the morning with the fog soaking my clothes and only a pair of loons for company, it is my fondest and most memorable thought i have,and now i share it with you.

Marsha said...

I live in an area noted for its mountain mists. I will now think of these as 'lichen days'--mysterious in occluding and reshaping sights I may otherwise take for granted.