Thoreau writes in his journal:
Not till after 8 A.M. does the fog clear off so much that I see the sun shining in patches on Nawshawtuct… 2 P.M.—To the Three Friends’ Hill beyond Flint’s Pond, via railroad, R. W. E.’s [Ralph Waldo Emerson] wood-path south side Walden, George Heywood’s cleared lot, and Smith’s orchard; return via cast of Flint’s Pond, via Goose Pond and my old home to railroad . . . Found a violet, apparently Viola cucullata, or hood-leaved violet, in bloom in Baker’s Meadow beyond Pine Hill . . . When I got into the Lincoln road, I perceived a singular sweet scent in the air, which I suspected arose from some plant now in a peculiar state owing to the season, but though I smelled everything around, I could not detect it, but the more eagerly I smelled, the further I seemed to be from finding it; but when I gave up the search, again it would be wafted to me… I had already bathed in Walden as I passed, but now I forgot that I had been wetted, and wanted to embrace and mingle myself with the water of Flint’s Pond this warm afternoon, to get wet inwardly and deeply.
