Thoreau writes in his journal:
I notice the black willows from my boat’s place to Abner Buttrick’s, to see where they grow, distinguishing ten places . . .
Wars are not yet over. I hear one in the outskirts learning to drum every night . . .
Thoreau writes in his journal:
I notice the black willows from my boat’s place to Abner Buttrick’s, to see where they grow, distinguishing ten places . . .
Wars are not yet over. I hear one in the outskirts learning to drum every night . . .