Thoreau writes in his journal:
The first April showers are even fuller of promise and a certain moist serenity than the sunny days. How thickly the green blades are starting up amid the russet! The tinge of green is gradually increasing in the face of the russet earth.
Now that the very earliest shrubs are beginning to unfold . . .
P.M.—To Lee’s Cliff on foot . . .
Saw my white-headed eagle again, first at the same place, the outlet of Fair Haven Pond. It was a fine sight, lie is mainly—i.e. his wings and body—so black against the sky, and they contrast so strongly with his white head and tail. He was first flying low over the water; then rose gradually and circled westward toward White Pond. Lying on the ground with my glass, I could watch him very easily, and by turns he gave me all possible views of himself . . . Now I see him edgewise like a black ripple in the air, his white head still as ever turned to earth, and now he turns his under side to me, and I behold the full breadth of his broad black wings, somewhat ragged at the edges . . .