Southeast wind. Begins to sprinkle while I am sitting in Laurel Glen, listening to hear the earliest wood frogs croaking . . . . It is a singular sound for awakening Nature to make, associated with the first warmer days, when you sit in some sheltered place in the woods amid the dried leaves. How moderate on her first awakening, how little demonstrative! You may sit half an hour before you will hear another . . .

  Returning, above the railroad causeway, I see a flock of goldfinches, first of spring, flitting along the causeway-bank . . .

  C. [William Ellery Channing] sees geese go over again this afternoon . . .