Log Search Results

  Ilere is a little brook of very cold spring-water, rising a, few rods distant, with a gray sandy and pebbly bottom, flowing through this dense swampy thicket, where, nevertheless, the sun falls in here and there between the leaves and shines on its bottom, Meandering exceedingly, and sometimes running underground. The trilliums on its brim have fallen into it and bathe their red berries in the water, waving in the stream . . .

  Cooler weather. Last Sunday we were sweltering here and one hundred died of the heat in New York; to-day they have fires in this village. After more rain, with wind in the night, it is now clearing up cool . . .

  On entering Fair Haven with a fair wind, scare up two ducks behind the point of the Island. Saw three or four more in the afternoon Also I hear from over the pond the clear metallic scream of young hawks . . .

  Plucked, about 4.30, one bunch of Viburnum nudum berries, all green, with very little pink tinge even. When I got home at 6.30, nine were turned blue, the next morning thirty . . .

  Dog-day weather as for clouds, but less smoky than before the rains of ten days ago . . .

  I spent my afternoon among the desmodiums and lesped’ezas, sociably. The further end of Fair Haven Hill-side is a great place for them.

  All the lespedezas are apparently more open and delicate in the woods, and of a darker green, especially the violet ones . . .

  I see thistle-down, grayish-white, floating low quite across Fair Haven Pond . . .

  We have our first green corn to-day, but it is late . . . (Journal, 11:113-114).

  I noticed also that where the ice in the road had melted and left the mud bare, the latter, as if crystallized, discovered countless rectilinear fissures, an inch or more in length—a continuation, as it were, of the checkered ice.