Log Search Results

  In the latter part of October the skaters and water-bugs entirely disappear from the surface of the pond, and then and in November, when the weather is perfectly calm, it is almost absolutely as smooth as glass. This afternoon a three-days’ rain-storm is drawing to an end, though still overcast. The air is quite still but misty, from time to time mizzling, and the pond is very smooth, and its surface difficult to distinguish, though it no longer reflects the bright tints of autumn but sombre colors only . . .

  P.M.—To Walden and Flint’s . . .

  C. [William Ellery Channing] says he saw succory yesterday, and a loon on the pond the 30th ult . . .

  I gather some fine large pignuts by the wall (near the beech trees) on Baker’s land . . .

  Sailing past the bank above the railroad, just before a clear sundown, close to the shore on the east side I see a second fainter shadow of the boat, sail, myself, and paddle, etc., directly above and upon the first on the bank . . .

  Dear Sir

  The parcel of books advised by me on the 26th of October, as having been sent by the “Asia” Steamer, from Liverpool, has been shut out of that vessell on account of her cargo being complete several days previous to her sailing. Under these circumstances I have therefore ordered the parcel to be shipped by the “Canada” of the 10th proximo, and trust that you will not experience any inconvenience from this unavoidable delay—

  I am, dear Sir,

  Yours very truly

  John Chapman
  A D Ferguson

  I have written to Messrs Crosby Nichols & Co, Boston, respecting your package—

  Returning, I see the red oak on R.W.E.’s shore reflected in the bright sky water. In the reflection the tree is black against the clear whitish sky, though as I see it against the opposite woods it is a warm greenish yellow. But the river sees it against the bright sky, and hence the reflection is like ink. The water tells me how it looks to it seen from below . . .

  A cool gray November afternoon; sky overcast . . .

  The gardener can see only the gardener’s garden, wherever he goes. The beauty of the earth answers exactly to your demand and appreciation.

  Apples in the village and lower ground are now generally killed brown and crisp, without having turned yellow, especially the upper parts, while those on hills and [in] warm places turned yellowish or russet, and so ripened to their fall . . .

  Lee of the Corner speaks of an oak lot of his in Sudbury, which he bought in ’31 and cut off (last and all of it last winter), but from the older stumps no sprouts have come up, but good ones from the younger . . . (Journal, 14:208-212).