Log Search Results

  Sundown.—To Hill and Island.

  Have noticed within a week, from time to time, the water-line on the bushes along the shore—the water going down—unusually distinct . . .

  As I return in the dusk, many nighthawks, with their great spotted wings, are circling low over the river, as the swallows were when I went out. They skim within a rod of me. After dusk these greater swallows come forth, and circle and play about over the water . . .

  Dear Sir,

  I shall be very glad to help you collect the Nymphaeaceae &c, and to spend another day with you on our river, & in our fields and woods (Concord Saunterer 15, no. 2 (Summer 1980):1-2; MS, private owner).

  I forwarded by mail a copy of my “Week” post paid to James Newberry, Merchant, Rochester, Oakland Co Mich, according to your order, about ten days ago, or on the receipt of your note. I will obtain and forward a copy of “Walden” & also of the “Week,” to California, to your order, post paid, for $2.60 The Postage will be between 60 & 70 cts.

  I thank you heartily for your kind intentions respecting me. The West has man attractions for me, particularly the lake country & the Indians. Yet I do not foresee what my engagements may be in the fall. I have once or twice come near going West a-lecturing, and perhaps some winter may bring me into your neighborhood, in which case I should probably see you. Yet lecturing has commonly proved so foreign & irksome to me, that I think I could only use it to acquire the means with which to make an independent tour another time.

  As for my pen, I can say that it is not altogether idle, though I have finished nothing new in the book form. I am drawing a rather long bow, though it may be a feeble one, but I pray that the archer may receive new strength before the arrow is shot.

  With many thanks

  Yrs truly
  Henry D. Thoreau

  In the ditches in Moore’s Swamp on the new Bedford road, the myriads of pollywogs, now three quarters of an inch long, crowding close to the edge, make a continuous black edging to the pool a foot wide . . .

  P.M.—To Laurel Glen.

  I see, running along on the flat side of a railroad rail on the causeway, a wild mouse with an exceedingly long tail. Perhaps it would be called the long-tailed meadow mouse . . .

  At 5 P.M., go to see a gray squirrel’s nest in the oak at the Island point . . .

  Indian graves in a oak opening on a ridge. Hazel bushes & sage willow beneath. 1st aspen & willow, then elm & ash & at last oak. The large woods I walked in this p.m. were like the wooded region westerner & parallel with the river & very dense or clogged with underwood as are old woods with us.

  P.M. By boat with Sophia to my grapes laid down in front of Fair Haven.

  It is a beautiful, warm and calm Indian-summer afternoon. The river is so high over the meadows, and the pads and other low weeds so deeply buried, and the water is so smooth and glassy withal, that I am reminded of a calm April day during the freshets. The coarse withered grass, and the willows, and button-bushes with their myriad balls, and whatever else stands on the brink, are reflected with wonderful distinctness. This shore, thus seen from the boat, is like the ornamented frame of a mirror . . .

  Tansy lingers still by Hubbard’s Bridge. But methinks I he flowers are disappearing earlier this season than last . . .