12 April 1858 – 18 April 1858

A. M.— Surveying part of William P. Brown’s wood-lot in Acton, west of factory. Hear the huckleberry-bird and, [ think, the Fringilla socialis.1 The handsomest pails at the factory are of oak, white and some “gray” (perhaps scarlet), but these are chiefly for stables. The woods are all alive with pine warblers now. Their note is the music to which I survey. Now the early willows are in their prime, methinks. At angle H of the lot, on a hillside, I find the mayflower, but not in bloom. It appears to be common thereabouts. Returning on the railroad, the noon train down passed us opposite the old maid Hosmer’s house. In the woods just this side, we came upon a partridge standing on the track, between the rails over which the cars had just passed. She had evidently been run down, but, though a few small feathers were scattered along for a dozen rods beyond her, and she looked a little ruffled, she was apparently more disturbed in mind than body. I took her up and carried her one side to a safer place. At first she made no resistance, but at length fluttered out of my hands and ran two or three feet. JI had to take her up again and carry and drive her further off, and left her standing with head erect as at first, as if beside herself. She was not lame, and I suspect no wing was broken. I did not suspect that this swift wild bird was ever run down by the cars. We have an account in the newspapers of every cow and calf that is run over, but not of the various wild creatures who meet with that accident. It may be many generations before the partridges learn to give the cars a sufficiently wide berth.

Began to rain last evening, and still rains. The tree sparrows sing sweetly, canary-like, still. Hear the first toad in the rather cool rain, 10 A. M. See through the dark rain the first flash of lightning, in the west horizon, doubting if it was not a flash of my eye at first, but after a very long interval I hear the low rumbling of the first thunder, and now the summer is baptized and inaugurated in due form. Is not the first lightning the forerunner or warranty of summer heat? The air now contains such an amount of heat that it emits a flash. Speaking to J. B. Moore about the partridges being tun down, he says that he was told by Lexington peo- ple some years ago that they found a duck lying dead under the spire of their old meeting-house (since burned) which stood on the Battle-Ground. The weathercock — and it was a cock in this case — was considerably bent, and the inference was that the duck had flown against it in the night. P. M. — To the yew. Shepherd’s-purse already going to seed; in bloom there some time. Also chickweed; how long? I had thought these would be later, on account of the ground having been so bare, and indeed they did suffer much, but early warm weather forwarded them. That un- questionable staminate Salix humilis beyond yew will not be out for three or four days. Its old leaves on the ground are turned cinder-color, as are those under larger and doubtful forms. Epigza abundantly out, maybe four or five days. It was apparently in its winter state March 28th. Apri 14. Rains still, with one or two flashes of lightning, but soon over. The yew plucked yesterday blossoms in house to- day. P. M. — Up Assabet. The river is a little higher on account of rain. I see much sweet flag six or eight inches long, floating, it having been cut up apparently by musquash. (The 17th I see much of the sparganium cut up close to the bottom along a musquash-path at the bottom of a meadow where there was one foot of water.) My Rana halecina spawn in tumbler is now flatted out and begins to betray the pollywog form. I had already noticed a little motion in it from time to time, but nothing like the incessant activity of the embryo fishes.

P. M. — To sedge-path Salix humilis. I see many planting now. See a pair of woodpeckers.on a rail and on the ground a-courting. One keeps hopping near the other, and the latter hops away a few feet, and so they accompany one another a long distance, uttering sometimes a faint or short a-week. I go to find hylodes spawn. I hear some now peep- ing at mid-afternoon in Potter’s meadow, just north of his swamp. It is hard to tell how far off they are. At a distance they often appear to be nearer than they are; when I get nearer I think them further off than they are; and not till I get their parallax with my eyes by going to one side do I discover their locality. From time to time one utters that peculiar quavering . sound, I suspect of alarm, like that which a hen makes when she sees a hawk. They peep but thinly at this hour of a bright day. Wading about in the meadow there, barelegged, I find the water from time to time, though no deeper than before, exceedingly cold, evidently because there is ice in the meadow there still. Having stood quite still on the edge of the ditch close to the north edge of the maple swamp some time, and heard a slight rustling near me from time to time, I looked round and saw a mink under the bushes within a few feet. It was pure reddish-brown above, with a blackish and somewhat bushy tail, a blunt nose, and somewhat innocent-looking head. It crept along toward me and around me, within two feet, in a semi- circle, snuffing the air, and pausing to look at me several times. Part of its course when nearest me was in the water of the ditch. It then crawled slowly away, and I saw by the ripple where it had taken to the ditch again. Perhaps it was after a frog, like myself. It may have been attracted by the peeping. But how much blacker was the creature I saw April 28th, 1857! A very dif- ferent color, though the tail the same form. The naturalist accomplishes a great deal by patience, more perhaps than by activity. He must take his posi- tion, and then wait and watch. It is equally true of quad- rupeds and reptiles. Sit still in the midst of their haunts. Saw flitting silently through the wood, near the yew, two or three thrushes, much like, at least, the .Turdus Wilson ; a light rmg about eyes, and whitish side of throat (?); rather fox-colored or cinnamon tail, with ashy reflections from edges of primaries; flesh-colored legs. Did not see the breast. Could it have been what I have called T. solitarius? Soon after methought I heard one faint wood thrush note (??).? | ' Vide 2st.

My fish ova in a tumbler has [sic] gradu- ally expanded till it is some three sixteenths of an inch in diameter, and for more than a week the embryos have been conspicuously active, hardly still enough to be observed with a microscope. Their tails, eyes, pectoral fins, etc., were early developed and conspicu- ous. They keep up a regular jerking motion as they lie curved in the egg, and so develop themselves. This morning I set them in the sun, and, looking again soon after, found that they were suddenly hatched, and more than half of them were free of the egg. They were nearly a quarter of an inch long, or longer than the diameter of a perfect egg. The substance of the egg-shell seemed to have expanded and softened, and the embryo by its incessant quirking elongated it so that it was able to extend itself at full length. It then almost incessantly kept up a vibratory motion of its tail and its pectoral fins, and every few moments it bunted against the side of the egg, wearing it away and extend- ing it, till it broke through. Sometimes it got its head out first and then struggled many minutes before it escaped completely. It was a pretty sight to see them all rising immediately to the surface by means of the tail and pectoral fins, the first vibrating from one twentieth to one thirtieth of an inch, at an angle of about forty-five degrees, and then, ceasing their motions, they steadily settled down again. Think of the myriads of these minnows set free of a warm morning, and ris- ing and falling in this wise in their native element! ! (Some are still in the egg on the 18th.) The incessant activity of these minnows, and ap- parent vigor, are surprising. Already they dart swiftly an inch one side like little pickerel, tender as they are, carrying the yolk with them, which gradually dimin- ishes, as I notice, in a day or two after. They have no snouts yet, or only blunt and rounded ones. I have not detected any general resting even at night, though they often rest on the bottom day or night. They are remarkably aroused when placed in the morning sun. This sets them all in motion. Looking at them through a jar between you and the sun, a hundred at once, they reflect the colors of the rainbow,—some purple, others violet, green, etc., etc. It is a wonder how they survive the accidents of their condition. By what in- stinct do they keep together in a school?

P. M. — Via Assabet to Coral Rock. See several kingfishers. Red-wings still in flocks, and crow blackbirds feeding amid leaves by Assabet- side, half a dozen together. The female flowers of the alder are now very pretty when seen against the sun, bright-crimson. I take up a wood turtle on the shore, whose sternum is covered with small ants. The sedge is shooting up in the meadows, erect, rigid, and sharp, a glaucous green unlike that of the grass on banks. The linnzea-like plant turns out to be golden saxifrage. Its leaf is the same form, but smooth and not shrubby. The Rana halecina spawn in tumbler begins to struggle free of the ova, but it is not so much developed as the R. sylvatica. Some of the first may be a little more forward in the meadows. I see some to-day, probably this kind, flatted out, though I do not see the frog. It made the same sound, however. The R. sylva- tica is probably generally the earliest.

P. M. — To Hubbard’s Grove. A dandelion open; will shed pollen to-morrow.