richness of the heavens distilled and poured upon the earth, contrasting with the clear russet land and the paler sky from which it has been subtracted, nothing can be more elysian. Is not the blue more ethereal when the sun is at this angle? The river is but a long chain of flooded meadows. I think our most distant, extensive low horizon must be that northeast from this hill over Ball's Hill. It is down the river valley partly, at least, toward the Merrimack, as it should be.
April 7, 1854. 6 a. m. Down railroad to Cliffs. The Populus tremuloides in a day or two. The hazel stigmas are well out and the catkins loose, but no pollen shed yet. On the Cliff I find after long and careful search one sedge above the rocks low amid the withered blades of last year, out, its little yellow beard amid the dry blades and a few green ones, the first herbaceous flowering I have detected. Fair Haven is completely open.
April 7, 1855. At six this morning to Clam-shell. . . . . See thirty or forty goldfinches in a dashing flock, in all respects, notes and all, like lesser red-polls. . . . . On the trees and on the railroad bank there is a general twittering and an occasional mew. Then they alight on the ground to feed, along with the Fringilla hiemalis and fox-colored sparrows. They are
