methinks I should hear with indifference if a trustworthy messenger were to inform me that the sun drowned himself last night
4.27.2006
Thoreau's Journal: 27-Apr-1860
I stand under Lee’s Cliff. There is a certain summeriness in the air now, especially under a warm cliff like this, where you smell the very dry leaves, and hear the pine warbler and the hum of a few insects,—small gnats, etc.—and see considerable growth and greenness. Though it is still windy, there is, nevertheless, a certain serenity and long-lifeness in the air, as if it were a habitable place and not merely to be hurried through. The noon of the year is approaching. Nature seems meditating a siesta.
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1 comment:
I wonder what Thoreau would have made of a good pair of binoculars. Even the relatively plan pine warbler is lovely when scooped in at 10X.
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