FEBRUARY 



19 



See a large flock of snow buntings, the white 

 birds of the winter, rejoicing in the snow. I stand 

 near a flock in an open field. They are trotting 

 about briskly over the snow, amid the weeds, ap- 

 parently pig-weed and Roman wormwood, as if to 

 keep their toes warm hopping up to the weeds. 

 Then they suddenly take to wing again, and as they 

 wheel about one, it is a very rich sight to see them 

 dressed in black and white uniforms, alternate 

 black and white, very distinct and singular. 



THOKEAU : Early Spring in Massachusetts. 



2O 



If you are sick and despairing, go forth in win- 

 ter and see the red alder catkins dangling at the 

 extremity of the twigs all in the wintry air, like 

 long, hard mulberries, promising a new spring and 

 the fulfillment of all our hopes. We prize any ten- 

 derness, any softening in the winter, catkins, birds' 

 nests, insect life, etc. The most I get, perchance, 

 is the sight of a mulberry-like red catkin, which I 

 know has a dormant life in it seemingly greater 

 than my own. 



THOBKAC: Winter. 



