n 23 n 



May 22, 1854. Now the springing foliage is like a 

 sunlight on the woods. I was first attracted and sur- 

 prised when I looked round and off to Conantum, 

 at the smooth, lawn-like green fields and pasturing 

 cows, bucolical, reminding me of new butter. The 

 air so clear — as not in summer — makes all things 

 shine, as if all surfaces had been washed by the 

 rains of spring and were not yet soiled or begrimed 

 or dulled. You see even to the mountains clearly. 

 The grass so short and fresh, the tender yellowish- 

 green and silvery foliage of the deciduous trees 

 lighting up the landscape, the birds now most musi- 

 cal, the sorrel beginning to redden the fields with 

 ruddy health, — all these things make earth now a 

 paradise. How many times I have been surprised 

 thus, on turning about on this very «pot, at the 

 fairness of the earth! 



Journal, vi, 289. 



