woods on the meadow side, I literally stepped
into the middle of a large broad of young Grouse
perhaps half grown. They rose on every side of 
me with a startling whir and flutter and at 
once vanished in the wall of foliage behind,
but the mother insisted of following them, brave
by remained gliding swiftly about me through
the grass, whining exactly like a dog.
  The birds still sing with much vigor.
The water in the river is falling steadily; the 
channel chocking up in places with Polygou[?] etc
The Bull-frogs trump less after than a week ago.
No cicades jet. Bobahuks singing with unabated
vigor but less frequently.