1893.
April 20
Concord, Massachusetts.
  Cloudy with strong E. wind. Rain, sleet & snow
in the afternoon. A raw, dismal day.
[margin]To 
Ball's Hill[/margin]
  At 9 A.M. I launched the open canoe and
started down river. A Tree Sparrow was singing in the
orchard as I pushed off but I heard nothing else
except Crows and a Flicker during the voyage to
Ball's Hill. The grass was green and growing on the
meadows where the water had left it and on the
bank in front of the cabin at Ball's Hill it was
very green. Willow pussies conspicuous along the 
edge of the river & meadows.
I spent part of the day in the cabin and visited
Davis's Hill twice, once by land and once by boat.
Pat was working on the island ridge in the Davis
swamp and I helped him in the afternoon for two
hours or more until the snow &[and] sleet began & drove
us both home. Although the water has fallen a good
deal I crossed the Great Meadows, sailing the entire
distance to the Buttricks. On the way I started 
a pair of Gooseanders which rose high in air &[and] made
off down river. Pat flushed a Partridge in the Davis swamp.
[margin]Gooseanders [/margin]
  Small birds were nearly or quite as scarce, apparently,
as they are in mid winter. The woods & fields
seemed utterly deserted & there was practically no
singing. I saw a single Yellow-Red-poll Warbler in
birches and one Red-wing on a maple, singing, as I
was on my way home. 
  The only bird singing at Ball's Hill was a Grass Finch
which was chanting at short intervals in oak woods near
the west end of the hill.
[margin]Grass Finch
singing in 
woods[/margin]