1892
June 21
(No 4)
Concord, Massachusetts.
[margin]The river at
sunset.[/margin]
Mass.
Concord.- 7.15 P.M. - passing through the "Holt". The
sun is just sinking out of sight, the breeze has died.
On the S.W. horizon rests a great cloud its outlines
resembling those of a mountain, one end breaking
down abruptly in a precipice with overhanging brow,
the whole cloud tinged salmon & ashes of roses
and strongly luminous as if the sun were shining
through it from beyond.
  Robins, Redwings, Song Sparrows, Bobolinks (2), Yellow
Warblers (2), an Oriole, Black-billed Cuckoo, Meadow Lark
Maryland Yellow-throat & Field Sparrow singing, a Bluebird
warbling very softly & sweetly (the song seems to me
much finer now than in early spring), King Birds
twittering, Sandpipers put-weeting. Bank Sparrows
and one Barn Swallow darting about among the
dragon flies close above and around me. Now a
Long-billed Marsh Wren, the first I have heard, sings
in the meadow just to the south of the head of the Holt.
Musk-rats cut thin silvery furrows across the
burnished surface of the sluggish stream. I
press two of them closely & force them to give
up the masses of green herbage which they are
bearing to their nests. One load proves to be
made up wholly of the stalks of the sweet flag,
the other of a short, wiry grass that grows along
the banks.
[margin]Birds singing
at sunset[/margin]
[margin]Musk rats[/margin]
  Bull Frogs trump and Green Frogs thump all around
me. Now I hear the [?] squawk of the Toad.
The canary grass along the banks forms a gray-
green wall higher than a man's head in places.
At the swimming place I hear two Savanna Sparrows.