Breezy Point, Warren, N.H.
1894
June 17
Sunday. - Clear and very warm. Distant thunder showers in
the evening.
  After breakfast Faxon and I took a path which follows
up the course of the brook just below the house. After
walking for two or three hundred yards we came to a
pretty spot where we spent the entire forenoon, sitting
under the shade of a big maple writing our notes and
talking. On one side was the brook snaking down over
a rocky bed beneath an arch of dense foliage, soothing
our senses with the delicious rustle and soughing of
its foaming waters. On the other side rose the steep slope
of a ridge covered with large yellow & paper birches, spruces,
balsams, hemlocks and sugar maples. Along the edges of
the path grew bushy young pastured spruces & balsams
singly or in clusters with openings of turf at intervals.
  The Winter Wren, Black & Yellow Warbler, Blackburnian Warbler,
Olive-backed Thrush, Hermit Thrush, Junco, White-throated
Sparrow, and Red-eyed Vireo all sang more or less
frequently within hearing and a Robin, sitting on a dead
branch in the top of an old sugar maple, serenaded us
almost without cessation. He was a fine singer this
Robin with a voice full of earnestness and hope.
  A Downy Woodpecker - with young, doubtless - showed evident
concern at our presence flitting about among the trees over
the Brook, making a noise very similar to the snickering
outburst of the Red Squirrel.
  A pretty, confiding little Chipmunk was also one of our
[margin]Picus pubes-
cens. Peculiar
cry of bird
with young.[/margin]