EARLY SPRING IN MASSACHUSETTS. 
ing of liens which have come abroad. The ice 
at Walden is softened. With a stick you can 
loosen it to the depth of an inch, or the first 
freezing, and turn it up in cakes. Yesterday 
you could skate here, now only close to the 
south shore. I notice the redness of the an- 
dromeda leaves, but not so much as once. The 
sand foliage is now in its prime. 
March 1, 1855. It is a very- pleasant and 
warm day, the finest yet, with considerable 
coolness in the air, however. Winter still. The 
air is beautifully clear, and through it I love to 
trace at a distance the roofs and outlines of 
sober-colored farm-houses amid the woods. We 
go listening for bluebirds, but only hear crows 
and chickadees. A fine seething air over the 
fair russet fields. The dusty banks of snow 
by the railroad reflect a wonderfully dazzling 
white from their pure crannies, being melted 
into an uneven, sharp-wavy surface. This more 
dazzling white must be due to the higher sun. 
March 1, 1856. 9 A. M. To Flint’s Pond 
via Walden, by railroad and the crust. I hear 
the hens cackle as not before for many months. 
Are they not beginning to lay ? The catkins 
of the willow by the causeway and of the as¬ 
pens appear to have pushed out a little farther 
than a month ago. I see the down of half a 
dozen on that willow by the causeway, on the 
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