EARLY SPRING IN MASSACHUSETTS. 3 
shone. Though the twigs were few that I saw, 
I remember it as a prominent phenomenon af¬ 
fecting the face of nature, a gladdening of her 
face. You will often fancy that they look 
brighter before the spring has come, and when 
there has been no change in them. Thermome¬ 
ter at 10° at 10 P. M. 
February 24, 1857. A fine spring morning. 
The ground is almost completely bare again. 
There has been a frost in the night. Now at 
half past eight it is melted and wets my feet 
like a dew. The water on the meadow this 
still bright morning is smooth as in April. I 
am surprised to hear the strain of a song-spar¬ 
row from the river side, and as I cross from the 
causeway to the hill, thinking of the bluebird, 
I that instant hear one’s note from deep in the 
softened air. It is already 40°. By noon it 
is between 50° and 60°. As the day advances 
I hear more bluebirds, and see their azure 
flakes settling on the fence posts. Their short 
rich warble curls through the air. Its grain 
now lies parallel to the bluebird’s warble, like 
boards of the same lot. It seems to be one of 
those early springs of which we have heard, but 
which we have never experienced. 
I have seen the probings of skunks for a 
week or more. I now see where one has 
pawed out the worn dust or chankings from 
