88 EARLY SPRING IN MASSACHUSETTS. 
crystallizing it. I must be on the lookout now 
for gulls and the ducks. That dark-blue mead¬ 
owy revelation. It is as when the sap of the 
maple bursts forth early and runs down the 
trunk to the snow. Saw two or three hawks 
sailing.Saw some very large willow buds 
expanded (their silk) to thrice the length of 
.their scales, indistinctly barred or waved with 
darker lines around them. They look more 
like, are more of spring than anything else I 
have seen. Heard the spring note of the chick¬ 
adee now before any spring bird has arrived. 
March 8, 1854. What pretty wreaths the 
mountain cranberry makes, curving upward at 
the extremity. The leaves are now a dark red, 
and wreath and all are of such a shape as might 
fitly be copied in wood or stone, or architectural 
foliage. 
March 8, 1855. As the ice melts in the 
swamps I see the horn-shaped buds of the 
skunk cabbage, green with a bluish bloom, 
standing uninjured, ready to feel the influence 
of the sun, more prepared for spring, to look at, 
than any other plant. 
March 8, 1857. When I cut a white pine 
twig, the crystalline sap at once exudes. How 
long has it been thus ? Got a glimpse of a 
hawk, the first of the season. The tree spar¬ 
rows sing a little on the still, sheltered, and 
