270 EARLY SPRING IN MASSACHUSETTS. 
they were absolutely undiscoverable. They no 
longer stood out around the core, so delicate was 
their organization. It made me doubt almost 
if there were not actual, substantial, though in¬ 
visible cores to the leaflets and veins of the 
boar frost. Can these almost invisible and ten¬ 
der fibres penetrate the earth where there is no 
cavern ? Or is what we call the solid earth 
porous and cavernous enough for them ? 
March 29, 1855. As I stand on Heywood’s 
Peak looking over Walden, more than half its 
surface already sparkling blue water, I inhale 
with pleasure the cold but wholesome air, like 
a draught of cold water, contrasting it in my 
memory with the wind of summer which I do 
not thus eagerly swallow. This, which is a 
chilling wind to my fellow, is decidedly refresh¬ 
ing to me. I swallow it with eagerness as a 
panacea. I feel an impulse also already to jump 
into the half-melted pond. This cold wind is 
refreshing to my palate as the warm air of sun¬ 
shine is not, methinks. 
March 29, 1858. . . . . P. M. To Ball’s 
Hill.As I sit two thirds up the sunny 
side of Pine Hill looking over the meadows, 
now almost completely bare, the crows, by their 
swift flight and scolding, reveal to me some large 
bird of prey hovering over the river. I per¬ 
ceive by its marking and size that it cannot be 
