29 November 1852 – 5 December 1852

To Pine Hill. The buds of the Populus tremuloides show their down as in early spring, and the early willows. Wood- choppers have commenced some time since. ‘This is another pleasant day. From Pine Hill, Wachusett is seen over Walden. The country seems to slope up from the west end of Walden to the mountain. Already, a little after 4 o’clock, the sparkling windows and vanes of the village, seen under and against the faintly purple-tinged, slate-colored mountains, remind me of a village in a mountainous country at twilight, where early lights appear. I think that this peculiar sparkle without redness, a cold glitter, is peculiar to this season.

To Cliffs. The snow keeps off unusually. The landscape is the color of a russet apple which has no golden cheek. The sunset sky supplies that. But though it be crude to bite, it yields a pleasant acid flavor. The year looks back toward summer, and a summer smile is reflected in her face. There is in these days a coolness in the air which makes me hesitate to call them Indian summer. At this season I observe the form of the buds which are prepared for spring, — the large bright yellowish and reddish buds of the swamp-pink, the already downy once of the Populus tremuloides and the willows, the red ones of the blueberry, etc., the long, sharp ones of the amelanchier, the spear-shaped ones of the viburnum, etc.; also the catkins of the alders and birches.

The pleasantest day of all. Started in boat before 9 A. M. down river to Billerica with W. E. C.