20 March 1854 – 26 March 1854

Tuesday. At sunrise to Clamshell Hill.

Wednesday. P. M.— Launch boat and paddle to Fair Haven. Still very cold. The most splendid show of ice chan- deliers, casters, hour-glasses (4) that I ever saw or imagined about the piers of the bridges, surpassing any crystal, so large. Rather like the bases of columns, Great Waiters a »>-o @ | ’ : COyES an, ~ A 7 = reser: — terraced pedestals, that is it, ——the prototypes of the ornaments of the copings and capitals. Perfect and regular, sharp, cone-shaped drops hang from the first figure a few inches above the water. I should have described it then. It would have filled many pages. Scared up my flock of black ducks and counted forty together. See crows along the water’s edge. What do they eat? Saw a small black duck with glass, — a dipper (?). Fair Haven still covered and frozen anew in part. Shores of meadow strewn with cranberries. The now silvery willow catkins (notwithstanding the severe cold) shine along the shore, over the cold wa- ter, and C. thinks some willow osiers decidedly more yellow.

Thursday. Snows and rains a little. The birds in yard active now, — hyemalis, tree sparrow, and song sparrow. The hyemalis jingle easily distinguished. Hear all together on apple trees these days. Minott confesses to me to-day that he has not been to Boston since the last war, or 1815. Aunt said that he had not been ten miles from home since; that he has not been to Acton since Miss Powers [?] lived there; but he de- clared that he had been there to cornwallis and mus- ters. When I asked if he would like to go to Boston, he answered he was going to another Boston.

Fair again, the snow melting. Great flocks of hyemalis drifting about with their jingling note. The same ducks under Clamshell Hill. The elm buds were apparently expanded before this cold, which began on the 18th. Goose Pond half open. Flint’s has per- haps fifteen or twenty acres of ice yet about shores. Can hardly tell when it is open this year. The black ducks — the most common that I see — are the only ones whose note I know or hear, — a hoarse, croaking quack. How shy they are!

Saturday. Cold and windy. Down river in boat to Great Meadows. Freezes on oars. Too cold and windy almost for ducks. They are in the smoother open water (free from ice) under the lee of hills. Got a boat-load of driftwood, — rails, bridge timber, planks, etc. White maple buds bursting, making trees look like some fruit trees with blossom-buds. Is not the small duck or two I see one at a time and flying pretty high a teal? Willow osiers near Mill Brook mouth I am almost certain have acquired a fresher color; at least they surprise me at a distance by their green passing through yellowish to red at top.

River froze over at Lily Bay.'