Very low thunder-clouds and showers far in the north at sunset, the wind of which, though not very strong, has cooled the air. See the lightning, but can not hear the thunder. I see in the northwest first rise, in the rose-tinted horizon sky, a dark, narrow, craggy cloud, narrow and projecting as no cloud on earth, seen against the rose-tinged sky, — the crest of a thunder-storm, beautiful and grand.
The steadily increasing sound of toads and frogs along the river with each successive warmer night is one of the most important peculiarities of the season. Their prevalence and loudness is in proportion to the increased temperature of the day. It is the first earth-song, beginning with the croakers, (the cricket's not yet), as if the very meads at last burst into a meadowy song.
Methinks we always have at this time those washing winds as now, when the choke-berry is in bloom, — bright and breezy days blowing off some apple blossoms.
H. D. Thoreau, Journal, May 20, 1854
The steadily increasing sound of toads . . with each successive warmer night . . . See May 16, 1855 ("We hear these last two or three warm days the loud sound of toads borne on or amid the rippling wind.")
Methinks we always have at this time . . . bright and breezy days blowing off some apple blossoms. . . See May 19, 1860 ("There is a stong southwest wind after the rain, rather novel and agreeable, blowing off some apple blossoms.”); May 27 1852 ("The road is white with the apple blossoms fallen off, as with snowflakes.”); June 1, 1855 ("A very windy day, . . . scattering the remaining apple blossoms.”)
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