You see the dark eye and shade of June on the river as well as on land.

June 6. 

P. M.— Up Assabet by boat to survey Hosmer’s field. 

On the Island I hear still the redstart—tsip tsip tsip tsip, tsit-i-yet, or sometimes tsip tsip tsip tsip, tse vet. A young male. It repeats this at regular intervals for a long time, sitting pretty still now. 

Waxwork open and pollen one or two days. 

I notice a clam lying up, and two or three cleared or light-colored places, apparently bream-nests commenced.

You see the dark eye and shade of June on the river as well as on land, and a dust-like tint on river, apparently from the young leaves and bud-scales, covering the waters, which begin to be smooth, and imparting a sense of depth. 

Blue-eyed grass maybe several days in some places. One thimble-berry blossom done— probably several days. 

There are now those large swarms of black-winged millers a half-inch long, with two long streamers ahead, fluttering three to six inches over the water; not long, methinks; also other insects. 

I see a yellow-spotted tortoise twenty rods from river, and a painted one four rods from it which has just made a hole for her eggs. 

Two catbirds’ nests in the thickest part of the thicket on the edge of Wheeler’s meadow near Island. One done laying (I learn after); four eggs, green, —much darker green than the robin’s and more slender in proportion. This is loosely placed in the forks of a broad alternate or silky cornel bush, about five feet from the ground, and is composed of dead twigs and a little stubble, then grape vine bark, and is lined with dark root-fibres. 

Another, eight rods beyond, rests still more loosely on a Viburnum dentatum and birch; has some dry leaves with the twigs, and one egg,—about six feet high. The bird hops within five feet.

The white maple keys are about half fallen. It is remarkable that this happens at the time the emperor moth (cecropia) comes out. 

Carex crinita, a few days, along bank of Assabet. Whiteweed, Merrick’s pasture shore, these two or three days. 

The Salix cordata (which apparently blossomed some days after the S. sericea) is very common on Prichard’s shore and also Whiting’s. Also at the last place is a small shrub, ——a little of it, — perhaps S. lucida, which apparently blossomed about same time, or a day or two after, the sericea.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, June 6, 1855

Two catbirds’ nests in the thickest part of the thicket . . . See June 6, 1856 ("A catbird nest on shore of Andromeda and in shrub oak, three feet high, twigs and bark shreds lined with root-fibres; three eggs.")

The dark eye and shade of June. See  June 4, 1855 ("dark shadows on field and wood are the more remarkable by contrast with the light yellow-green foliage now, and when they rest on evergreens they are doubly dark, like dark rings about the eyes of June. "); June 4, 1860 (" . . . a grateful but thin shade, like a coarse sieve, so open that we see the fluttering of each leaf in its shadow.”); June 9. 1856 ("Now I notice where an elm is in the shadow of a cloud,—the black elm-tops and shadows of June. It is a dark eyelash which suggests a flashing eye beneath. It suggests houses that lie under the shade, the repose and siesta of summer noons, the thunder-cloud, bathing, and all that belongs to summer. ") June 11, 1856 ("I observe and appreciate the shade, as it were the shadow of each particular leaf on the ground. I think that this peculiar darkness of the shade, or of the foliage as seen between you and the sky, is not accounted for merely by saying that we have not yet got accustomed to clothed trees, but the leaves are rapidly acquiring a darker green, are more and more opaque, and, besides, the sky is lit with the intensest light. It reminds me of the thunder-cloud and the dark eyelash of summer. ");  June 26, 1854 ("I am struck, as I look toward the Dennis shore from the bathing-place, with the peculiar agreeable dark shade of June, a clear air, and bluish light on the grass and bright silvery light reflected from fresh green leaves.");June 30, 1860 ("The shadows under the edge of woods are less noticed now because the woods themselves are darker.”); July 3, 1854 ("The leaves have so multiplied that you cannot see through the trees; these are solid depths of shade, on the surface of which the light is variously reflected.”)