A large hickory apparently just blown down, the one I saw the screech owl go into two or three years ago.

April 23. 

Rain, rain. 

Hear seringo, by chance the first, and while it rains. 

The tree sparrows abundant and singing in the yard, but I have not noticed a hyemalis of late. 

The field sparrow sings in our yard in the rain. 

The sidewalk is all strewn with fishworms this forenoon, up and down the street, and many will evidently die in the cold rain. Apparently the rain tempted them to remain on the surface, and then the cold and wet benumbs and drowns them. Some of them are slowly crawling across the paths. What an abundant supply of food for the birds lately arrived!

From Gilbert White, and the notes by others to his last edition, I should infer that these were worms which, having been tempted out in unusual numbers by the rain, lost their way back to their holes. They say that they never take their tails out of their holes. 

In about five quarts of scarlet oak acorns gathered the other day there [were] only some three gills that had life in them, or say one in seven. I do not know how many the squirrels had got, but as it was quite near a house, a tree by itself, I think not a great many. The rest were apparently destroyed by worms; so that I should say the worms destroyed before spring three fourths of them. As the grub is already in the acorn, it may be just as well (except for the squirrels) to sow them now as in the fall, whatever you can get. 

Clears up at 3 p. m., and a very strong south wind blows. 

I go on the water. I frequently observe that the waves do not always run high in proportion to the strength of the wind. The wind seems sometimes to flat them down, perhaps when it blows very hard in gusts, which interrupt a long roll. 

What is that small willow on the north side of S. Brown's stump, which apparently began to open two days ago? 

A large hickory by the wall on the north side (or northeast side) of the hill apparently just blown down, the one I saw the screech owl go into two or three years ago. I think it may have fallen in this very high wind which arose within an hour; at any rate it has fallen since the grass began to spring, for the owl-hole contains a squirrel's nest made of half-green grass some what withered, which could only have been found quite recently, and also the limbs have been driven so deep into the ground that I cannot pull them out, which shows that the ground was thawed when it fell; also the squirrel's nest, which is perfectly sheltered, now the tree is fallen, was quite wet through with rain, that of the morning, as I think. 

This nest, which I suppose was that of a red squirrel, was at the bottom of a large hole some eighteen inches deep and twenty-five feet from the ground, where a large limb had been broken off formerly. An opening on the side had been stopped with twigs as big as a pipe-stem and larger, some of them the hickory twigs quite green and freshly gnawed off with their buds, forming a rude basketwork which kept up and in the grass and rotten wood, four or five handfuls of which, mixed with the rotten wood of the inside, composed the nest. This was the half old and withered and half green grass gathered a few days since about the base of the tree.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, April 23, 1859

Hear seringo, by chance the first, and while it rains See April 22, 1856 ("The seringo also sits on a post, with a very distinct yellow line over the eye, and the rhythm of its strain is ker chick | ker che | ker-char—r-r-r-r | chick,")  See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Savannah Sparrow (Fringilla savanna)

But I have not noticed a hyemalis of late. Compare April 23, 1854 ("A rain is sure to bring the tree sparrow and hyemalis to the gardens"). See April 17, 1854 ("There are but few F. hyemalis about now; they appear to have gone north mostly on the advent of warmer weather."); April 17, 1855 (" I  do not remember an F. hyemalis for two days"); and  notes to March 14, 1858 and October 5, 1857 ( F. hyemalis . . . only transiently visit us in spring and fall.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, The Dark-eyed Junco

The field sparrow sings in our yard in the rain. See April 23, 1854 (" A rain is sure to bring the tree sparrow and hyemalis to the gardens."). See also April 27, 1852 ("Heard the field or rush sparrow this morning (Fringilla juncorum), George Minott's "huckleberry-bird." It sits on a birch and sings at short intervals,. . .; sounding like phe, phe, phe, pher-pher-tw-tw-tw-t-t-t-t, — the first three slow and loud, the next two syllables quicker, and the last part quicker and quicker, becoming a clear, sonorous trill or rattle, like a spoon in a saucer"). and A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the Field Sparrow; A Book of the Seasons by Henry Thoreau, Birds in the Rain

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The sidewalk is all strewn with fishworms this forenoon. See May 4, 1857 (" I see in the footpath across the Common, where water flows or has flown, a great many worms, apparently drowned.")

A large hickory by the wall on the north side (or northeast side) of the hill , the one I saw the screech owl go into two or three years ago. See May 25, 1855 ("Scared a screech owl out of an apple tree on hill; flew swiftly off . . . then flew into a hole high in a hickory near by")

The nest of a red squirrel forming a rude basketwork. See April 1, 1858 ("I see a squirrel's nest twenty-three or twenty-four feet high in a large maple, and, climbing to it, —for it was so peculiar, having a basketwork of twigs about it.")  See also Henry Thoreau, A Book of the Seasons, The Red Squirrel.