A straggling flock of migrating crows contends with the strong northwest wind.

October 20. 

. P. M— . To Ripple Lake.

Dug some artichokes behind Alcott's, the largest about one inch in diameter. Now apparently is the time to begin to dig them, the plant being considerably frost-bitten. Tried two or three roots. The main root ran down straight about six inches, and then terminated abruptly. They have quite a nutty taste eaten raw. 

What is that flat, spreading festuca-like grass, just killed, behind A.'s house? 

As I go to Clintonia Swamp along the old cross-road, I see a large and very straggling flock of crows fly southwest from over the hill behind Bull's and contending with the strong and cold northwest wind. This is the annual phenomenon. They are on their migrations. 

The beach plum is nearly bare, and so is the woodbine on the brick house. The wild red cherry by A. Brooks's Hollow is completely fallen; how long? The sand cherry in my field path is almost entirely bare. Some chinquapin is half fallen. 

Scare up a yellow-legs, apparently the larger, on the shore of Walden. It goes off with a sharp phe phe, phe phe. 

This is the coldest day as yet; wind from the northwest. It is finger-cold as I come home, and my hands find their way to my pocket. I learn the next day that snow fell to-day in northern New York and New Hampshire, and that accounts for it.

We feel the cold of it here as soon as the telegraph can inform us.

La Mountain's adventure has taught us how swiftly the wind may travel to us from that quarter.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, October 20, 1859

I see a large and very straggling flock of crows fly southwest from over the hill behind Bull's and contending with the strong and cold northwest wind.  See November 1, 1853 ("As I return, I notice crows flying southwesterly in a very long straggling flock, of which I see probably neither end.”); Compare March 5, 1854 ("And crows, as I think, migrating northeasterly. They come in loose, straggling flocks, about twenty to each, commonly silent, a quarter to a half a mile apart, till four flocks have passed, perhaps more. Methinks I see them going southwest in the fall.")

Scare up a yellow-legs, apparently the larger, on the shore of Walden. See September 14, 1854 ("A flock of thirteen tell tales, great yellow-legs, start up with their shrill whistle from the midst of the great Sudbury meadow, and away they sail in a flock. . .to alight in a more distant place.”); September 26, 1859 ("Hearing a sharp phe-phe and again phe-phe-phe, I look round and see two (probably larger) yellow-legs, like pigeons, standing in the water by the bare, flat ammannia shore, their whole forms reflected in the water. They allow me to paddle past them, though on the alert.")

This is the coldest day as yet; wind from the north west. Compare October 20, 1858 (“Another remarkably warm and pleasant day, if not too hot for walking; 74° at 2 P. M. ”)

We feel the cold of it here as soon as the telegraph can inform us. See August 26, 1854 ("Hear by telegraph that it rains in Portland and New York."); May 31, 1856 ("It has been very cold for two or three days, and to-night a frost is feared. The telegraph says it snowed in Bangor to-day")

La Mountain's adventure . In September 1859, John La Mountain, a piooneering baloonist made an ascension from Watertown, New York across Minnesota and Michigan. drifted over the Canadian wilderness, and spent the four days wandering in the wilderness .~ Wikipedea

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