Friday, September 17, 2010

Up river.

September 17.

See a flock of eight or ten wood ducks on the Grind stone Meadow, with glass, some twenty-five rods off, — several drakes very handsome. They utter a creaking scream as they sail there, — being alarmed, — from time to time, shrill and loud, very unlike the black duck. 

At last one sails off, 
calling the others by a 
short creaking note.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, September 17, 1860


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