April 29, 2012
P M. — To Cliffs by boat in the misty rain. The barn swallows are very numerous, flying low over the water in the rain. This is the second day of rain, and the river has risen about as high as any time this year.
What an entertainment this river affords! It is subject to so great overflows, owing to its broad intervals, that a day's rain produces a new landscape. Let it rain heavily one whole day, and the river will be increased from half a dozen rods in width to nearly a mile in some places, and, where I walked dry-shod yesterday a-maying, I sail with a smacking breeze to-day, and fancy that I am a sailor on the ocean.
It is an advantage which all towns do not possess.
Off the Cliffs, I meet a blue heron flying slowly downstream. He flaps slowly and heavily, his long, level, straight and sharp bill projecting forward, then his keel-like neck doubled up, and finally his legs thrust out straight behind. He alights on a rock, and stands erect awhile.
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