June 13.
Friday. To Worcester.
See the common iris in meadow in Acton.
Brown shows me from his window the word “guano” written on the grass in a field near the hospital, say three quarters of a mile distant. It was one of the lions of Worcester last year, and I can now read some of the letters distinctly, so permanent are the effects of the guano. The letters may be two or more rods long, and the green is darker and more luxuriant. (On the side of a hill.)
H. D. Thoreau, Journal, June 13, 1856
Showing posts with label guano. Show all posts
Showing posts with label guano. Show all posts
Monday, June 13, 2016
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A journal, a book that shall contain a record of all your joy.