August royal and rich. Green corn now, and melons have begun. That month, surely, is distinguished when melons ripen. July could not do it . . .

  P.M.—To Walden and Saw Mill Brook.

  These days are very warm, though not so warm as it was in June. The heat is furnace-like while I am climbing the steep bills covered with shrubs on the north of Walden, through sweet-fern as high as one’s head. The goldfinch sings er, twe, twotter twotter . . .