the Thoreau Log.
19 August 1851.

Thoreau writes in his journal:

  Now, at 5 am, the fog, which in the west looks like a wreath of hard-rolled cotton-batting, is rapidly dispersing. The echo of the railroad whistle is heard the horizon round; the gravel train is starting out. The farmers are cradling oats in some places . . .

  P.M.—To Marlborough Road via Clamshell Hill, Jenny Dugan’s, Round Pond, Canoe Birch Road (Deacon Dakin’s), and White Pond . . . Gathered our first watermelon to-day.

(Journal, 2:401-408)

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