Thoreau writes in his journal:
I go through Brooks’s Hollow. The hazels bare, only here and there a few sere, curled leaves on them. The red cherry is bare. The blue flag seed-vessels at Walden are bursting,—six closely packed brown rows . . .
Thoreau writes in his journal:
I go through Brooks’s Hollow. The hazels bare, only here and there a few sere, curled leaves on them. The red cherry is bare. The blue flag seed-vessels at Walden are bursting,—six closely packed brown rows . . .
