Thoreau writes in his journal:
I hear a hylodes (?) from time to time. Shrub oaks are red, some of them. Hear the loud laughing of a loon on Flint’s, apparently alone in the middle. A wild sound, heard far and suited to the wildest lake . . .
Thoreau writes in his journal:
I hear a hylodes (?) from time to time. Shrub oaks are red, some of them. Hear the loud laughing of a loon on Flint’s, apparently alone in the middle. A wild sound, heard far and suited to the wildest lake . . .