Jan. 5, 1853. To Kibbe Place Swamp. I see where probably a red squirrel had scratched along over the snow, and in one place a very...

Jan. 4. 1853. To what I will call Yellow Birch Swamp, E. Hubbard's, in north part of town. The landscape is white, not only from the ice...

Jan. 3, 1852. Oak-apples are a winter fruit. The leaves being gone, they are now conspicuous and shine in the sun. Some trees are quite...

Jan. 2, 1854. The trees are white with a hoar frost this morning, small leafets, a tenth of an inch long, on every side of the twigs. ...

Jan. 1, 1842. The rude pioneer work of this world has been done by the most devoted worshippers of beauty. Their resolution has...