July 19, 1851

 in Thoreau’s Journal

Yesterday it was spring & to-morrow it will be autumn— Where is the summer then? First came the St. Johns wort & now the golden rod to admonish us. I hear too a cricket amid these stones under the blackberry vines—singing as in the fall. Ripe blackberries are multiplying.


I see the red-spotted berries of the small solomons seal in my path.


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