November 19, 1850

in Thoreau’s Journal:

There was also the columbine, its leaves still alive and green; and I was pleased to smell the pennyroyal which I had bruised, though this dried up long ago. Each season is thus drawn out and lingers in certain localities, as the birds and insects know very well.

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If you penetrate to some warm recess under a cliff in the woods, you will be astonished at the amount of summer life that still flourishes there.

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