in Thoreau’s Journal:
1852
The air is full of the odor of apple blossoms— Yet the air is fresh as from the salt water. The meadow smells sweet as you go along low places in the road at sundown.
1853
A new season has commenced – summer- leafy June….The buttercups in the churchyard are now in perfection.
1854
The season of grass, now everywhere green and luxuriant.
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