in Thoreau’s Journal:
This is the third warm day, the warmest of all. The Andromeda Ponds methinks look redder. I walked through one. The lowest growth is sphagnum, fresh, large, and handsome, some green, some red, into which occasionally I slumped nearly a foot. Some lamb kill is mixed with the andromeda. A few islands of gray high blueberry bushes, with round red buds, rise here and there mixed with the panicled andromeda, large cottongrass, now prostrate, etc. The pitcher-plant leaves are still for the most part green and uninjured here, though full of ice.
Many have holes in their sides, through which insects appear to have eaten out. However, the external ear or handle is also eaten through, so the agent may have been without.
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