Thus far we have had very little if any freshet this year, none since spring came in, I believe. The river has been going down a month, at least.
Starlight by river up Assabet. Now, at early starlight, I hear the snipe's note as he circles over Nawshawtuct Meadow. Only once did I seem to see him; occasionally his squeak. He is now heard near, now farther, but is sure to circle round again. It sounds very much like a winnowing-machine increasing rapidly in intensity for a few seconds.
There will be no moon till toward morning. A slight mist is rising from the surface of the water.
There are but three elements in the landscape now -- the star-studded sky, the water, reflecting the stars and the lingering daylight, and the dark but comparatively narrow land between. At first there was no fog.
Hear clucks, disturbed, make a quacking or loud croaking. Now, at night, the scent of muskrats is very strong in particular localities. Next to the skunk it is perceived further than that of any of our animals that I think of. I perceive no difference between this and the musk with which ladies scent themselves, though here I pronounce it a strong, rank odor. In the faint reflected twilight, I distinguish one rapidly swimming away from me, leaving a widening ripple behind, and now hear one plunge from some willow or rock.
Ascend Nawshawtuct. See a fire in horizon toward Boston. The first spearer's fire I have noticed is floating along the meadow-side in the south. The mist is now all gone. The baying of dogs is borne to me with great loudness down the river. We still have the wolf in the village. (1853)
