As I am going across to Bear Garden Hill, I see much white Polygala sanguinea with the red in A. Wheeler’s meadow (next to Potter’s). Also much of the Bartonia tenella, which has been out some days at least, five rods from ditch, and three from Potter’s fence.
Went through Potter’s Aster Radula swamp this dog-day afternoon. As I make my way amid rank weeds still wet with the dew, the air filled with a decaying musty scent and the z-ing of small locusts, I hear the distant sound of a flail, and thoughts of autumn occupy my mind, and the memory of past years. Some late rue leaves on a broken twig have turned all a uniform clear purple.