Posted by sydney on Jul 8th, 1777
Rain, rain, rain. Bees cluster round the mouth of one hive; but cannot swarm. Bees must be starved soon, having no weather fit for gathering honey no sun, nor dry days. A swarm of bees, which had waited many days for an opportunity, came-out in a short gleam of sunshine just before an heavy shower, between 3 & 4 in the afternoon, & settled on the balm of Gilead-fir. When an hive was fixed over them they went into it of themselves. The young swallows that come out are shivering, & ready to starve.
Posted by sydney on Jul 7th, 1777
Winter-like: we are obliged to keep fires.
Posted by sydney on Jul 6th, 1777
My st foin lies in a rotting state. Birds are very voracious in their squab state, as appears from the consequences of eating which they eject from their nests in marvelous quantities: as they arrive so rapidly at their full maturity, much nutrition must necessarily be wanted.
Posted by sydney on Jul 4th, 1777
New moon. The vines begin to blow. They blowed in 1774 June 26: in 1775 June 7: & in 1776 June 25.
Posted by sydney on Jul 1st, 1777
Some laboureres digging for stone found in an hole in the rock a red-breast’s nest containing one young cuckow half-fledged. The wonder was how the old cuckow could discover a nest in so secret, & sequestered a place.