The Natural History of Selborne

Gluts of rain, much thunder.  The trees & hedges are much broken, & the thatch is torn.  Much damage done to the shipping: chimneys, & some houses blown down in London.

Hogs are put-up in their fatting pens.  The hanging woods are beautifully tinged.

Vast shower.

Red-wings appear.

Found the Sphinx atropos, or death’s-head moth, a noble insect, of vast size: it lays it’s eggs on the Jasmine.  When handled, it makes a little, stridulous noise.  A squirrel in my hedges.  Insects retreat into the roof of my new building.

Vast fog, sweet day.  Gossamer abounds.

Fine autumnal weather.  Mr Richardon’s nectarines & peaches still in perfection.

What becomes of those massy clouds that often incumber the atmosphere in the day, & yet disappear in the evening.  Do they melt down into dew?  * Some of the store wethers on this down now prove fat, & weigh 15 pounds a quarter.  This incident never befals but in long dry seasons; & then the mutton has a delicate flavour.

Bright stars.  This day, Mr Richardson of Bramshot shot a wood-cock: it was large & plump & a female: it lay in a moorish piece of ground.  This bird was sent to London, where as the porter carryed it along the streets he was offered a guinea for it.