The Natural History of Selborne

Ricked my hay, which makes but a very small cob.  All the produce of the great mead was carried at two loads; & all that grew on the slip was brought up by the woman & boy on their backs.  My quantity this year seems to be about one third of a good crop.  In a plentiful year I gat about seven good Jobbs.  Thatched the rick.

Some young Swifts seem to be out: they settle on, & cling to the walls of houses, & seem to be at a loss where to go; are perhaps looking for their nest.

Young cocci abound again on the vines.  Began to cut the meadow-grass: it is very scanty, not half a crop.  Men sow turnips; but the seeds lie on the ground without vegetating.  Those that sprout are soon eaten by the fly.

Gathered several pounds of cherries to preserve: they are very fine.

The heat at noon yeasterday was so great that it scorched the white cucumbers under the hand-glasses, & injured them much.  Annuals die with the heat.  Took away the moss from the white cucumbers, because it seemed to scald them.

Timothy Turner cuts the St foin on Baker’s hill: this is the 18th crop; & not a bad one, the severity of the drought considered.  My balsams are fine tall plants, & well-variegated, except a few, which blow white.

Mossed the white cucumber-bed.

Distant thunder.  The storm arose in the S. & parted; so that we had only the skirts.  When thunder arises in the S. we hardly ever receive the storm over us, because the clouds part to the right, & left before they reach us, influenced, I suppose, bu the hills that lie to that quarter.  The walnut-trees throw-out shoots two or three feet below the extremities of the boughs; all above is dead.

The Flycatchers, five in number, leave their nest in the vine over the parlor-window.  Hemerocallis, day-lily, blows.  Chaffers fall dead from the hedges; they have served their generation, & will be seen but little longer.

Annuals die thro’ heat. Hops run their poles. Mr Powlett of Rotherfield has no water for his cattle in the park, but what he fetched from Alton! He has a well for the house. Many years ago Mr Powletts’s grandfather fetched water from Alton for all his cattle, deer & all, for three months together. My well is low; but affords plenty of fine clear water. We draw great quantities for the garden. A constant spring runs through it.