July 12, 1777
Ricked the St foin: it lay 12 days washed with continual showers, & yet is not quite spoiled.
Ricked the St foin: it lay 12 days washed with continual showers, & yet is not quite spoiled.
Bees swarm by heaps. 31 swifts appear: so that if near half of them are not strangers the young broods are out.
A swarm of bees has hung-out in a torpid state for many days.
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.
Winter-like: we are obliged to keep fires.
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.
New moon. The vines begin to blow. They blowed in 1774 June 26: in 1775 June 7: & in 1776 June 25.
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.
The pair of martins that began their nest near the stair-case window on June the 21: finished the shell this day.
Boys bring me female wasps, & hornets. Ophrys nidus avis.
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