The Natural History of Selborne

The Poet of Nature lets few rural incidents escape him. In his Summer he mentions the whetting of a scythe as a pleasing circumstance, not from the real sound, which is harsh, grating, & unmusical; but from the train of summer ideas which it raises in the imagination. No one who loves his garden & lawn but rejoices to hear the sound of the mower on an early, dewy morning.–

“Echo no more returns the chearful sound
Of sharpening scythe.”

Milton also, as a pleasing summer-morning occurrence, says,

…”the mower whets his scythe.”

— L’Allegro

Farmer Hoare’s son shot a hen Wood-chat (Lanius s. senator) or small Butcher-bird as it was washing at Well-head, attended by the cock.  It is a rare bird in these parts.  In it’s craw were insects.

Mr Eveleigh says, that the churring of a fern-owl is like the noise of a razor-grinder’s wheel.

The Provost of Oriel, & lady came.

There is a natural occurance to be met with upon the highest part of our down on hot summer days, which always amuses me much, without giving me any satisfaction with respect to the cause of it; & that is a loud audible humming of bees in the air, tho’ not one insect is to be seen. This sound is to be heard distinctly the whole common through, from the Money-dells, to Mr White’s avenue-gate. Any person would suppose that a large swarm of bees was in motion, & playing about over his head. This noise was heard last week on June 28th.

“Resounds the lving surface of the ground,
Nor undelightful is the ceasless hum
To him who muses… at noon.”
“Thick in yon stream of light a thousand was,
Upward, and downward, thwarting, & convolv’d,
The quivering nations sport.”

Thomson’s Seasons

The Saint foin about the neighbourhood lies in a bad way.

Straw-berries from the woods are brought; but they are crude, & pale, as might be expected.  Cut-off the large leaves of the Colchicum, or meadow-saffron, now decaying: towards the end of August the blossoms, called by some naked boys, will shoot out, & make a pleasing appearance.

Glow-worms abound on Baker’s hill.

The late pliant sort of Honeysuckles, that do not make good standards, begin to show their yellow bloom: the more early are on the decline. Hung the net over the cherry-trees at the end of the house to keep off the magpies, which come to our very windows at three & four in the morning. The daws also from the church have invaded my neighbours cherries. Pies, & daws are very impudent!

Timothy Turner sowed 40 bushels of ashes on Baker’s hill: an unusual season for such manure!  Tryed for rats over the stable, & brewhouse with a ferret, but did not succeed.