Posted by sydney on Aug 19th, 1781
Mr Pink’s turnips are infested with black caterpillars; he turned 80 ducks into the field, hoping they would have destroyed them; but they did not seem much to relish this sort of food. I have known whole broods of ducks destroyed by their eating too freely of hairy caterpillars.
Posted by sydney on Aug 18th, 1781
Some wasps at the butcher’s shop.
Posted by sydney on Aug 17th, 1781
The small pond in Newton great farm field, near the verge of the common, is full nearly of good clear water! while ponds in vales are empty. One swift! The crevice thro’ which the swift goes up under the eaves of the church is so narrow as not to admit a person’s hand.
Posted by sydney on Aug 16th, 1781
Sowed a crop of winter-spinage, & pressed the ground close with the garden-roller. The ground turned-up very dry, & harsh.
Posted by sydney on Aug 14th, 1781
The bank-martins at the sand-pit on Short-heath are now busy about their second brood, & have thrown out their egg-shells from their holes. The dams & first-broods make a large flight. When we approached their caverns, they seemed anxious, & uttered a little wailing note. My well is low in water; but a constant spring bubbles up from the bottom. Some neighbouring wells are dry. My well is 63 feet deep.
Posted by sydney on Aug 13th, 1781
The pond on Selborne down has still some good water in it; Newton pond is all mud. Many annuals are shrivelled-up for want of moisture. The drought is very great. Hops are injured for want of rain.
Posted by sydney on Aug 11th, 1781
Ponds & streams fail. People in many parts in great want of water. The reapers were never interrupted by rain one hour the harvest thro’.
Posted by sydney on Aug 9th, 1781
One swift, perhaps a pair, going in & out of the eaves of the church. Why do these linger behind the rest, which have withdrawn some days? have they a backward brood delayed by some accident?
Posted by sydney on Aug 8th, 1781
We have shot 31 black-birds, and saved our gooseberries.
Posted by sydney on Aug 6th, 1781
Every ant-hill is in a strange hurry & confusion; & all the winged ants, agitated by some violent impulse, are leaving their homes; &, bent on emigration, swarm by myriads in the air, to the great emoulment of the hirundines, which fare luxuriously. Those that escape the swallows return no more to their nests, but looking out for new retreats, lay a foundation for future colonies. All the females at these times are pregnant.