bluebirds, just trying their wings or getting used to them. Young robins peep.
I think I know four kinds of cornel beside the dogwood and bunchberry. One now in bloom, with rather small leaves, which have a smooth, silky feeling beneath, and a greenish gray spotted stem, old stocks all gray (Cornus alternifolia? or sericea?). The broad-leaved cornel in Laurel Glen, yet green in the bud (Cornus circinata?). The small-leaved cornel, with a small cyme or corymb as late as the last (Cornus paniculata), and the red osier by the river (Cornus stolonifera), which I have not seen this year.
June 13, 1853. 9 a. m. To Orchis Swamp.—I find that there are two young hawks. One has left the nest, and is perched on a small maple seven or eight rods distant. It appears much smaller than the former one. I am struck by its large naked head, so vulture-like, and large eyes, as if the vulture s were an inferior stage through which the hawk passed. Its feet, too, are large, remarkably developed, by which it holds to its perch securely, like an old bird, before its wings can perform their office. It has a buff breast, striped with dark brown. P, when I told him of this nest, said he would like to carry one of his rifles down there. But I told him that I should be sorry to have
