_Aug. 4_.--Forenoon--as I sit under the willow shade, (have retreated
down in the country again,) a little bird is leisurely dousing and
flirting himself amid the brook almost within reach of me. He evidently
fears me not--takes me for some concomitant of the neighboring earthy
banks, free bushery and wild weeds. _6 p.m._--The last three days have
been perfect ones for the season, (four nights ago copious rains, with
vehement thunder and lightning.) I write this sitting by the creek
watching my two kingfishers at their sundown sport. The strong,
beautiful, joyous creatures! Their wings glisten in the slanted sunbeams
as they circle and circle around, occasionally dipping and dashing the
water, and making long stretches up and down the creek. Wherever I go
over fields, through lanes, in by-places, blooms the white-flowering
wild-carrot, its delicate pat of snow-flakes crowning its slender stem,
gracefully oscillating in the breeze,