I stop and listen to hear it again, but cannot tell whether it comes from the buttonwoods high over my head or from the lower trees on the hilltop. It is not the complete bluebird warble, but the twitter only. And now it seems to come from Pratt's house, where the window is open, and I am not sure but it is a caged bird. I walk that way, and now think that I distinguish the minstrel in a black speck in the top of a great elm on the Common. When I get to the elm near Minott's I hear one warble distinctly.
Mother hears a robin to-day.
Buttonwood sap flows fast from wounds made last fall. Air full of bluebirds as yesterday. The sidewalk is bare and almost dry the whole distance under the hill. Turn in at the gate this side of Moore's and sit on the yellow stones rolled down in the bay of a digging, and examine the radical leaves, etc., etc.