polygalas were carpeting the ground in open spaces; pale anemones and
delicate star-flowers were still blooming under the protection of small
pines; wild strawberries were blossoming in cold places; and I wondered
when they would fruit.

Finally I came to an open field, or what looked like land that had been
cultivated. Hosts of bluets and plots of mouse-ear everlasting, had
taken possession of the land. Small pines were scattered here and there,
like settlers in a new country. Junipers were creeping stealthily in, as
if expecting the axe. There were traces of where a fence had run along.
I concluded that this was years ago a field, but now the cows roamed
over it at will.

Going around in the edge of the woods I came to four pines growing from
one root; two grew on each side close together, and left a fine seat
between the pairs. I sat down there, and felt thankful that I was
living, and that my abiding-place was among the granite hills of New
England.

Soon I saw something move a few rods beyond me in the woods. I looked
again and saw the finest woodchuck I ever saw. He stood in a listening
attitude. I suppose he had heard me, but had not seen me. His fur was
yellow and brown mixed; his nose and feet were black; his countenance
was expressive of lively concern. He disappeared and I left my sylvan
seat, and walked up where the woodchuck had been standing. I found his
home and numerous little tracks around the door. I hastened off, because
I feared my presence would worry him.

I knew it must be near noontime, so I began to retrace my way. I walked
up through the pasture and passed the "Great Ledge." This ledge was on