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1801 By Sinead Seadhna Morrissey A beautiful cloudless morning. My toothache better. William at work on The Peddler. Miss Gell left a basket of excellent lettuce; I shelled our scarlet beans. Walked out after dinner for letters- met a man who had once been a Captain begging for alms. The afternoon airy & warm. No letters. Came home via the lake, which was near-turquoise and startled by summer geese. The soles on this year's boots are getting worn. Heard a tiny, wounded yellow bird, sounding its alarm. William as pale as a basin, exhausted with altering. I boiled up pears with cloves. Such visited evenings are sharp with love I almost said, "dear, look." Either moonlight on Grasmere - like herrings! - Or the new moon holding the old moon in its arms.
June 16, 2026 at 5:02 AM