This week in 1777

6th July

My St. foin lies in a rotting state.

7th July

Winter-like: we are obliged to keep fires. The brood of martins hatched June 11th seem to be flown.

8th July

Dark & cold, rain, rain, rain, gleams of sun, vast clouds. Stopped down the vines. Bees cluster round the mouth of one hive, but cannot swarm. Bees must be starved soon, having no weather fit for gathering honey no sun, or dry days. A swarm of bees, which had waited many days for an opportunity, came-out in a short gleam of sunshine just before an heavy shower, between 9 & 4 in the afternoon, & settled on the balm of Gilead-fir. When an hive was fixed over them they went into it of themselves.

9th July

The young swallows that come out are shivering, & ready to starve.

10th July

A swarm of bees has hung-out in a torpid state for many days. Cuckow cries: white throat whistles. The rainy fit lasted just a month.

11th July

Wheat much in bloom. Young swifts not out yet. Field-crickets crie: Bees swarm by heaps. 31 swifts appear: so that if near half of them are not strangers, the young broods are out.

12th July

White throats sing. Ricked the St foin; it lay 12 days washed with continual showers, & yet is not quite spoiled. Began to cut my meadow-hay; a large crop.