Percival Lowell
In taking out a large flat stone that used to limit the hollyhocks before their field of operations was enlarged, I discovered this morning where tarantulas go for the unaccounted-for ten months of the year. As I took it out, there, underneath, was a smallish specimen of the tribe, perhaps three-quarters the size of the usual September individual. So they hibernate during the greater part of the year.
Today is the first decent day we have had. The wind up to now has been horrible, and colds prevalent through the community. I myself have at last succumbed. I seem now to be better.
The sweet peas planted in their usual place, are now just peeping above ground; while the vegetables:—radishes, lettuce and beets have been, ever since I came, making sparse attempt at aboveground growing. I am sitting in the library, the new room overlooking the valley, gazing upon blue sky and green forest.
So far we have found nothing except an asteroid or two and one interesting variable of which I am having prints made. I wish the planet were not so coy.
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