The other day my Ekman book on Sibelius came. I find it interesting in many ways....I find a few parallels in our careers....he saw tones in terms of colors.
Today something drew me to the southeast. Yesterday in the fierce wind, the telegraph wires fairly shrieked, and sounded like when we rub our finger tips on tumblers.
A day of poetical skies. White sun and weird streaks. The sunlight comes and goes. The air seems very white. The sky is intense in whatever direction we look, and blurs objects in front of it...
West green beyond Jennings– Old Northwest Sunday afternoon mood – the tall dead tree; loose cloudy sky-high N.W. wind –
They turned out to be the kind of workers we dream about but never see: for later on, when I came out he said one of his men had noticed one of my rear tires was flat – (one of the snow-tires I just had put on) – Did I want them to change it?
Monday night the Whitney Museum opened. Difficult to see pictures. I was again disappointed in my own (Budding Poplar Branches) – The frame seems to crush it.
Mid-morning showed a wonderful phenomenon of sunlight.
Dense fog – void but a short distance away. The sun a drab orange spot, then disappears. A blue jay imitates a hawk cry – I see one in a tree, at my approach he flies away...
"...Can this be November? A deep blue sky - and great big yellow clouds drenched with the thin sparkling sunlight..."
Cool – rain + wind from the east – a profusion of yellow poplar and maple leaves filling the air and covering the lawns. Most of the morning on the “Moonrise in the Woods” –