Last night about 10:30 – I got up & went out the marigold bed, hoping to catch the night worms that have been defoliating them – Caught four more – / When I got back in bed, I heard the first tree-crickets.
And so do my impressions of childhood evade me. Of late there have been rare instances when childhood impressions would flash across my mind—it is not that I wish to go back, or mourn for the past. I only wish I might look at nature new as I did then, with a mind steeped in fairy tales and illusions.
Beautiful colors in a fire Rich blue + violet in glowing embers.
Got out the “Bearded Hills” (1931) – and studied it –
Wind still continues from N.E. The wind that suggested icy fields & scenes is being tempered now by sweeping of hot dry wheat stubble field...
*Stopped at the Great Elm – one of the ladies busy in the yard – we talked about the tree; I promised to give them a photograph of my painting of it –
These clouds are fine types of windy day clouds.... The sky is an intense chalky blue, and the sun, itself dazzlingly bright, is intensified by the lividly white edge of the clouds
"Trip to “The Gowanda Country"...A day that was beautiful in every detail from first to last, and one in which I felt the wonder of nature as if it were newly created (as indeed it is perennially) and yet somehow I cannot put it down on paper. I feel lacking.
Nature herself will not admit of a partial love—you must give yourself to her entirely and when you do so, you will find that Nature will more than meet you halfway.
I am worried about my attire. Although it is now about two or three thirty a.m. there are many people abroad, mostly young people. College students I thought.