I have never observed so many colors in lightning as tonight. The general color was pink. At times some bolts took on a yellow tinge.
What a boon companion the wind becomes to us. A walk on a windy day can never be a lonely one. No cross-country tramp is ever a lonely one for that matter but on a quiet warm day...
..."As sun nears... ragged blue clouds disappear... The sun appears as a bright soft glow...and the light from it spreads farther and seeks unheard of places out and brightens them..."
After the noon-day meal – to the studio. Struggling with the two cartoons for “The Bearded Hills of August” and “Heat Lightning”. Working first on the latter – I made a distinct advance on this idea -
Work most of the day on the Bob-White picture – I made some progress, more in indicating what [its] potentialities are, rather than carrying them out. The season is probably too late for it —my mind leaps ahead to mid-summer ideas.
I took a walk after sunset tonight along country roads—The pale yellow & blue green afterglow lasted long—Schubert's Unfinished Symphonie [sic] went thru my mind—
Evening – the dragon-fly sunning itself on the lattice (the kind with chalk-white body and black wings with white polka-dots).
To Country between Hinsdale & and Cuba (Rt. 408) painting. I was in search of a stream of the same character as the “Dutchman’s” or the Little Beaver Creek in Ohio...
Smoke hangs low and sways gently here and there catching on trees, buildings & places and lingering, making for them a beautiful outline.
This afternoon, searching for a book to read to divert my mind so as to see the painting problems I was involved in, more detachedly, I chanced upon Yeats, Dramatic Poems, vol. 2 –