A clear brisk day — worked all afternoon on the view from B’s bedroom, and brought it along pretty well to completion —
Saw my first robin in the morning —
At noon I sit on the back porch in the hot sunlight—the ground ticks with the sticky dripping sound of the melting frost—
At the One-Arm—the hurried endless coming & going of the “lunchers”—
To the “Big Woods” – Cooler, partially cloudy when I started – so wonderfully good to be out again...
"Silver Haze at Dawn..."
Among the birds that came to the feeder, all winter, was one robin. I was fortunate enough to see him feeding – Altho I knew he had never gone south, the sight of him meant spring.
It had rained all night & all day — I went out over the loose spongy earth — the rain increased in fury — a flock of blackbirds in a meadow were chattering with a melodious cheerfulness — I felt how sacredly wonderful the rain was, how it should open up our spirits & make them light...
A disturbing incident: Huge canvases (submitted) by Kline whose “art” consists of swiping a six inch brush dipped in black paint across a white canvas.
A.M. puttering to the studio, arranging my notes for the oil I am working on into some sort of order.
Playing with the youngsters – the most elementary “tricks” of mine send them into gales of laughter.