The last three days on the Elevators picture - It has become a prison at last, from which I seek in vain to escape. I thought today I had come to the end, but at late afternoon, the foreground suddenly reveals itself as out of harmony with the rest— it will require another day’s work. As I near the end, much as I long to be quit of it (albeit only with honor) it is not without sadness and regret – it is the end of a long-drawn out dream; and the whistle of a tug in the distant harbor brings a pang: - the season has advanced, true summer is upon us, the lush green meadows of May are but a memory, and my dream too, will soon be but a memory.
A splendid & terrific downpour of rain at early morning – later wind comes overturns the white sides of trees – clouds move in layers – Cool wind – Clear night –
I cannot tell which is worse, to see a couple making love, or quarreling.
Awakened by a mighty white cloudburst that streaked the morning trees – following by bright sunlight, leaf-clatterings, oriole songs, robin warbles, wrens –
A.M. Record (Overture to Samson by Handel) in the mail. A grand powerful expression.
A.M. to Bottoms country sketching – Misty morning — A stray wind clatter rain drops from warm wet trees —towards noon sky clears hazily, hot sun beats down throwing circular shadows under trees; booming thunderclouds Storm spitting & rumbling to N.W. while all here is sunlit & death by calm. In meadow — storm to N. & one to South — Grey clouds finally cover all.
Blinding white tops of clouds in morning – cold wind –
Unusually hot sultry June days of clear blue skies. The heat of night worst just at first light. It seems I have never noticed how beautiful nature is at present.