Saturday, Arthur & I went alone to my “Trillium Woods” south-east of Hamburg. It was truly a “red-letter” day for me, and I hope for him.
A colony of hepaticas near the road—The aroma of sun-baked leaves was heavenly—I said to Bertha I never would want to miss seeing the hepaticas in the woods every Spring, even if I had to be carried there by somebody else—
Louise brought “makings” of high-balls, which revived our weary spirits.
The sunny weather continues – but with a strong, cool wind – wonderful weather for walking but difficult for painting...
A very warm muggy day – A day of interruption over a number of trifling but necessary details relating to the exhibitions –
... a resounding train whistle like a stagnant August drought morning with its dk BV west sky...
... in the wild-flower garden putting special soil around the hepaticas, - the odor of the earth – a fine occupation – from all sides come the songs and calls of the many birds of our neighborhood...
Maples, birches, Cottonwoods in speckled bloom; flowers up; hot white wind from southwest — followed, after a haze moonrise by a terrific thunderstorm
I would see our western N.Y. landscape, not in terms of modern life...but rather in terms of eternal verities of the primeval earth..which can never be erased if only we look beneath the surface.
Homewards – Singing of telegraph; luminous horizon – light spot in sky -; I imagined I had gone out in the summer sketching, + stayed out all night to see themorning, I saw the sun rise over a valley, before me a splashing waterfall – The town throws a light on the sky, which lights up the dusty road –