For the first time in weeks I let myself go in inspiration and fantasy.
Recently I was out painting near Springville in mid-July, and all at once it is September – what happened to the time in between? It is lost, forever.
Finally to bed in the evening. Nauseated most of the night. I am a miserable coward about vomiting.
The “Ohio folks” visit. It was pleasant having the here (they stayed overnight at a motel) – and two days they spent in Toronto at the Canadian National Exhibition.
...in Ohio, where I was born, all these directions have a powerful mystical meaning. An August "North" at night-time is overpowering in its awfulness, to mention only one of them.
How a butterfly pursues its shadow across the sunlit ground! This season gathers space – The space under trees is huge – The skies are epic – big feathery like swirls of clouds –
The season advances – All day it is September –
B + I out to the Allen Rd. country - take our lunch along and eat under the big maple at the east end of the road. Tho a warm humid day, it was pleasant under the tree, for a wind, that increased somewhat as the day progresses, rendered the air in the shade delightful.
I found this evening dangling on the end of grass frond, a curled morning glory flower, which in drying had fastened a tiny grey feather to the grass stem. How did this happen?
All the birds of the air have this silveriness of flight from their long association with the ethereal upper air perhaps.