A day of heavy rains – in studio all day, working on “hollow” picture –
Snow started early evening - everything covered this morning - like the middle of winter, but at midmorning the gay song of a songsparrow.
A honey bee sunning itself on a frame. What a dainty creature, and how beautiful the first winged insect!
First wakening – blinding fast quarter moon in a black sky; next the red horizon fading upwards; and lastly the white sun flooding the frost-coated earth...
Reflecting on the impermanence of my art, I envied that of the composers, or writers, whose art never can deteriorate but is always good as long as the human race servives.on the impermanence of my art.
This overflowing song calls to mind old movies, cat-tails swamps, dark ravines with their ice-caves and snow remnants; meadows at morning and at evening –
A mild breezy morning, with wispy clouds, and a sprinkle of rain. A song sparrow sings from somewhere.
To see a sapling, in front of the dark side of a house, it[s] branches, sunlit, gleaming white, & then to see it suddenly against the sky a black claw—A fairy, building a house of the wings of a moth, might use the transparent spots in the wings as windows. What would flowers look like seen through them?
Reading in “Wind in the Willows”—Thoughts of last twilight in a woods, an hepatica or spring beauty in front of the black yawning cavern of a hollow tree —The last nostalgic gleam of the fading daylight behind a wooded hill, at whose base is a little village in deep gloom —
A cherry Tree with a silver streak down center of Trunk –