News

Repairs going on at our house. Short pieces of clapboards lying about.

Most people see nature only through the eye of a great poet or artist—

Don't let anyone kid you about the title—after all, why not Sea Shells, or Sun Glare or Sun Shimmer or what have you? What's in a name?

make this the first sentence – along some road to the north running east & west, is a lonely farmhouse with a row of young maples in front of it

As we approach the summer solstice our brief taste of tropical weather begins – heavy moist windless heat saturates the earth – the rank meadows reek with hot buttercups –

In bed, —the lightning increases in brilliance, almost continuous—the wind rises, the poplar tree outside my window, a writhing tortured black many fingered mass, with wild lightning curling around it

I sit here by the window of my little attic almost too full of happiness to write about it – …I think of my new son — my first boy – only three weeks old – it seems incredible he is a boy – it is just a baby –

I dreamt quite a lot last night. Most of it is vague, but one thing remains—someone said to me “you ought to go back to those old interpretations of nature moods again"...

...It is a compulsive sort of thing; if I have a pencil in my hand, there may be doodles all over envelopes, magazines, or whatever happens to be at hand.

Mother’s desire for flowers to decorate the graves for Memorial Day,took me on a ramble to the woods. But it was not alone for flowers I went – at least they were the smallest part of the harvest. . .