At work all day on the wheat field picture, putting in the new distance.
Reading at times the "Story of Sibelius" by Elliott Arnold again. And in the late evening news of imminent declaration of war by our country against Finland. It seems to me this catastrophe could somehow be avoided. It is terribly depressing. For many months now there has been no news from Sibelius. One of the greatest men of our century is in his last days, and we are cut off from his country, and any news of him. Probably I will never be able to rid myself of the longing to clasp the hand of this great man. —or of the inevitable regret that it will never have taken place.