Bertha and I to the Big Woods, by way of Zoar Valley —
A perfect day, almost a cloudless sky — The autumnal color at its height — After a season of so much confusion and frustration, we were like two children on a Saturday ramble — exclaiming and pointing etc.
We ate our lunch in our accustomed place by the big pine where we can sit on a flat bank overlooking the road and the hills beyond. The sun shone warmly; the air mostly still, but at times a gentle breeze from the S.W. — Off to the N.E. in the woods, a blue-jay uttered his metallic autumnal cries of alarm, one of the most exciting sounds of autumn — I associate it with the acrid odor of wild cucumber pods, with their delicate pink & yellow exteriors, contrasting with the brilliant orange seeds inside, visible when the pod cracks open.