Sunday Mar 5, 1911
     Well, Bill and I took our walk this morning, but say it was cold!  I hadn’t got to Bill’s yet before my ears and cheeks were tingling with the cold.
     Everything was still and quiet, the grass and sidewalks had a little frost on. In the east the sky was getting yellow and orange and overhead was the vast blue - everything was very clear and cold. Bill was waiting for me, and as we went on out High St. I told him about last night.  Now the east was getting wore yellow and orange; to the west, the pale blue faded into a rosy lavender, which melted into a misty grey. Past the icy and frost-covered Frog pond went, over the frosty grass and into the pasture field. Now a large orange spot was glowing in the east, but as we tramped on, holding our hands to our freezing ears, it became yellow, and as we were tramping over the grey white slope to the left of Bentley’s woods, the sun appeared, a bright ball, which gilded the trees and made us more cheerful.
     On we walked, past Bentley’s to some meadows on the north side; here we could see dense mists arising from the Dutchman’s valley far to the east.  Soon we came to the painter