Sunday February 18, 1912
     Last night I firmly resolved that in all respect to my cough and cold, I should not go for a walk today.  Nature has ways of breaking all resolutions, however, good or bad.  This morning when I awoke and looked out, the struggle began.  Ground and roofs were coated white with hoarfrost.  If frost was so thick in town, what would it be out in the “Bottoms”, where it is so moist?  It took me quite a while to decide to break my resolution, but once I was decided to go, I began to look forward to my walk with more than ordinary eagerness.
     After eating a hasty breakfast, I started out.  The sun was well up in the sky by this time, but such a dense mist obstructed his view, that his heat as yet had no effect on the frost, which covered the ground everywhere, while trees were bare of it.  Frost is odd; the morning was warm almost – in fact I needed no gloves; and yet everything had the appearance of a bitterly cold morning.  I took the usual way – following the lane leading straight east from the end of Hawley Ave, to Brooks Alfalfa field.  The alfalfa, one of our