I hoped to find some shelter to paint. Underneath the bridge, between two stone supports I built a fire and ate my lunch composed of pork and egg salad sandwiches, celery, a fruit sandwich, doughnuts and an orange.  It tasted as fine as anything I have eaten for a long time.  I was at a bend in the creek – on one side of me, above the noisy brook (which only broke thru the ice in the center) a huge raw bank reared itself, crowned at the top with black pines and with its sides hung with huge masses of icicles. I had a lot of pleasure in hauling and breaking wood for the fire.
     The lunch gone and the bridge affording no protection, I decided to go back to town and take an earlier train. On the way back I could not get over the unreality of the day, how remote everything seemed. At the station I watched some locomotives switching back and forth –