Bus ride – the early morning people going to work inBuffalo– few people on the street –
     Train ride – the country is unusually beautiful this year – the rain has kept the trees and shrub freshly green which stands out in contrast to those things which naturally ripen and turn yellow such as oats and wheat, which stand in the shock – This year there seems to be more buckwheat which in full bloom looks like brilliant snow –
     Midaugust in the country is green and all tones of sienna and straw –yellow
     Cherry Creek –
     The village fills me full of inexpressible joy – up until Gowanda and past it is still New York State Country but here suddenly I find myself in true Midwest southern atmosphere –
     A scattered town lying sleepily in a wide sunlit valley – drowsing on the hot haze of mid-morning August sunlight – cicadas drone from huge cobwebby maples and locust that half-conceal the old frame houses – various people greet me as an old friend (do they remember me perhaps or is it just their way with all strangers!)
     A wide cement highway thru the center of the town (new to me) has failed to make any impression – perhaps the town is incorruptible – at any rate – a picturesque blacksmith shop with a gaunt false front has been repaired with new clapboards over its whole front and they took pains to preserve it as it was!
     The clapboard are unpainted and look fine with the weather beaten window panes and corniced top –
     Side street leading out of the village – the sidewalk merges gradually into grass and the street likewise into a dusty country road –
     Dusty country road! With the hot sun turning it a livid ochreish white – the plants along the side coated
     First turn left – this road narrower and less used – Old forgotten memories pour in on me like an avalanche – my joy is great – flock of white butterflies clustered around damp place in the road – a cricket chirping from someplace – cicadas singing – the sunlight pouring down out of the vast hazy southeast, over a cobwebby wooded hillside –
     A soggy bank along the road wet by an oozing spring – touch-me-not and other plants wet with dew yet -