pouring around me from behind, I felt I could not look enough –
     The cawing of the crows has a sinister sound to it, boding gray bleak days of November.
     B. had said perhaps she would take the children to Casenovia Park, so when my car approached it on my return to Buffalo, I looked out in hopes I could see them – True enough I saw M.A. and Sally running toward the car – I scurry off the car, much to their delight – a pleasant hour in the ordered peaceful beauty of the park –
     How good it is to come back to one’s self – I had wandered to Utica, New York, Pittsburg, Salem, Cleveland perhaps in search of something – for a time after I return the realization of my utter loneliness, and its uncompromising necessity swept over me almost crushing me with despair – That is gone now and I sit surrounded by all the ideas I love, freed by the realization that crowds and companionship are not for me.
     I bought Borodin’s 2^nd Symphony this week.  The grim stark power of this music fills me with joy; as I listen to it the vast lonely stretches of our own Middle-west come before me, and the realization that I have forsaken my heritage comes over me with crushing force – all that I have done in recent years seems trivial, almost frivolous.  An aching desire to turn about-face and go back[1]