came upon bridle path in the midst of a bourgeouis settlement.  Disgusted I retreat, and thru village northwards hoping for a clew.  Now I pass the house I was after; my memory had failed me – It was an interesting one, but the lighting effect not what I wished for.  A low wood to the west attracts my eye – I make for it by way of road – walking along in the deadeningnoon heat – the ghostly whiteness of the world is weird – rich blue smoke here and there –
     Enter woods – skunk cabbage – snapping turtle which I tease awhile – lunch on a little flat knoll – explore woods southwards – find great quantities of hepaticas – mostly pale pink and white, very beautiful, wide open to the sun and in their fullest freshest stage of blooming – the sense of full-blooded spring growing here so powerful that I feel I must make a sketch at all costs – The powerful noon sun beating down thru theslender black trees at whose feet glowed the white hepaticas, -the air filled with the hum of countless bees – the sketch a failure also – discouraged and tired I decide  to get a bus for home.  Look a moment out over fields to the north – beautiful heat-waves over the meadows – a white fence far away is like a white ribbon waving in the wind.  Why can I not put this down on paper, I ask myself –
     To Buffalo Road and walk northwards awhile, growing hotter and more tired with each step – Come to a high grassy bank by the side of the road – decide to rest awhile – Dropping my stuff I give myself over to complete lassitude – Soon I become interested in some fantastic snow banks on a distant bank of a creek.  I decide to make one last attempt to redeem the day.  Soon hard at work, realizing that at last I was getting something – two rough looking boys watch me awhile – then later (fortunately when I was almost thru ) three girls of from 7 to 10 years, one of whom tried in all ways to annoy me – She succeeded very well, tho I “kidded” them to conceal my  invitation which of course pleased them –
     Finished I pack up with about twenty minutes to spare before bus-time, and walk north in the quiet level sunshine, tired, but satisfied that I had something concrete with me –
     Herbein planted the fruit trees today – I went out to see them rejoicing in the trim appearance – there is something sacred about a young sapling.