Thurs. Apr. 28, 1932–
      A brisk March-like day –
     A.M. all of us to school to see Marionnettes –
     “Jack and the Beanstalk” – very good.  At times when the children laughed so heartily, tears came to my eyes.  Between the acts, a man came forth and pointed out to the children great moral lessons about “the game of life” to be derived from the fairy story, which annoyed the children and myself no less.   The practice of converting fairy tales into lessons in conduct is a despicable one.  However children are thick skinned, and these banal interludes only whetted their appetite the more for the real business.
     P.M. to Skunk-cabbage-swamp painting.  Sketch of swamp from eastern side, perched on a cultivated slope the wind so strong I had difficulty in anchoring my easel; and it blew in such gust around my paper that it was heard to make a firm steady stroke.  This painting gave me little spiritual pleasure in the making, but the cold wind and the bright sunlight made the process a physical stimulation.
     Finished, in the late afternoon sunlight, strike out north to explore, with the idea of striking Clinton St.a farmer plowing to the east.  Down lane to woods which turned out to be a beautiful thing.  The woods is being thinned out for cord-wood, and had that peculiar half park-like and half-wild openness that lends such dignity to a forest – The ground carpeted with hepaticas and dogtooth violets – Wander slowly thru with increasing delight and content – my way dips down into a shallow ravine-like depression and thence up into an even grander woods – the trees taller – This place had a distinct spirit about it – a “genius loci”, that has left a definite impression on me – the late sunshine streaming thru it lit up the edges of tree-trunks, and the leaves of countless dog-tooth violets – I was loth to leave the place.  I found myself whistling parts of “Sibelius” Swan of Tuonela, music that seemed to belong here – the western edge of the