March 8, 1937 -
     The undying miracle of snow! I stand on the studio stoop watching and listening to the sleet, that came down with a persistent fine rattling sound. Presently one huge white flake appears, then another, and another, and as they slowly increased, the noise gradually lessened until, as the air became literally choked with great sinking feathery flakes, it subsided into that profound silence that is one of the great mysteries of nature. The whole world was suddenly transformed into a great white rhythm - a ghostly movement that seemed as if it must be accompanied by a terrific clatter; yet the flakes came down so soundlessly, that it seems as if no longer was the earth solid, but some intangible material reaching up to meet the air, to be dissolved in it. Against the sky, the dark grey flakes seemed to reach out to infinity.
     The snowfall was presaged by a dark somber morning. As I went on my usual walk, a feeling of something sinister about to happen was present everywhere. The lowering gray sky, deeper toned in the west beyond the black-eved freight cars; accented here & there by the white puff of some switching engine; the crunching trees;