silt around the car. The sky was over-cast, rain commencing to fall, low in the southeast an opening in the clouds revealed a yellow lit sky. All at once the light vanished, as an electric light is turned off, and lightning began to flash.
                                                                      April 29, 1938 (Friday)
     AM. To elevators.
     Storm in the night brings much cooler weather.
     It is a “lowering” day - cold heavy overcast sky with cold misty rain at time (sic). The elevators are fine and dark against the sky - it suddenly seems much earlier in the season. The raw wind makes the harbor unfriendly - I do not mind it for certain things, but for my picture a soft warm rainy spring day is better.
Over the Michigan St bridge & out the Lake road to find a boat for my picture. Coming in Elk St, the bridge was up to allow a large freighter, pulled by a tug to pass thru. I got out of the car, and walked up to the bridge to watch. There was an effect on the water here that was as fine as I have ever seen it. The canal here is black with oil; the strong wind on the water’s surface was revealed in ragged sheets of fine ripples, of the color of monel metal; the untouched water at the edge, reflecting the gaunt elevators was a blackish green; with the cold gray sky, the effect was thrilling, and had a feeling of far north country, a grimness that was startling.
While I was standing here a dirty ill-kempt fellow came up and asked me for a cigarette. His manner was insolent and overbearing in the extreme; and when I told him I had none, after a moment’s pause he repeated “no cigarettes, eh?”