Monday, February third.
We are in the second month of Olson’s absence. To-day it stormed mostly; heavy snow in the morning. Through the thick of it we heard faintly a steamer whistle. It seemed to be receding, outward bound. At four o’clock while a light snow fell the lightning played merrily and thunder crashed. It is like this: snow for half an hour, then rain—silence and calm for a few minutes. Suddenly huge hailstones pelt the roof, for all the world like rocks. This lasts a few seconds, there’s a fierce gust of wind showering ice and snow from the tree tops down upon us, again calm and silence—and the performance is ready to begin again.