Tuesday, February fourth.
It has been so changeable to-day that we are still uncertain of Olson’s intentions. We snowshoed down the beach in the beautiful, soft, new snow so at least to have a look toward Seward. There lay the bay calm and beautiful—and spotless. The scale of things is so tremendous here that I’ve little idea how far we shall be able to see the little, bobbing boat when it does come.
We sawed a lot of wood to-day bringing our pile clear up into the gable peak. It becomes a mania seeing the pile grow. In quiet weather we cut to forestall the storm; in the storm we still cut to be well ahead for days that may be worse. It is beautifully mild now. On February first Rockwell brought in some budding twigs. The alders all seem to be in bud and some charming, red-stemmed shrubs as well. It is midnight and past. My drawing is finished, the stove is piled for the night, cereal and beans in place upon it, so—Good-night.
ECSTASY