September 10, 1967
Maddison and I went for the new house, which was remotely built in the Burkshire country. On our arrival, the two decked house, roughly of brick and robust wood, laid standing by the road, which was always void of comers, serrounded by a wooded region, with a miraculous view from the back, where from a window, I could witness the beauty of the forest land and the gray mountain ranges ahead of that, below the oblivion of the cold, blue sky.
We crowded the house, at every room, except one apperantly, with all that we brought of the furnishings and silverware and plates. Maddison went off dandily with herself to busy about the dinner table, though quite larger now since only me and my sibling occupied it.
I stored the shelves of books and texts around the bottom floor, and gently placed Maddison's flower gatherings at the deck, where the cold was mile. ''This house is pretty.'', she asserted. ''Yep, and I'll hope the wind would get warmer by tomorrow, or the fields will be coating in the frost.'', I reminded her.
After I had finished my set of the breakfast, I ventured upstairs, into those new rooms, which were three as I counted. I saw the one that was lifeless, yet in the light of the old window, and empty and alive with dust in the air. The house, fairly kept and preserved, was silent for the remainder of the time there. I walked over to the yard outside, at the time when Maddison was keeping busy her plantlife, and when the wind was breezing silently, and saw the field of green, across the dead road, swaying almost in unity, amassed in one movement of the landscape airs. ''This house will be beautiful, and the grass is as alive as the sky.'', I said.
I was quickly in the peace of the Burkshire country scent, and regarded, even though no other resident was present within a mile or so, the air was fresh and moist in the morning dew of the cold. ''No site of a problem that I can see.'', I said as I sighted the Burkshire prairie fields.