Thursday, October 17, 1963 The Frances Hubbard Diaries

October 17, 1963

Thursday, 75, beautiful hot day, cloudy in the pm.  I did some ironing.  Lavilla went to school with me in the pm to see Mr. Hill about Wayne leaving.  Sue and I went to prayer meeting with Lyles to Leonard's, (Reynolds I believe). Wrote to Marilyn.

Comment: Not sure what's going on with Wayne. He may be leaving school, not sure if he graduated, anyone in the family know? Another gorgeous fall day. I can almost smell the Autumn in the air...here is what Socrates Hubbard wrote about the seasons in those hills:  
 "I was born on the 19th of March 1825 and first opened my eyes to the world on the old Broom Hills, amid the most romantic and sublime seanery in the world. 
The house in which I was born was situated on the side of the mountain neer a mild from its base over looking the Catskill mountains that were spred out in front like an imence panerama.  
The view extended for forty milds towards the east across the Hudson to the mountains in Coneticut blew in the distance.  Imediately in front some three to five milds and possibley seven or eight miles to the top of the oposit mounton lay hundreds of farmes.  
Each farm with its sunny farme house and out buildings, the orchard the little patch of wood land, the ploughed fields and fields of corne potatos rye & medow Buckwheete.  all giving a different coller of green, each field small only containing four to eight acris, gave a most pleasing prospict. 
With the naced eye we could see what all our neighbors were doing for ten milds sround.  See when they commensed to plough, when they planted when they commenced to reepe etc. and we could see cattle and sheap feeding to the very mountain top.  
The variaty in this picture was immence, ever vareying, from the soft unfolding spring to the maturing summer, and ripening autom.  I think no place in the world looked half so beautiful as this when the mountain forists were clothed in the maney coulers of fall. The bright yellow of the hard maple, the fire like scarlet of the soft maple the amber ash, and iron wood.  With all the varing coulers of the oaks the beach and the walnut.

          Winter too had its charmes the old man horey and stern sat a king.  The distant mountain sides glistened in the sun like literal mountains of christle."

Here is a collage of pictures on and from Hubbard Hill showing the many seasons and the incredible views from the house, similar to what Socrates describes.  The bottom right frost scene is a stock photo I found that seems to illustrate Socrates's description of winter above......