Everywhere that I have been in the Old
Dominion, (the subtle mockery of that title now!) such thoughts
have fill'd me. The soil is yet far above the average of any of the
northern States. And how full of breadth the scenery, everywhere
distant mountains, everywhere convenient rivers. Even yet prodigal in
forest woods, and surely eligible for all the fruits, orchards, and
flowers. The skies and atmosphere most luscious, as I feel certain,
from more than a year's residence in the State, and movements hither
and yon. I should say very healthy, as a general thing. Then a rich
and elastic quality, by night and by day. The sun rejoices in his
strength, dazzling and burning, and yet, to me, never unpleasantly
weakening. It is not the panting tropical heat, but invigorates. The
north tempers it. The nights are often unsurpassable. Last evening
(Feb. 8,) I saw the first of the new moon, the outlined old moon clear
along with it; the sky and air so clear, such transparent hues of
color, it seem'd to me I had never really seen the new moon before. It
was the thinnest cut crescent possible. It hung delicate just above
the sulky shadow of the Blue mountains. Ah, if it might prove an omen
and good prophecy for this unhappy State.
SUMMER OF 1864
I am back again in Washington, on my regular daily and nightly rounds.
Of course there are many specialties. Dotting a ward here and there
are always cases of poor fellows, long-suffering under obstinate
wounds, or weak and dishearten'd from typhoid fever, or the like;
mark'd cases, needing special and sympathetic nourishment.
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