March 14, 1917
In the morning, I walked with Florence to the street car. She’s going back to Whitby so we said our goodbyes. She said she would try to visit me later in the spring when I am up north.
This afternoon I continued to work on my canvas. I may be able to get another one done before I leave, but I’m not banking on it. The afternoon sun is becoming stronger by the day. It’s not yet the Equinox; spring is arriving and winter is waning.
Tom Thomson's Last Spring 