This is Sigurd's earliest discovered journal entry. He had found an abandoned cabin on Grassy Lake, not far from town, and had begun regularly traveling out to it and spending the evening or night. In this handwritten entry (as usual, on looseleaf paper) he discusses happiness, writing, and thoughts of getting his master's degree in zoology. In the fall of 1931, he would give in to that goal, and take his family down to Champaign, Illinois, where he would earn his master's degree in zoology. His major professor would be the nation's leading animal ecologist, Victor Shelford, and Sigurd's thesis would be the first scientific study of the timber wolf. And, as this entry suggests, he would hate almost every minute of it.

A beautiful morning after a fresh snowfall. Made it out here in less than an hour and good going.

Coming out I realized as I have many times that the greatest happiness for me is my enjoyment of nature. No matter how much money I accumulate and under what conditions I live there is and always will be one prime source of contentment and that is in the observation of and exhilarating enjoyment of the woods. I think I can be very happy if I get into my writing stride again — My needs are few. If happiness is everyday life if we make our heaven here on earth then I must really be reaping [can't make out word] bit of heaven right now — Sometimes I think my range must be small because it takes so little to satisfy but after all is not the realization of one's wants happiness enough. Above all things I desire happiness. I have a wife who I love more than any one else in the world & two boys both as fine as nature can make them. I have the woods and close contact with the nature I love — Altho I do not or imagine I do not care for my work think of the advantage I have over others who have only a short time of the year to enjoy themselves. When I think of the life I would lead if I became ambitious & became [can't make out word] to a new job I am sometimes stunned. True happiness comes only to those who realize what they want and attain it. My philosophy makes me content. Research which I should be pursuing were I to attain the goal as a zoologist holds terrors for me. I would much rather dream & write vaguely than force myself down to the cut & dried realism of classification and analysis. I should forget my ambitions & oursue to the exclusion of all else the one goal I think will bring happiness, writing. The very thought of writing, makes me happy and I am never so happy as when I am putting down my thoughts. Failure to do so gives me always a sense of futility a sense of loss and wasted time. Creation individual creation & thoughts be they only dream castles to me is worth more than putting out weighty tomes of scientific lore. How many scientists are cold analysts how many of them in their zeal for ambitious work lose sight of the wonder of creation. How often do they fail to see the [can't make out word] underlying principle of existence. How often do they fail to see the beauty through their microscopic and statistical intelligences. To me beauty is all, to me it is far more worth while to feel the glory of a sunny morning on the snow than it is to obtain a new specimen, a specimen that hitherto had missed the Lynnaean system — That to me is mere book keeping —

What shall I write —Write what you know best of, what you have most feeling [can't make out word]. That to me of course is the woods, nature animal and wild life — That I know best & should I pin myself down to articles & stories of nature until I have become recognized I then touch the human element but not before. By writing sincerely about what is closest to my heart I will eventually obtain the goal. Write beautifully, simply and not for money, for the love that you [can't make out end of sentence].

It is cold, my hands are cold and my mind is becoming frigid. I must soon leave again for town — A glorious run over the snows and then it is over. Putting down my scattered thoughts this morning has been a relief and a queer pleasure.