Thursday, January 1:
The bells summon in the New Year; we go for a drive. Family lunch; thoughts of past years: “We have endured difficulties enough for each other’s sake.” Thoughts of R.’s father Geyer and how he loved giving them presents. Thoughts of our undertaking, the silence in which we shall wrap ourselves if, as seems likely, the King does not help us.
At coffee after lunch I see a raven, which settles with outspread wings on the tree before my window and then soon flies away. R. says it is a good sign; the raven was the chief bird of the Germans, and Wolfram was the most exalted name, combining the two sacred creatures, wolf and raven; lion and eagle were traditional emblems. Nevertheless, the sign alarms me.
In the evening R. is seized by a shivering fit; I put him to bed, the doctor comes, and hopes it will lead to nothing worse.