A peculiar morning: The earth was whitened with a film of snow, as if a great white light shown on it; while a dense fog, crowded down on all sides creating in the trees wonderful graduations, one behind the other. That a strong wind should whistle out of the fog surprised but delighted me. It cleared the air.
At noon a walk in Lakeview Cemetery. An East wind coming out of the mist grey sky, sending thru the trees a series of ice-clickings, reminded me of February. The sight of the beautiful bare trees against the sky holds a beauty we never have in summer. The air was fresh but not cold, as if only reminiscent of ice.
Charles E. Burchfield, January 12, 1915