Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, February 25, 1915

My awakening out-door look showed a startle of white roofs. All morning, a soggy snow fell melting on the warm earth.

11:00 A.M. Thru (sic) Park to School.  Still it seems like a frozen April Shower - wet glistening earth, & walks, loose ever dis­solving sky, brisk wind from N.W. and a feeling that winter is only at play.  I heard a Robin yipe.  At this season that call is as stirring as his song later on.

In the afternoon the air becomes colder, tree-trunks are plastered white, and the tiny tufts of grass on the lawns are whitened on their wind-sides like the imprint of waves on sand; as if a great white light shown out of the sky.

At night, the change is complete - high wind fine snow that sifts in great white streamers across the wind-cleaned streets. It is winter.

(I have been thinking about god today and wonder if I am such a disbeliever as I thought. To belief or disbelief in God only a state of the mind?)

Charles E. Burchfield, February 25, 1915