I dreamt last night, I was wandering on the top of a strange valley, similar to the Dutchman’s; it was a peculiar season, like Fall, like Spring; a dense blue haze was in the air; the sun was a white blue; directly below it, the opposite bank of the valley was turned to orange and blended on either side to blue haze. All at once a tanager startled the eye by flying in a bush. I held out my hands to him palms up, & to my great joy & surprise, he hopped on them, and when I put him up to my face he rubbed his head against my cheek.
The artist must be lavish in his material; like nature is a profligate spender, yet with continent results.
Charles E. Burchfield, February 27, 1916