Charles Burchfield, Journals, March 2, 1920

Bloodroot Hollow; While in town freakish hideous houses rear up in queer attitudes; A screaming freight-whistle opens up the far stretching hills to the south; a hoarse passenger train whistle comes out of the west – The North glowers from the depths of black pine-hollows & in the east is the cold silly-white moon. Smell of green sapling bark comes on the wind out of the south The dappled moonlit sky recalls muddy pussy willows, swirling streams, and muddy days with wild hair running with dogs thru the dry swamp grass – All the old discussion of childhood adolescence & youth are born again to emerge with manhood – The longing for idyllic love is abound – The earth and sky has that haunting unknown sadness; I came home from sketching by moonlight – Up high, long & white – The big bulky black houses on both sides; the train whistle – the sharp particles of ice nearly frozen crackle under my feet like firecrackers –
Charles Burchfield, March 2, 1920