Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, Vol. 32, March 16, 1919

It had rained all night & all day —  I went out over the loose spongy earth — the rain increased in fury — a flock of blackbirds in a meadow were chattering with a melodious cheerfulness —  I felt how sacredly wonderful the rain was, how it should open up our spirits & make them light; noise streams were hurrying everywhere, the earth was so full that the water came out of the ground like artesian wells — one was not surprised to hear song sparrows, but the meadow lark’s silvery whistle, sounded as if new things created; and the bluebirds color a totally new things —
The Pinehollow had a sad grandeur about its solitude; the stream roaring in the misty depths of its hollow was felt; a peterbird sang after dusk, the fearful gloom of woods grabbed at the road; a bird call came from the… hill, like the rapid tapping on a hollow skull — The resounding crash of the waterfall at Teegarden was left behind now.

Charles E. Burchfield, March 16, 1919