Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, Volume 61a, April 15 and 16, 1963

April 15 – Monday –

Sunny – with the same new air – current from the North –

A.M. pencil studies of the hepaticas which are in their prime – that is to say in all stages of bloom from buds to wide-open – is it possible ever to express the joy of studying these fragile Heavenly flowers?

…The hepaticas are still beautiful – so innocently beautiful – altho a few have lost their petals which are like bits of rare silk on the gray-brown leaves – leaving behind the reddish-green sepal triangles, with the emerald seed-clusters in the centers.

There is one plant in particular which has but three flowers – but what flowers! – large, and with twice the usual number of petals, and a glowing pink in color – These are all classed as the same variety of hepaticas, all having leaves with pointed lobes, but what individualism there is – some have only five petals, which are long and slender, others have (uniformly) six, which are shorter and more fully rounded – and then variations between these and the pink variety mentioned above –

Hepaticas! Hepaticas! What a magical name! What memories are evoked – surely the walk (or path through a ravine wood) leading up to the gates of Paradise must be perpetually lined with these fragile flowers of spring.

Hepaticas of my childhood, growing on the south-facing bank at the end of Bentley’s Woods where the southern sun stirred them to life – the first, always, of the season –

Hepatica Hollow (on the Belcher Road N.W. of Springville) – I never will forget the first time I saw this enchanting little ravine at the height of the blooming season – as I wandered up the hollow with its singing brook, each turn revealed one colony after another, so that they seemed to go on into Infinity – (and then when the owner cut out many trees, how sad it was to see the disorder, and to note that the havoc wrought so diminished their numbers.)

Hepatica Hill (South of West Valley on the old 219 route) – infinite in number, seeming to extend up and up a hill too steep for us ever to climb –

And then the hepaticas of my late-winter-dreams – growing inside deep caves with great masses of icicles hanging from roofs; or in front of jet black “hollows”; or beside burnt sienna rotting chestnut stumps –

Charles E. Burchfield, Volume 61a, April 15 and 16, 1963