To Teegarden Teritory
The first hollow – warm white sunlight, sparkling stream.
Woodcock whirrs away from little mound, the leaves fluttering in wild confusion after he has disappeared
Hot hillside - noon in Miserable Teegarden.
P.M. The great Pinehollow; here it was chilly - ice in crevices – green moss-matted logs –
The old North feeling here that grows dimmer with every year.
Charles E. Burchfield, March 31, 1918