Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, April 3, 1919

To Farquhars—

Sun hazily thru rain-gloom—
About midday the first rain pattering thru the dark woods—
The old mine with its smoking clay hills— the Icecave,-- the old Spring beauty cave—

Peterbird sings and flutters above the spring beauties—
The roaring torrent under the ground—

I was obscessed [sic] this spring with exploring abandoned coal-mines. (It is only years later I realized the foolhardiness of this. The chances I took were idiotic— It really is a wonder I escaped without serious injury or death— However, it was fun at the time—

Red houses at Salem mines
Raw shattered landscape---
Strange flowers sway in the false breeze of the railroad track.
The town clock strikes in the night— the old dream of the dark silent row of houses—

Charles E. Burchfield,    Apr 3, 1919