Returning from the city line this morning, I was startled on hearing what I thought was the song of a wood thrush, at the corner of [Indian Church Road] & Union. So much so that I forgot to leave the car at Nenners as I had planned to do.
When I returned a few moments later, he was still there. I went over and soon saw him sitting on a branch of the willow tree. He kept up his song almost continuously. What a heaven-like song! It is impossible to describe. Surely [it] is near the top of bird music. (I had never heard the famous hermit thrush song, but I like the wood thrush song better than the Veery). A beautiful creature too, with its rich yellow brown top & dark speckled breast –
After listening until it was impossible to take in more of such rapture, I returned home and persuaded [Bertha] to come down to listen. This time he flew down into the ditch to search for worms or other insects, and we had a clear view of him. A dainty aristocrat.
A cool day, wind from the N.E., low-hanging misty clouds in vaguely defined layers.
Weeding some in the garden, and studying the night hawk picture -
Charles E. Burchfield, May 17, 1946