A brisk, cool sunshiny morning…I plant the wild-flowers we got Sunday and spread some of the rotten wood around them. This was a fine thing—The feel and the smell of the rotten wood was exhilarating. I thought, in that long ago, coming out of the Ark, and finding the damp woods fragile Dutchman’s Breeches, and digging one’s hands into the rich loam again, what a thrill it would be after the long monotonous trip on the boat, with nothing but water around, and you knew there was no shore anywhere in the world.
Charles E. Burchfied, May 1, 1965