Last Monday – (May 22) – To Zoar Valley to make a painting of the old Gothic (Lace Gables) House, with the lilac bush in bloom (as I have wanted to do ever since I first discovered it on a mid-may walk from Gowanda to Springville, back in 1930).
The lilacs were at the most enchanting stage, that is, partly open, so that the general effect of the color was an incredibly rich reddish lavender, which in juxtaposition with the peculiar hot orange-brown of the wood under the eaves, the gray-violet sides, the dull olive roof, and the raw rank greens in the lawn, became almost bizarre, or lurid in its intensity.
The weather was ideal too, after the storm – great loose misty masses of cloud, sweeping from the west, driven by a moist warm breeze.
A good part of my interest in this subject was its strange assembly of local colors, so much so that perhaps I slighted forms and expression a little.
I painted all day with great vigor and happiness. Yellow warblers abounded it, and darted back and forth quarreling or making love, in beautiful contrast to the raw fresh greens of the trees and bushes they sported in.
An occasional hoarse call of a caw, and metallic clatter of a blue-jay – reminded me of the day in August, 1935, when I made another painting of this house.
The tree – studded hills to the west were of peculiar interest. The trees being of such raw yellows + yellow greens, and partially obscured by the thin mist in the air, they gave the hills the appearance of being partially sunlit. Their beauty was exquisite.
I did not eat my lunch until after five. I was loathe to leave the spot, so beautiful and satisfying was the color.
The next day (Tuesday, May 23) I went down again to make some additional studies of the lilac bush. Some of the time the sun was shining, the air was sickeningly warm and humid. I stayed until after noon, when, a blue black storm looming above the hills to the west, I determined to drive to the eastern head of the valley, to be in a better spot to watch the sight.
I did so, and spent a pleasant hour on the edge of the Valley, eating my lunch, and then studying the landscape and dreaming. (The storm passed to the north)
I went home early, and then regretted it.
Charles E. Burchfield, May 27,1939