Charles Burchfield, Journals, July 16, 1947

To Country between Hinsdale & and Cuba (Rt. 408) painting.

I was in search of a stream of the same character as the “Dutchman’s” or the Little Beaver Creek in Ohio, (planning to work on the reconstructed 1917 Sunlit Willows —)— I could not think of any that I had seen, with the exception of the larger Allegheny River at Salamanca. —

South thru West Falls & Colden, to Pointe 219 below Springville. —all creeks of the same characteristic of near the lake country — flat, shallow slate bottomed —

South on 16 — after some miles discover the kind of creek I wanted, but as it happened the road over the bridge spanning it had just been tarred, and the tar & oil sullied the surface of the creek.

On to Hinsdale—here the road being repaired, I turned east on 408— (I had never been to Cuba.) — almost at once I came upon an ideal creek running in a winding fashion along with the road, which I could easily have imagined to be the Little Beaver — Possibly it was Allegheny, or, since it flowed west, a tributary of that stream and therefore draining into the Gulf of Mexico, as did Little Beaver (Later on in the day, a few miles east of here, I came upon Black Creek which, since it flowed into the Genesee River, belonged to the Great Lakes, or St. Lawrence system.)

After a brief exploratory excursion, and picking out a tentative subject, I parked by the road and planned to carry my lunch down to the creek. It commenced to rain however and I was compelled to eat in the car. The shower became a blinding downpour, but fortunately did not last long. I soon had my outfit set up and was at work —

All afternoon on the painting — it was a pleasant spot, and a fine interesting day — a little rain at times, and again half misty sunshine. A large fish (bass?) at times jumped out of the water with a great commotion — turtles, deep voiced bull—frogs —

Finished about 6:00. Having been under a low — growing elm all afternoon, with only a small part of the sky near the horizon in my line of vision, I was totally unprepared for the magnificent clouds that were scattered over the sky — it is almost impossible to give any idea their infinite variations & grandeur. Startling effects with the high wooded hills — in the west a huge pillar of cumulus cloud that must have been four or five miles high — back of its head was a brilliant sunlit expanse like a halo — to the north deep blue black masses hugged the hilltop, and to the east and northeast a violent rain—storm was ragging —

Headed toward Cuba — picked flowers on the way — some white meadow rose, and brilliant red Oswego tea, and fringed loose—strife — A large patch of Oswego tea — while I stand, looking at it, a hummingbird came seeking the nectar— She paid no attention to me, and sometimes came within a foot of my head. A combination of power and daintiness. [Dug a few of the flowers for our garden] —

Cuba— (where 408 meets 305) — a glance at the map showed that 305 went N.E. to Belfast where it met Route 19 — I planned to take the latter to Canada, and 243 from there to Arcade.

N.E. on 305 — beautiful country — Park on a wide hillside — to eat lunch, afterwards, just sat and looked at the clouds. Low flat bars of cloud to north, and about it, just the top showing a pale remote thunderhead — a feeling of God abroad in the land.

It was dark before I got to Arcade (243 ended at 98 about 5 miles below Arcade) and the rest of the trip home was rather tiring.

Everyone liked the sketch I had made.

Charles E. Burchfield,   July 16, 1947