Charles Burchfield, Journals, July 18, 1914

July 18. 1914 The fishing trip.

A fine, windy day. The walk out an enjoyable one. The air is warm but fresh and the breeze is cool.

Wheat in shock-yellow fields.

All things have an air of compactness. The cloud seems solid. The ground is hired by the alternating process of dashing rain and hot sun. The trees, tho windblown, seem a solid mass.

Song sparrows the only song.

Rolly chipper of goldfinches a new note-roadside birds.

Come to bridge. Jim sets turtle lines in fishes a while. Proceed north along creek. Clumps of beautiful butterfly weed along the stream. Watch visitors and one clump. Monarch butterfly-looked as though freshly out—first I have seen. Skipper, bumble bees. One or two milkweed Longhorn. They are more plentiful on common milkweed species.

The late summer and fall season of wildflowers has commenced.

Blue Vervain is in full bloom. Ground cherries and horse nettle are blooming. Also swamp loose strife phone flowers abound in mosquito growth. Arrived at camp. Soon at fishing. I go north. See heron.

Tiny frogs in mosquito growth.

Iron weed in bud.
Visit East Pond. Dried up.

Little toads. Muskrat hole. Water beetles. Sit on edge of pond.

The wind has brought a beautiful blue haze.

Come back to camp. Wind getting cold.

Make visit to West pond

Scare up five sheitpoke. Wish I had been less hasty. Kingfisher flies up with frog in beak and flies in direction of beech. I proceed south along pond. See one perched on limb. Not near enough to notice any markings. Harsh guttural cry. Suddenly flies up. Well perching seems to have no neck. In flight about a foot of red scrawny neck shows itself.

While waiting for return of birds a commotion in the water attracts my ear. Hear subdued splashings and circles of ripples. Hear something swimming upstream. All at once a black weasel comes out on back and shakes itself vigorously—I remain statuesque. He glides upon log and scratch his belly by gliding up and down. Another appears in still another. The third evidently unwelcome for he is pursued by the first one. Harsh squealing. What must be female follows a little behind. They wave a long and disappear.

Cautiously I advance to where I heard them last. Come to bank a pause. Finally one appears and scratch his belly as before. Continues and then sees me. A look half of curiosity and half fear comes into his beady eyes. Glides into hole in bank. A moment comes out and rear up on hind legs looks at me. Fear overcomes him and he darts back in. Mate comes and they both disappear.

Presently he comes out before and after looking at me slips out and proceed around the turn of the earth. I heard him in grass and feel he is watching me. Presently he returns to hole first staring hard at me. Once again he goes out, and is soon followed by his mate. As I hear them no more I consciously retreat.

Feel a buoyant sense of elation at the experience.
Shy posts abundant. One lights near me. Breast sparsely streaked. General color effects gray.

Beauty of gold thread forming a hopeless mesh on elder berries the leaves of Bush turn lemon yellow all of a sudden I hear Jim yelling for me and see him running towards camp with something in his hands. I answer. He says he has something I never saw before. It proves to be a black bars—a beauty. Jim so excited he seems like a little boy. I go down to hole with him.

A deep hole under roofs of button would around whose trunk had collected a great heat of brush.

He has a nice string of bass.

While idling I notice Sun.

Sunset—Sun agreed spot of pure golden yellow.—the metaphor seems overworked but can be described no other way. The wind, blowing through the yellow light carries it a long and mingling its with the deep blue haze, transit to a bridge brownish purple. The trees calm outlines with it.
The tree covered hill to the east catches the yellow light in the trees present a combination of brownish purple and blue.

Bobwhite.

Jim gets hook caught after freeing it I go to frog pond. On way hear katydids. A few fireflies commence to come up. I scare up one sheitpoke.

Clouds at West a light pink changing to R.V. A yellow light fills the air.

Charles Burchfield, July 18. 1914