Charles Burchfield, Journals, July 29, 1914

Arise early to draw morning glories.

A cold breezy morning. 

In a short while my hands are numb.  Sky partly covered with cold airy clouds tops yellowed by the sun, which vanish just as soon as the sun ascends as high as the house-tops.

The icy wind sending a shower of white o’er the trees invites to a ramble.

Shortly after a brief time of clear sky comes a whole army of big airy clouds, and all day they float past. The wind has veered to the northeast.

These clouds are fine types of windy day clouds.  One would expect wild torn mists hurrying haphazard across the sky. The “bottom” or “base” of these are in a straight line all parallel (sic) to each other & to the horizon the “tops” being broken by small full curves.  They remind one of beaten eggs & suggest their stiffness.  The sky is an intense chalky blue, and the sun, itself dazzlingly bright, is intensified by the lividly white edge of the clouds.

The wren is rampant again this morning & at noon, never seeming to pause for breath.

Sundown time brings the usual clearing of the sky, while the sun is yet three hours high.  The air is brittle & renders all earthly objects so.  One imagines if he could reach the clouds with a long pole, a good thwack with it would shatter the cloud into countless atoms.

Sunset a glorious one of dark blue clouds & an eye-straining red-violet light which spread out from the sun. A fitting sequel to such a day.

Charles E Burchfield, July 29, 1914