Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, August 8, 1939

Sketching Trip

To Emporium country –

My subject was one I had discovered last week, about fifteen miles below Emporium, – two old iron railroad bridges at the foot of a long wooded hill. The hill seemed to embody for me, the essential mood of a fragment I set down several years ago, which I called “Old August Hill” (and ancient time – warm hill brooding in the mystic August sunshine.)

I arrived a little before noon. – The sun was too far to the left for my purpose, so I drove on for three miles to a point where I could park the car on the edge of a high embankment. Here I ate my lunch. Afterwards I made a pencil study of a range of hills to the west. It was interesting how the receding planes of the hills were revealed by the tops of the trees, which necessarily seen at a more acute angle, were more closely set together, revealing none of the sides of the trees, and therefore presenting a lighter, yellower streak.

Worked until 5:30 on the two bridges & hill, without much real accomplishment. Tired out from my long drive and afterwards work, I set out for Emporium, first changing my clothes in a wooded glade, so as to make myself more presentable at the hotel.

A gas-station attendant directed me to the Hotel harper, where I secured a room.

I got a glass of beer at the “Tap” room, and then took a little stroll around the turn before looking for dinner. Though it was only half-past six (half-past five by Emporium time) the sun had already gone behind the high hills, throwing a premature sort of twilight over the valley.

I saw many interesting things on my walk – old houses, railroad buildings, etc. – in fact, the afternoon’s walk seemed to have set my mind attune to everything.

The garden of dahlias and gladiolas (The huge dahlias)

After my walk I eagerly went to my room, to look at my afternoon work, hoping that a rest from it would reveal some venture in it, that the heat of the work obscured. So it proved, – it now seemed to have possibilities, and already I longed for the next day’s work.

The hotel clerk recommended “The Coffee Shop” across the street, and there I got a reasonably good meal. I bought a newspaper and sat down on the hotel veranda awhile, where were gathered some other men, presumably hotel guests. I found the street scene mildly interesting, but I can remember no outstanding point, except that it took me back to the Salem days in spirit.

I toyed with the idea of going to a movie for diversion, althothe program was not interesting. When I learned it was “bank nite” however, I made my decision easily, and went for a stroll.

Half of the town is built on the hill-slope, the side streets leading upward from main St at a rather acute angle. I walked up one of these streets and threw myself down under an oak-tree, growing on the upper edge of a large vacant green. The sun had set, even beyond the hills, – a vague blue shadow seeped into the overlapping hills to the west; in main st below, the night lights were coming on, and looked especially garish because they were not needed yet for light.  

I discovered suddenly that I had left my bill-fold, containing most of my money in my trousers in the car. Though the car was locked, I could not rid myself of the worry of it, so I went down and secured the “precious” article, after which [sic] I again went for a stroll, this time, walking on the brightest street parallel to main, going to the extreme eastern part of the town, to the railroad.

Coming back, I bought a couple more newspapers, and a “Mercury”, and went to my room.

I thrashed around in bed for some time [sic] but eventually went to sleep.

Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, August 8, 1939