Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, August 12, 1915

A Wonderful dream I had early this morning. I was, as is my custom watching the progress of the weather all day. It had been a day of wonderful clouds, which I cannot remember – As the sun neared the horizon, the sky became comparatively clear & the sun boiled gold. The air was full of a thick heavy Autumn haze which was colored yellow by the sunlight except at a distance where was a route of naked trees; which intercept the sun’s rays so that the haze behind was not golden but a startling blush white. As I walked along, taking feverish mental notes (for I was with a company of people & could not sketch, I suddenly noticed a wonderful sight in the trees along the walk. On them were appearing fantastic shapes of which I discovered to be the haze condensing in frost on the bark, for the air was become suddenly cold.

A clear up day after the rainy night. A wonderful sunset.

More & more my inharmonious relations with “things” forces itself upon me. If only I had some music or perhaps a picture I could forget in a measure some of the things I see & hear.

Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, August 12, 1915