Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, September 10, 1914

Heavy frost. Roofs white. Brilliant sun’s rays plunging swiftly thru the cold-laden air shattered the frost to dust, some of which floated aimlessly around in a scummy haze and some of which condensed on grass blades in sparkling frost dew.

One imagines he never inhaled such air or sunshine.

Wet spots on a tar-roof a deep but brilliant blue.

Sky pale & whispy.

Mists at horizon. Sun whitened houses looking eastward. Sun saturated smoke hovers lazily around.

Noonwards & afternoon sky becomes smeary white & hazy. Sunlight dim. Tinny “cheweenp” of goldfinches fill the air.

Sky grows darker towards evening. Sounds prolonged. White smoke pushes slowly & with difficulty straight up thru the heavy air. Having attained a certain height snaps off shorts & travels westward. It is very quiet. The summer is over when rain comes in this fashion.

Sky vaguely dappled, at first I thought it plain. A train­-whistle echoing & re-echoing thru the elastic rainy air, followed by a roar of wheels & tracks.   

Charles E. Burchfield, September 10, 1914