To canal in search of wild morning glories—it is a calm mellow misty morning—the mind is at peace. There was a something in the air, some odor perhaps as I passed a picket fence chattered with dead plants, that recalled to me forgotten habit of my childhood, of searching out beanpods in the garden that had been forgotten, & were now dried and had a peculiar smell.
Charles Burchfield, September 24, 1923