Fine autumn weather— Clear skies, warm sunshine— And wonderful cool breezes from the south— A calm quietness has settled over all things. The odor of burning leaves— What intoxication it contains!
It is almost an insult to nature to go to school on such days. I long for the woods. — The woods! — I often wonder [whether] I am naturalist or artist, for the pursuit of one hinders the other— I seem always to be deciding which it shall be— Of course it must be an artist, for [I] must live, but I am hoping for a day when I can give myself entirely up to Nature.
Charles E. Burchfield, October 8, 1913