Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, October 31, 1914

The twenty-ninth was a rainy windy day, my impression of which

was the poetic sight of tumbleweeds lumbering along over the wind-streaked rainy grass.  At Bob’s for supper, to school for eveninq to work on decorations for freshman reception.

Yesterday & today have been fine October days - fit endinqs for such a wonderful month. There was more wind yesterday, less today. Yesterday there were clouds - today none - a deep blue sky. Most trees are almost bare; some yet are green - poplars, Japanese poplars, great willows and some others.  Of late there have been leaf bonfires in Wade Park which saturate the whole woods with blue smoke, the scent of which swims the head.

Eastman (on our walk to school from lunch) said the wind “got on his nerves” upon my remarking that it was life to me.  Bob R said that he liked a hot sultry still day. I cannot reconcile that with his giant physique or his mind.

I could not get my mind on school work today, but found myself sneaking looks out of the window - Once I went up to the west life-room (which was not being used and crawled out on the parapet. Here I spent an hour or so revelling in the roar of the wind in the trees, and sometimes jotting notes.  Once I heard someone come in the room, and I grew panic-stricken - fearing they might see the open window and close it on me, but they soon went away.

To Villa afoot and back.  Once while looking at some picturesque trees my mind was carried to some wild remote land where naught was but wind sunshine and sky, and I was given another glympse of the joy of solitude. Such occasions are rare and are like a sparkle of dew sunshot burning on a grass-­tip. They leave me with a vague sense of longing for something I have lost and cannot regain. No doubt they are remembrances of my trips afield this summer.

Last night took Miss Finley to the Freshman Reception (Warparty). Excitement before supper.  Costumes. Supper. Customs

House, France, Switzerland, Holland. The War in the Auditorium. Hospital.  Dancing.

Miss Finley almost represents the spirit of the Dance.  Rhy­thm is second nature to her.

I am somewhat uncomfortable in her company.  She seems to be taking stock of my conversation - that is, seeking to see thru my sentences to discover if they are sincere or not, and telling me so.

This evening to Kokoon Klub Halloween celebration on Kaiser’s invitation.  A small exhibition of work by members – Singing and refreshments –

Charles E. Burchfield, October 31, 1914