Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, November 10, 1924

On my walks to and from work I often think of the old Salem days, with something of regret for the lost bottom-lands of the Little Beaver.  I miss the rattling swamp at sunset time when the birds are calling cozily twittering as if in lazy conversations.  But I have daily reminders of these things.  My little babies sound like little birds and often make me think of the swamp noises – Mary Alice with little songs and jabberings and Martha with her cooings and rasping calls for attention.

Charles Burchfield,  November 10, 1924