Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, November 23, 1919

Last night’s wild sweep of clear sky turned suddenly today into a soft rain & then a soggy snow- North to Albany sketching—The flock of the blue birds drifting along in the rain; in the rain hazed field they were hardly visible till they moved- It is wonderful that snow fall makes trees on distant feathery blurrs [sic] — The trees are full of millions of raindrops that form a sort of sparkling haze, blending with the haze of yellow willow twigs —The steady down down down pour of snow- the leaves are ticking- these same leaves that are rattling now under the snowflakes, chattered once in the advance wind of a summer thunderstorm- a distant train puffing–The snow streaks past the tangled grapevines and the burning bush— a silvery grey whiteness looms up from the broad fields—Light streaking up over the snowcovered porch roof– like dried bean pods, with the blackeyed beans to roll out—and I like to hear a teakettle singing in Autumn.

Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, November 23, 1919