During a blizzard the night before Thanksgiving a flash of pink lightning and a clap of thunder—the wonder and mystery of nature were reborn—It is Thanksgiving morning—I am on my morning walk—the storm has cleared for us—the middle of the sky is a vast cavern of blue—to the south east the brilliant sun rides along the subtly shaped tops of a great bank of cold blue gray clouds, almost black—somewhere a snow storm is raging – to the north a low bank of pinkish clouds—but here it is clear and cold and bright—
Charles Burchfield, November 29, 1930