Tops were nervous white-edged trees dancing! / As we came out the air was colder, the lights sparkled and snapped the wind pushed back the shoulders. I walked out of course. Bob came with me. A discussion of the War, that was tiring - not tiring in a strict sense, but while it was in progress I did not feel the touch of the wind. / Evening spent in reading Edward Sheldon’s Romance.
Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, December 6, 1914