Charles Burchfield, Journals, December 2, 1930

A bitterly cold night—I could not sleep for the cold, nor could I warm myself with more cover—I lay cramped, filled with pessimistic thoughts about my life and work—The mood persisted all day, but at evening I took a walk—a sullen orange opening in the dark leaden sky to the southwest, against it the jet black infirmary and the elms—the wind is now out of the south, and sends the snow back from where it came last night—

Charles Burchfield, December 2, 1930