I arrived at the church on the Hill before noon – The wild wind swept thru black shadowed sheds, blue birds fluttered softly, while meadow larks out the air like a silver shaft – The mine glowed blackly at the white sunlight – out of its black void came a sulphorous stream – rumbling noisily over the rocks – eternity exists in the sound of brooks around old mines – a red star in the holes; then a man lumbered out; covered with romantic black; what a life is theirs, what powerful contrasts of black void and dazzling light –
Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, March 23, 1919