For a short drive with Harry & Dick. The woods are bare – the sunlight bright with scattered clouds – the southern horizon glowed with a bright halation. Leave Dick to sketch an old bottling works, while Harry drives me homeward. A heavy blanket of clouds had come up which cast a cold November mood over the day. But as we proceeded northward, holes appeared in the cloud masses; a high wind was blowing, and ragged patches of sunlight seemingly torn by the wind, flow across the barren landscape with a startling effect that was indescribably beautiful.
Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, October 27, 1929