A “dreamy” spring day. Rainy sky; warm air — it blue mist.
Noon in Park — I was thrilled by the myriad birds on all sides, singing & calling. There were many unfamiliar birds — Faint bloom in trees — cottonwood balls dropping; ends of some trees cracking —
At late afternoon a dense blue haze came — the rain mist seems always new to me — what an afternoon to idle on the top of a round hill in the midst of a march —
Recalling the memory [of] the season a few weeks ago, I realized that another epic of Nature has gone by, without me being there — my heart sank.
Hatred of my forced duties is growing to such a degree it hinders me in appreciating what little I may see of nature —
Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, April 13, 1916