The wild barbaric music of the telegraph wires, stirred-by an electric cold wind from the emerald northern sky – The calls of crows are transformed – Burning sunlight streaming over the brilliant snow – A door, with flaking paint in sunlight – Last night the M.A. & M. to see Heifetz picture at Allendale – just as we go in – Venus & Jupiter close together, sparkling in a deep indigo twilight sky – When we come out, walk up Mariner to showgirls where I roomed in 1922 (109) – The cold white moon high overhead above the black brooding houses. When home – out in the backyard – A marvelously clear brilliant sky – Orion high in the S.W. – the Pleiades in the west – The moon cold and white on the snow – A mysterious but friendly quality to the night. – One seem surrounded with a Presence austere, but kindly. This morning, as I paused by the French-Union Bridge to look out over the S.E. landscape, I first really saw our village in its true topographical relation to the whole surrounding country – The air was so clear and brilliant, that the low-lying Chestnut Ridge hills ten miles to the south stood out clearly, and the plain in between
Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, February 21, 1940