Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, March 8, 1921

The first warm dusty day that has swept out of the Southwest; the sun in the morning had the peculiar gold effect that comes only in the early spring; and at evening there is the surprise of Maple trees in bloom. 

In spring I am more apt to be reminiscent; to look back with tender sadness at the Springs that I have experienced before, rather than to look forward to the future as might be expected; it is in Autumn I look to new projects, but in Spring, in the evening when the robins make the air alive with their singing and buoyant calling, there passes thru my mind the remembrance of former joys past, which seem so much greater than the present.

So tonight I thought of how on an evening like this, I would be sitting at my window, thinking just such thoughts as these, when I would suddenly hear a bounding step on the porch and Bill would burst in, shouting “Where’s Eph?”, and then we’d depart into the dusk on some adventure such as only green High School students can conceive and execute.

Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, March 8, 1921