Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, December 12, 1947

A dream:

Working in an old factory (a combination, in spirit, of Mullins and Birge)—it seemed to be made of wood and unpainted—it was situated on the back of the Ohio River, with a huge door affording a view over it. Suddenly there was a great commotion and outcry outside down the river in the village- I heard someone shout, “A murder has just been committed” Everyone started rushing out the inn (among them I recognized Oscar Anthony). I too ran out, I noticed that the river (very narrow and shallow) was full of uprooted trees and old rotting logs. I looked down the river just in time to see the murderer trying to escape, swing himself on the low hanging branch of a great elm out over and across the river; he landed with a splash on the far edge and scrambled madly up the bank- close on his heels, likewise swinging on a branch came a state trooper—the chase led up thru a scattered settlement situated on the foot of high rocky cliffs- in and out and around houses, over fences the murderer went, with the trooper gaining. Finally, there was no way left open but up the face of the cliff itself, and it seemed hopeless for the murderer—just as he was about to be caught, I awoke.     

All day on “December Sun” It is a different picture.

Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, December 12, 1947