A.M. puttering in studio.
P.M. Take Sally, Catherine & Arthur to chestnut ridge. While they slide, I alternately watch the fun, and go to the “casino” to warm myself.
It is a raw day, a fine snow driven by a bitter east wind. The sky above is like the interior of a vast pearl, in the Western half of which about 4:30 appeared a faint rosette glow, which soon faded, leaving the sky pearl gray again, which slowly deepened as twilight fell.
When we arrived home, Arthur’s feet had become so numb he was in tears.
Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, January 18, 1939