Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

23. pilgrimage almost – and so it seemed to me this morning, my first visit here since early last Fall – apparently less rain has fallen here than at Gardenville, for it is very dry. The expected fresh lushness of May is lacking – many young trees are dead from last winters [sic] cold, and everywhere I see signs of yesterday’s freeze – withered sumac, butternut, & walnut –

The Pine grove on the knoll – a refreshing dark coolness – the creek is low, and is of a vivid robin’s egg blue, very beautiful in contrast to the yellow green foliage of the trees around – the fragile beauty of fringed polygala. The promontory where I painted “March Sunlight,” grows smaller each year as erosion eats away the edge. Down the steep hillside to creek - Hot & sultry down here – the high cliffs above look ominous, and great masses of slaty rock look ready to fall at any time. Searching for mushrooms – difficult to see in the bright sunlight as they are of a color with the dead leaves – Find enough for a little “mess” – explore little grove east of “Martin’s Point” – a distinct druidic feeling about this woods not usually present in such places. The fantastic cataract coming down the stony hillside, - strange I never discovered it before –

Climb up hillside here – a hot sweaty struggle, and I arrive at top completely winded & panting – I lay