Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

65. first time in a month, I am at peace.

     There were several unforgettable moments at the Bridges, which stick in my memory. One day a strong cold east wind came out of the east. In the afternoon a cold rain began to fall, which soon changed to snow. The sight of great flurries of flakes going past the great black counter–weights was beautiful. Another time the bridge lifted for a lake freight to pass thru.

     Early in the “game” I determined to call this picture “Black Iron”

     Saturday, Arthur & I went alone to my “Trillium woods” south-east of Hamburg. It was truly a “red-letter” day for me, and I hope for him, I had long looked forward to just such a trip as this, that I would take with my boy; from the time he was a helpless baby I thought of the time when he could tramp with me into the woods. And he measured up to my highest expectations, entering into and enjoying hugely all the little things I hoped he would.

     It was a fine, warm day, with brilliant sunshine. As we left the car, and strolled along