Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

104.                    December 19, 1935-

A.M. by auto to woods on Hempstreet Rd southest (sic) of East Elma, where Arthur & I went last spring. When after climbing the little winding lane up the hillside, I came out into the open at the top, I could hardly realize how good it was to be out in the woods again, after months of denial. A dead weed; Virgin’s Bower seeds with a little puff of snow on each cluster, how beautiful. I looked up into the vast gray sky, which was luminous with the invisible sunlight behind the clouds (a sort of electric brilliance, almost more dazzling than real sunlight) and felt: I am home again – this is mine. Later, in a pine grove, the dark solemnity of the trees, with the light gray sky behind, recalled to me the truth that gets obscured somehow or other, that here only can I be with God; the spirit coming thru these trees is both me and my creator, merged. I experienced such a feeling of complete peace and happiness as I have not known for months-

  Countless animal tracks everywhere – a crow’s house caw; and busy chicadees (sic), paying no attention to me.