Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

Morning was wonderful.  Yesterday’s thundershowers had cleaned the air out; and had refreshed all living things.  Sky was a clear deep blue; and a cool embracing wind capered about here and there coming from all sorts of unexpected places to force a smile from us.  One smiled involuntarily on such a morning.  On such a morning one could conquer the world if the occasionarose (!) On such a morning one had no enemies and was everybody’s friend.  On such a morning nothing was so lowly or mean but what it had some beauty, borrowed perhaps from the sunshine itself.  On such a morning one must thank God he was alive!

     Later in the day, filmy whimsical clouds dreamy misty creations, August’s own sigma spread over the sky.  What innumerable shades of white, grey, slate and blue!  What fantast-