Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

Wednesday May 27, 1914

     Yesterday while standing under our cherry tree, delighting in the breeze, which was cleaning up after a small thundershower, a humming-bird - a delicate mite of a thing dropped down out of the wind and with that remarkable ease of poise and balance, pro­ceeded to sip the honey from the columbine. At once I uncon­sciously began to philosiphize on the incident. My first thought was - what a delightful life-work was his - to merely sip honey from flowers. And second thought was: were allowed to sip nothing but honey would not its sweetness which we prize, eventually become sour and as gall to us?  Coming to my senses however I exclaimed as if in rebuke to my own thought. “But why spoil such a pretty scene with such aimless eulogizing.” And indeed why? What a scene painted  - but could it be painted?