Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

[...] most painfully ingratiating manner. Towards mid afternoon I established myself in the grape arbor.  The thunderheads had rolled away to the east and were followed by a brisk breeze, which, while it was not cool, set the air in motion, having the desired effect. The last thunderheads were still visible in the east, in the west the clouds were of a dappled nature.(HT)The panicum grass in our yard, which is uncut, is ragged with light green seed clusters, which have not yet bloomed.(HT)I have not heard the yellowbird since I have been down here, while in Cleveland it was the predominating note.  Well do I call recall how when forced to remain in the library, the sound of this bird used to set me wild.  Somehow the bird’s coloring, and his fragmentary call, are aptly expressive of that season in which he arrives.  All trees and bushes and just halfway out and the air is full of that yellow-green quality common at the time.