Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

but worse than the worms themselves are the webs by which they hang. I know that this is true also in the case of spiders – to run one’s face in a web is much more disagreeable then to find the spinner of the web on me.(HT)I did not lose sight of the pleasant things however. Robins, catbirds and the “wee-nie” birds abounded. The latter's call is synonymous with blue mists in the tree valleys just on the point of being broken away by the white sun-rays.(HT)Once a Jay scolded.(HT)At the end of Bentleys I came upon a bed of pink oxalis that was indeed a fine sight. When I had picked them, I made my way into Farquhar’s. The hillsides here were overgrown with sparkling jewel-weed – prolific plant that it is. In some places were flourishing colonies of flowering false solomon’s seal. There was more rivalry in the chorus here. First a Peter-bird held attention but soon divided honors with a red-bird; and deeper in the hollow, cicadas drowned out other