Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

scrawny sunflowers, and ascending a steep hill & climbing fence I found myself in a high pasture. I was at once enveloped by a sense of superiority and elation. The pasture was broad & flat and high - the grass was dried + whitish and struck by the late afternoon sun grew whiter & hense broader. To the east were the green beeches hiding the view. To the west were the misty woods, which seemed carved out of some rare marble, which was green blue and semi transparent as agate. Here & there looming on the horizon were