Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

For the only sounds are the calls of robins & complaint of a catbird.Continue. Every willow alive with the startled flutter of wings.Mount a high mound - coming from the damp river air to the dry hot air of the upland is a peculiar sensation - and sit down among some scrubby apple-trees to watch the western sky. It is lit up with a rose-yellow glow, thru which shoot long almost unnoticeable rays. The horizon is red-purple. The yellow light spreads thru all the land. The trees are dimmed in the blue mists