Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

is covered with them now. Were it not for the wind, there would be a dead calm in the earth. What a change the absence of sunlight makes! The trees in the valley seem as tho stricken with paralysis. The sight of the wind streaked chestnuts against the grey sky is suggestive of fall.Bethinking myself of a return I seek the path leading to the bottoms. Desirous of getting a bouquet of flowers, I make for an ironweed clump. Thus it is I find a tiny rivulet. In hopes of a spring to quench my thirst I follow it up hill, as it trickles over moss-covered sandstones