Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

parently grey - another answers him and I cannot detect any diff­erence in their notes but at odd times they call together; one is pitched slightly lower than the other, producing a wierd ecstacy of sound, which reminded me of the overture in Mendelsohn’s Mid­summer’s Night Dream. They call without cessation. My effort to see them lead me to swamp - a wild growth of swamp grass pink thorough wort & white cowbane. Sun just setting a large gold ball in red purple haze. Later, after it has disappeared the sky is a dreamy smear of crimson yellow