Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

white and “weerie” - thus I may relive the scenes they recall.(HT)Last night and tonight I heard a noisy flock of sparrows in the poplar trees in front of the Baptist Church. Each leaf appar­ently had its bird. There was something peculiar about that chirp­ing, it was neither loud quarrelsome or harsh. For once they seemed in harmony. It even attained beauty sounding somewhat like water shattering on distant rocks. It agreed well with the trees twinkling & seemed the cause of it.