Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

[inscription reads] ground. / The soft leaves float down like a sparkle of yellow butterflies against a September sky. Nothing has quite so keen a sense of fun as a fallen leaf says Barrie. With what riotous joy they pursue an auto down the lane! / October woods - a sparkling splotch of orange against the blue. / The shadows of falling leaves rushing toward me on the green grass! / At noon Bob & I plan our menu for our walk Sunday. Bob gives me Ingersoll’s “Why I am an "