Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

May 6, 1923 We parted at the bridge in the valley at the edge of Hamburg – Bertha & I. After a morning of futile attempts at fixing over our flats, we had run away to the country to forget it all. We had wandered down the creek west of Hamburg – had picked violets along the dry reedy banks – and had later eaten our lunch on a high bank overlooking the valley, listening to the calls of robins and meadowlarks & rejoicing in the sight of new leaves coming out on the trees, and talking aimlessly in perfect freedom & harmonyThen we had walked slowly back stopping a moment to dig dandelion greens – On the way Bertha had urged me to leave her & go on a brisk hike myself to the woods over in the east while she went up to a store & waited. So we had decided – we lingered a moment