Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

(Note: See page 50 for which this is continuation)

treacherous by silent flowed swiftly along – the whole harnessed a sort of iron-like solemnity that gave me again the feeling of the divine presence pervading the whole space. I was loathe to leave the spot.
The long black hill or maze of ground with last years cornfield beyond.
Mounting the hilly road that leads to town I looked back over the twi-lit landscape – vague mists arising – all edges, outlines vague & soft – a feeling of after the great flood.

Apr. 8 – 1928

A wonderful day – wild sweeping blizzards, and now brilliant sunshine alternating – the sky a vast battle ground of the elements – with great gaping holes in some places, shot with the rays of the blinding sun & full of a maze of varying shades of light & dark, & at the same time, in other parts the vague gray fog of a blizzard oncoming the distant fields and wooded hills.
PM. With Victor & children for auto ride. Fields raw & smooth with patches of brilliant emerald of wheat startling the eye. At Springbrook the waterfall spray blown up by wind, trees & bushes all around weight down with white ice – once the sun flashed out & they glittered blinding against the blue-black rugged sky—