Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

to throw the eastern side of the hills into shadows, catching only the tops of the trees with light. ; Tired as I was, I had to force myself to start painting, but once started I grew very enthusiastic and without pause, completed the painting in a couple of hours. When I finished I was exhausted and so thirsty I thought I could not wait till I got back to the spring. ; Shortly after starting back to Emp., I picked up a couple of women who were going to Emp. to “bid someone goodbye.” They were both smoking cigarettes. The older one, who sat in front with me, chattered incessantly about things that did not interest me. I wanted to watch the landscape, and so only gave her monosyllabic replies, and not always the right ones perhaps, as evidenced by her puzzled silence following. At the spring, she got out too for a drink, and seeing some touch-me-not on the bank, told me that it was a sure cure for poison-ivy. Seldom have I ever enjoyed water as much as then. ; After I had gotten a room, I went to get my supper, intending to make a few notes afterwards. I sat facing the street, and then two buildings opposite, I could see a patch of the great hill that lies along the entire length of the town to the south, and I could observe the evening shadows slowly deepen on it, as it changed from smoky blue-green, to deep blue-black, and I realized sketching was out. Never-the-less, I impatiently hurried them my meal, hoping I would be able to see something. It was useless however, but I walked around a bit listening to the various sounds – women scolding, a crooning to the accompaniment of their children’s plaintive voices, various railroad sounds, or the medley of sounds arising from the