Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

7.   The Lockport country disappointed me, partly I suppose because I was still imprisoned in spirit by the weeks of worry, exhibitions, and other duties – I drove on to Medina, and then decided to head south for the Wyoming Village country. Altho I saw many beautiful effects, I could not decide on any one thing. I stopped at Wyoming to get dome honey. (Noticed here, a glass case full of odd stones etc.)

     Growing more discouraged as the afternoon waned. It was not until the sun was low, and its light falling on some rolling hills to the east, with a rich orange glow, that I finally gave up all thoughts of painting, and could really enjoy the beauty of the day.

     Wishing to get some high point to see the sun set, I turned off of the road I was driving on (which turned out to be the Dale road running north from the Warsaw (20-A) road) onto a narrow road leading westward up to a high table-land. At the high-point, the road turned northward, meeting a dirt road which ran south-west; the junction forming a little triangle of turf. Here I parked the car.

     And it was here that I threw off all the destructive yearning for the country in Ohio , and the sense of frustration that goes with such a longing. This ever-recurring nostalgia arose from the obsession that here in Gardenville, I have lost all sense of directions and with it the elemental side of nature. North – East – South – West, do not seem to have their true character.

     But in this spot, where I spent the evening, I experienced again all the elemental feeling of direction –