Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

55. rich misty orange light, that deepened to reddish tones in the shadows. Directly above the hills the sky was tinged with the sunbow, but upward then, the sky had a delicate pale cobalt color, that in its purity and delicateness was almost miraculous; the effect was heightened by a few flakey lemon-white clouds.

     The air was filled with the shrill clatter of hundreds of hylas piping from the swamps, and the lusty calls of robins. Once a blue bird came and put for a time on a young sapling, and sang facing the east. A ripple in the stream below caught my eye, and I saw a muskrat come half up out of the water, then drop back. He swam (CD) to one bank, and I was able to follow his course by the silver ripple he made against the dark green reflections of the pines.

     I watched until the last sunlight faded from the distant hills. Later as I was nearing Springville, I had a glympse (sic) of the sun, a hale crimson half-circle, just above the horizon.[i]

                   Thurs. Apr. 16 -

     Day spent in working in the garden. A beautiful warm sunshiny day. I dug up, thinned and replanted the rhubarb. Also the bleeding heart which I discovered rotten and worm eaten. Put in the hepaticas, and did some redding up. I am completely devoid of any life or event thoughts about painting - this from my effort yesterday.[ii]