Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

A bluebird, its heavenly color revealed against the purple brown bushes.
Afternoon – the silver cobwebby glare of light on hemlock sprays – the golden glow of light on tree branches, throws the shadowed hemlock-enclosed ravine into deep purple black shadow. Once I stood with my back to the sun, and looked at the sun-filled woods – directly opposite the sun, near the horizon was a concentration of light, brilliant, glowing, and cerulean-emerald in color – above the sky was a deep cobalt – a black crow flaps ponderously across it –
Eventually, the sun declined so low, that the spirit of the hollow vanished; I suddenly was tired, and worked out. Not so much so, however that I could not pause a moment, and glory in the various kinds of buds on the trees, now swelling.
Apr. 3 – (Saturday) –
All day on “Two Ravines” – It progresses slowly, but still – it does progress.
Apr. 4 – (Sunday) –
This morning just after we sat down in our pew, Bertha whispered to me, that she did not remember turning down the gas in the oven. At first I thought I should go home but then we concluded we would take a chance. But when we arrived home, we found alas, that our dinner was all but ruined – The meat all burned on the bottom, some of the potatoes black, the rest, brown and hard – However we salvaged what we could, and then, at the table, after the first shock had subsided, we began to joke about it, and then we grew