Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

of interest–
I drove back to my original stopping place, where a ravine leading downward toward the valley had attracted me. I made a preliminary exploration, hoping to find a subject. I did, at once, of a fallen tree. While I was standing here, I had the thrill of seeing a miniature whirlwind of dead leaves start at the upper edge of the woods; it passed rapidly by me, went down the ravine a short ways, then partly ascending the opposite bank, suddenly enveloped, and the leaves, black against the light slowly fluttered past the haze of sunlit saplings, to the ground. I always, at this sight, feel as if in the presence of a miracle – It is hard to describe my sensations.
Mostly, while I was painting, the air was very still, but at times, a sudden wind would come, roaming thru the tree tops like a distant express train, then suddenly die down, and all was silent again, except for the murmuring of the brooklet –
When I was thru painting, I made a few studies, and then went down to the Colden store again to get some bananas as a treat for the family, and then back again to the ravine. I took my basket along, and dug some yellow violets and a squirrel corn, and picked a bouquet of Spring-beauties, I was fully atune [sic] to the hum and the place – the silvery sun sinking