Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

It is like what I think that prairie grass looks like, but smaller – It grows in dense colonies and seems to be taking over every vacant lot and field. It is very beautiful in color light tawny pink – examined individually each stock has little feather-like seed-herds, all the way up the stem, on both sides, but staggered.
I came back to Ohio Ave. (E. Broadway) by way of Oak Street –
After breakfast – To see Mary P. down Lincoln, to Columbia – thence to Penn, to Main. Two buildings that were behind the Globe Skating Rink, unchanged, unpainted – Stop at McCulloch’s to see Edith, but they tell me she is not well. Here and there on Main some of the old buildings – but how incredibly narrow the street has become.
Down Chestnut, and into Mary’s by the backway, as I used to go. I found Mary thinner, more stooped, but otherwise well, and mentally bright.
[I forgot that, immediately after breakfast – with M.F. to station to meet Jimmy – Here nothing has changed – the two Trains the Cleveland and the Pittsburg Flyers meeting almost but not quite at the same time. Their whistles the same. Another strange experience] –
From Mary’s I walked up High, to the alley leading to Fourth past out house; as I walked up it, again there was the unbelievable shrinkage – Our house covered with the ubiquitous asbestos shingles, and hideous.
Up Forth to Roses thence to Fifth. No one at home at Edith’s