Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

Apr. 23—
All of us to church.
Apr. 24—
Emma & Mary to train
A beautiful morning—hepaticas out in full. They have not wintered well. A little weeding.
[P.M. a “line-storm” that seemed to misfire. However in its early stages it gave all the promise of a terrific event. A great low-shaped mass of dark clouds with eerie cold white rifts, writhing and swiftly changing as they swept on. In the midst of them, were several large groups of night-hawks, riding with the storm, and constantly sailing in little circles. There must have been in all, over a hundred of them, and they presented a thrilling sight. “That” I said “is just what I would do if I could fly”—]
The storm seemed to disintegrate almost at once, but later a quiet steady rain commenced.
Apr. 25, (Tues.)
Cold, drizzling,-- wind from S.W. Lunch with Schwanekamp & Williams at the Rotisserie—a pleasant hour.
To market—Smeja, who asks a lift home—his wasting of black market buying revolting.
Walked to the P.O. before bed-time to post a couple letters to the girls: Still raining—the trees beautiful with their silver highlights.