Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

To Gowanda to call Bertha to tell her I would not be home for supper, then back to the same spot—
Explore wooded hill to the west—a fine dark, wild woods composed mostly of pines & hemlocks-- the canyon screened off except at one point, where there was an open promontory, covered with moss, with a view westward down the creek—The sun was now shining forth warm & strong, and I sat for some time on the warm moss. Cicadas. The first Underwing.
Young deer in a sumac grove.
East ward to an open space overgrown with all manner of low shrubs, & brambles. The red-bird—I answer his call, and eventually he flew to a dead chestnut tree,-- a marvelous incredible shot of red against the blue & white sky—I was like finding the “fountain of youth”—I seemed to feel strength surging thru my whole body. He stayed and sang for a long time.
I picked wild red & black raspberries & blackberries.
To car, and start homeward. I started with the plan of going east and taking the first road north & then first road to east etc, expecting eventually to strike the Boston Springville Road. Occasionally I stopped by the road to enjoy the evening. Once it was to pick some cardinal flowers to put into the goldenrod. Here I ate the remnant of my lunch.