Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

lying down is no better. Brought home a red amaryllis for B (for Monday) a gorgeous flower.  Had Art buy a radio from the druggist for B for Mother’s Day, for use in the kitchen, and we presented it just after supper, to her surprise & delight. Evening listening to radio—rain again. May 2—(Friday). Dark & raining—but what a glorious thing a spring rain is. It is easy to imagine that the sounds of growing things can be heard—the air full of the songs of birds (Songsparrows, robins, mourning-doves, flitches, and the independent whistling of starlings) meadowlarks from some misty field)—One feels surrounded by a nimbus of spring. P.M. Sketch of view toward Hess’—the budding wild cherry of Albarillis being the feature, with a songsparrow in its uppermost branch, head to sky, singing. A glorious afternoon, with pale misty sunlight & grey wisps of cloud and occasional rain. The songsparrow sang almost incessantly. Finish a little after six. After supper—picking up my paraphernalia etc—a fine evening—almost too poignant to either endure or write about—my mind on fire, I picked out six or more possible ideas for sketches. A pale misty moon high in the east—Robins. Sally calls up—are excited about our visit.