Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

more, a fine mist was falling which, to look at the dull solid grey sky, might at any moment turn to a rain. Roofs and sidewalks quickly became wet and reflected what light there was; the grass bristled with water-drops as after a heavy dew; and nasturtiums fairly shone with sparkling drops of dew - I wonder often why anyone ever compared them to diamonds, when the latter fall so short of them in beauty and brilliancy?

In a short time the mist ceased to fall, and the sun appeared first showing only as a dull white spot in the misty sky; as the minutes passed it brightened steadily until it became a bright glow and finally, a sudden flash of yellow ran across my desk, remained a few moments then disappeared.

     While this seemed to indicate a speedy clearing up still now the misty clouds gathered more thickly and driven by a cooling wind they raced across the sky all day. But even on dark days there are things of beauty to notice.  To-day it