Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, March 18, 1936

[South East] of Aurora to snow-light woods. As I parked on the brow of the hill, and turned down the windows, joy in being alive swept over me. A vague misty sky; from a barnyard just below came the excited clatter of chickens, a primitive spring sound.

Just as I had finished strapping myself into my sketching paraphernalia, a few tiny flakes of snow commenced to fall. Hoping it would cease, I set out for the woods. As I tramped thru the soggy snow-covered floor of the woods, the snowfall increased. But it was beautiful- and the wind singing in the treetops stirred my blood.

Defeated, I returned to the car, and ate my lunch, in a leisurely fashion watching the landscape and the snow which increased. Afterwards, I took a walk in the woods, and then drove home.

To R.R. As I went up the street, I heard a crow. The soft gray soggy sky, a raw wet trees were transformed and I felt a power in myself and a confidence and independence- I am alone in the world, in my art, and it was good.

Charles E. Burchfield, March 18, 1936