Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, Vol. 39, July 28-August 15, 1934, pp. 29-32.
            All of us to Ohio, staying at the Coy place. [Burchfield’s next door neighbor in Salem, Ohio]
            As far as the auto is concerned, it was my “graduating thesis” as a driver. I think I strutted some with the new car; I deplored it while I was doing it, but did it in spite of myself.
            A trying ordeal, visiting relatives, no matter on which side of the house. The endless talk-talk-talk sometimes drove me nearly mad. There was too much going [on], too many people to see; we were always in a hurry.
            I found a senseless but keen delight in speeding east on the Greene road, from Albany – the road goes straight east across the Little Beaver Valley and up over the hill, with a gradual upgrade all the way to Greene. There seems a greater security in going fast up-grade; when I would come to this patch of road, I would unconsciously step on the gas, and soar. I have found any way that driving an auto is no way to see the landscape, when you want to do that someone else should drive, or better still, you should walk. When you drive, that is the only thing you are doing; and it is enough.
            One morning took a walk S.W. thru the woods to Covered Bridge & Egypt Rd & “Dutchman’s”
            Ramshackle coal [trestles] & coal sifters in mid-morning sunlight – the shrill songs of cicadas – the yellow sulphur streams — all belonging to my boyhood.
            The quiet road (Egypt Rd) – seems unchanged songs of peter-bird & cardinal –
            The lane to the Dutchman’s superseded by a coal mine track & trestle; —
            The long hot road north of Millville – glaring white – rail-fences are a hot violet darker than the road or sky, yet shimmering in sunlight – a white house in shadow, but a glaring violet-white, surrounded by dark green trees – the glaring white road throws a pink haze over the landscape.
            A trip to West Point, Wellsville, Steubenville one afternoon. Stop to see Mrs. Travis – Back thru Salineville (Sandwiches & Beer) – Storm comes up while at Lisbon – almost a cloudburst, with sharp flashes of lightning — can scarcely see the road, a fine experience.

            That I was seeing and visiting in the “old home for the last time did not affect me as much as I thought it would. It seemed so definitely to belong to 5the past. Played over some records one afternoon – which brought up nostalgic reflections for a time.
            One of the outstanding experiences of being at the Coy place, was hearing the calls of Bob-whites in the morning. I neve heard so many – I find it hard to put into words just how the call of these birds affects me — it seems to soften the landscape, to add a feeling of brave warm companionableness, like one boy calling to another.
            One night there was heat-lightning to the North. I stayed out a long time watching it — nowhere but in my childhood scenes in Ohio, do I feel the great vastness of the sky, and that each direction is authentically itself.
            The mild beauty of Ohio cast its spell over me again, but now that I am back home again, it has faded, and this country seems to be more mine now. Just before we came back, I took a walk out from town going the same route I used to take – some spots were entirely changes, and others were just the same as I remembered them – I enjoyed the walk, but it was a foolish, a dangerous thing to do. But now that I am up here again, the mental picture of all my old haunts is the same as they were of old.
            How I would have enjoyed taking Mother and Frances for a ride in the car. [Burchfield’s sister Frances had died on June 13, 1933; and his mother passed away just ten days later, on June 23.]