Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, Vol. 42, August 28, 1939, pp. 37-38.

            Later in the afternoon I drove beyond Sinnamahoning. [sic] Stopped awhile by the road to watch the reflections in the Sinnemahoning Creek. At this point the stream ran north and south; to the west from its banks, after a narrow flat, arose a great longish hill, tree-covered, jutting up into the hot sky like a great forbidding wall. The water was absolutely quite like glass; of a transparent brownish tone, it mirrored objects perfectly, but darkened and browned their color. The great hill, the tips of whose trees caught the light from the declining sun, was transformed into a thing of indescribable beauty as it appeared below, upside down, and tho its plane narrowed and receded much more rapidly than above, each object was clearly defined. I tossed a large stone into the water, at the nearest edge. The ripples spread out and multiplied at a calm majestic pace. When they came into contact with the sunlit treetops, the transformation was beyond analysis; an intricate interweaving of shapes that was like a maze of tapestry weaving. Again and again I repeated the performance.