Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, February 21, 1918

Snow patches under moonlight glows like phosphorous – At our feet the film of snow shines clear, there are a few weeds; as the field recedes, the bushes grow denser until at the top of a swell it is black – it seems as if a huge cloud-shadow were about to cover us –

A tiny rivulet falling noisily away under the ice – the ground is like stone, how does it run so near the surface?  It has a strange sound under the deathly moonlight –

Charles E. Burchfield, February 21, 1918