Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, March 11, 1938

On my walk, by the railroad, I noticed a huge flock of starlings in a field, feeding and clattering noisily. Spotty attracted by their clamor, went to investigate. Alarmed at her approach, the whole flock took wing with one movement - hundreds of birds. As they went up, the flock divided, one portion flying over my head. As they flew by, the soft rustle of their wings came down to me, and their bodies, like black stars twinkling, seen thru the branches of the cottonwood trees, was like a miracle of sound and sight. A soft damp wind was blowing from the southeast, whence shown a mist-dazed sun - blowing thru the rattling bleached out grasses; I stood still, afraid to move for fear of spoiling the magic of the moment.

A letter from Mrs. O’Hara with the color reproduction of my “Two houses under a bridge” which O’Hara is using in a book he is publishing.

Last night a letter from O’Connor telling me about my current one-man show at the Carnegie Institute.

Forgotten in my account of yesterday’s walk - shortly after passing the pussy willows, I found, or rather Spotty did, a horned Lark with a broken wing. I captured the poor creature with difficulty, and held it in my hand. It was a beautiful thing - with its soft brown pinks tones blending like changeable silk into slate gray, its black bands along the side of its head, and little horns. Aside from the wing it seemed perfectly well. I carried it awhile, thinking I would take it home to the children. But reflection told me that eventually I would have to let it loose for the cats, or kill it, and either procedure seemed undesirable. So I let it go, and it fluttered over the ground uttering plaintive cries.

PM. A soggy snow all afternoon-

The approach of a snow storm is fine to watch. A vague blue-gray mist in the west, deepening at the horizon, high up a vague gray-white opening, across which a flapping crow pass in sinister flight. Slate roofs are bleached out; their light color accented by the deep shadows under the eaves - an intangible ominous feeling. Then a few scattered flakes come threading their way through the air and seem like scouts sent out by the storm to determine whether all things are ready - apparently the time is not ripe for no more fall; the silence increases, and after a brief spell, a few more scouts are sent listlessly forth. Now it is all right and over the low buildings to the west a whole flurry of flakes appear (sic) and sweep silently on; and presently the air is full.

Bertha & Arthur & I to see Snow White - I enjoyed it more than the first time. Those flaws I noticed seemed to have lessened or disappeared.

I had the thought while watching it, that Walt Disney with his whimsical art will do more for the general peace & happiness of the world than all the propaganda and peace talk in the world; for to me it is inconceivable that a nation looking at such things could foster hate.

Charles E. Burchfield, March 11, 1938