From a hilltop, I looked a while to the east, for sheer ecstasy. I heard but did not see a blue-bird, but in looking for it I saw the blue of a slate bank on a hillside; and I remembered then the blue clay I used to gather & play with as a boy. How it all became suddenly vivid—the raw gray days in March, the calls of blue-birds, the dripping water from ice covered banks.
Charles E. Burchfield, April 6, 1938