Charles Burchfield, April 19, 1911

By noon, the day had resigned itself to a long dreary rain. Steadily and with constant pattering the rain came down, making streets full of pools, roofs shiny; and the roads were broken by long ruts of shining water. The trees were covered with millions of glistening drops. Around which a vague smoky, rainy-day mist hovered. In every direction, angleworms were seen stretching their long bodies along the ground, reveling in the delicious, damp earth. At times, robins, with their feathers ruffled and wet, flew with startled cries through the air. To-day is the kind of day that sparrows seem to like to get out and quarrel. Mother and I were standing in the back porch when a discordant chattering called our attention to a bush down in the corner of the yard. A little flock of sparrows, unheeding the rain, were fighting in the bush and making a great racket about it. The all seemed to be after one bird and, when he flew down to the ground they rushed pell-mell after him, and after much pecking and chattering, they flew away one by one. The rainy weather did not make my chipping-sparrow dispirited, for presently he perched on his accustomed place on the wire and with the rain driving down on him thru the smoky air, he began to sing; and his song was cheerful.

Charles Burchfield, April 19, 1911