The dream –
I dreamt [it] was the close of a day in February or March.
Spring was in the air, it seemed like an equinox storm that was hastening the dusk – I started out for a walk; the afterglow seemed to tinge the sky for a moment, and song sparrows sang to the sunrise.
In the rainy dusk as I came home I composed rare weirdly discordant music for a strange scene which showed the gradual dusk in a fearful woods. At the climax a slim maiden glided out clad in simple white, the music was a quaint tinkle-tinkle.
Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, February 1, 1917