Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, August 16, 1914

Now that I am here I cannot tell what is in the wind - and this is indeed its greatest charm, like the woman in love-stories. Oh the pleasure of lying on a wind buffeted hill, hours of dreamy idleness! We scarce know when we leave it what thought we have been thinking. And its not that we think so much as we dream, tho our dreams be vague as the haze in the air, woven, perhaps from it. One who sits in the wind can never entertain low thoughts - for once the eternal war between the spiritual + animal man is at rest - with the spiritual man supreme.

Charles Burchfield's Journals

Sunday August 16, 1914