Charles E. Burchfield Journals, May 1, 1935

I dreamt quite a lot last night. Most of it is vague, but one thing remains—someone said to me “you ought to go back to those old interpretations of nature moods again” and at once I was standing on a street, near the edge of a strange town; it was raining late Summer, and the reflections in the wet side-walk of a group of maples, seemed inexpressively beautiful and filled me with a yearning sadness, as if it were something irrevocably gone.

Charles Burchfield, May 1, 1935