Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, June 3, 1914

Off at 6:00 Eastern time. Sky obscured by mists. Sun shines dimly. All things in a grand harmony of mist and dew. Grass is white; trees sparkle in a scarcely noticeable breeze.

Meadowlarks whistle in Three-Tree territory. Bobolinks. The walk down painter road attended with many things. The three blackbirds. Liquid whistle. One bird a puzzler. Hear him in a tall cherry-tree. Three distinct calls. One identical with Flicker’s. Another similar but rasping. Third a single note - clear and bell-like - like French siren. A stone causes him to fly out but I can get no view of him. Flies ahead of me down the road but I am unable to get near him. Finally disappears.

See what I think is indigo bird. It flies away in the wind over a wheat-field.

See “puzzler” again. A bird slightly smaller than robin.- Breast, throat and undertail white, back light olive brown.

Beauty of mists in Dutchman’s Cigar mountain blue. Just curling edges of trees visible as struck by sun’s rays. Looking directly towards sun, the trees seem like Sheets of variously tinted green paper set one behind the other.

Mists seem poured out by sun’s rays. Beauty of whitish green locusts against opaque sky. The road beyond more secluded - edged with trees. “Millions” of birds. Flickers, chewink, song-sparrows, blue-jays, cardinals, many unfamiliar ones - these are but the ones I “heard” Hear unfamiliar bird call - not unlike the sound of a squeaky windmill tho without that harshness. I proceeded in the direction of the tree whence came the call, but had not gone far when it’s author took alarm and flew to the south. Presently hear call again I look and barely distinguish him on a dead tree to the south. He flies up and starts to his original perch, calling as he goes. I discern smaller bird chasing it, and the chase continues after they reach the tree. The large bird finally flies out with something in its beak. Its beak + head suggests a hawk and its size a sparrow-hawk.

Hear a nuthatch.

Proceed thru Millville. Come to first turning off. This road a sheltered one, trees hug the road which is little used. The sulphurous Beaver with its dewladen banks shows yellow below. Road bank beautifully overgrown with horse-tail and firepink.

Beauty of worm-eaten elm. It was a peculiar elm, for trunks + large limbs instead of being free, was covered with tiny bunches of leafy twigs. The worms have left little more than the veins and gives the tree a lacy fuzzy look - rather fairylike.

While sitting here a pair of catbirds grew anxious and eye me suspiciously “meowing” the while. A wood thrush gives “yodeling call.” Nothing quite so beautiful. Sounds as if a bell made from the silver under the dewdrop on a jewelweed was made to ring by a drop of dew falling from an arrowhead flower. It would have to be done early in the morning, of course. It has infinite varieties. More than any bird song it makes one stay - the inflections are so beautiful that we stay on and on, hearing more and more beautiful combinations. Nor does he seem to repeat himself.

A grosbeak sings. Cowbell and mooing of cows. Blung of frog. Get up to see grosbeak. His throat seems as tho it were cut and the crimson blood slowly spreads over his breast.

Catch sight of indigo bird. Get up to see him; he makes cht! sound common to most birds whence alarmed. Size - between songs sparrow and wren. Sings twice a sweet song, and seems to be a combination of the songsparrows and yellowbirds.

The mists have disappeared and the sun is climbing. I start out. Approach farm dwelling. all the familiar farm sounds. Robin, Oriole in apple tree facing the sun. Pigs. Calf bawls, turkey gobbles.'

Flicker gives a call similar to nuthatch. Chipmunk. While stopping to look at rattlesnake plantain patch see cranefly attached to plant by a web, which held him secure despite his heroic efforts to free himself with his wings. I wondered why he did not leave his leg behind him as they an do when picked up by a person. I freed him.

See American mocking bird long bill - body somewhat like catbird a little larger. Breast throat + tail dingy white. Back etc olive brown.

Road starts uphill. Hear Tseerie call. wood pecker. Cicada like bird call - it is a trill uttered so rapidly that it sounds like buzzing. Cannot espy author. Road abounds with wood nymphs, small meadow frittilaries, coppers, and skipper basking in the sun.

The second turn. The character of the land changes. More open. Trees sparse. The sun is higher, warmer and brighter. Less com¬panions. Songsparrow, bobolink meadowlark but only rarely. Sound of wind in young oats. Crickets The distant train whistle and puffing of engine. I always associ¬ate them with cowbells & early morning in blackberrying time. The bluebird. Proceeding directly into sun makes all things blary, The swallow.

The redwinged blackbirds. Male keeps in continuous flight almost over my head uttering the “cht” call, interspersing it with a clear piercing whistle that sounded like the scraping of steel. Female on fence. Another male comes on telephone pole and sings. I wonder where mist is for there is no swamp here, tho it is low, and may have been during the spring rains. White-shouldered bobolink sits on wire and sings. His main desire seems to be to sing, no matter how. Field here beautiful with great clumps of sheep-sorrel and patches of pinking clover.

Country school house. Beauty of locusts. Farmhouse. Blue-bird sings.

Rising breeze from the southeast. What is the cool odor it brings Perhaps a compound of the sun, the sky, locusts, freshly tilled ground and wheat bloom. I stand under oak. It blows hard and cool and sounds fine in the branches. Bluebird flies down to ground to devour worm

Bluer in flight.

Forego next turn off. That road was familiar, while to keep on would lead into unknown territory. Road dips down and runs thru outskirts of woods. Very cool here + the sound of the wind in the trees is most pleasing. The road is at the top of one bank of a hollow. Woods free of underbrush and looks inviting.
Proceed. The Cicada. Has a different sound. No crescendo - a steady metallic buzz. The squirrel. His agility causes admiration. Glides up tree like a streak. Runs from tree-top like a bird.
Chewink, Tseerie, Redbird Crows cawing in distance. Cicad¬as add heat to the air. Tiger swallow tails numerous. The breeze increases.

Come to where the road is lined on both sides for quite ways with white locust-trees. The air resounds with the vibrant hum of countless bees. A wonderful sound. The air full of the intoxicating scent and falling dead bloom thrown down by wind. What an amount of life and busyness it represents:
The road ascends a hill into open country again. The road banks high and overgrown with young elders, blackberries and seeding panicum grass.

The pair of sparrow-hawks

In flight look like large swallows. Road becomes winding and takes southeasterly course. Find a little crippled sparrow.

Crossing railroad I come to bridge. It is a small creek but for some reason has widened-out here. Foam spotted. Alive with minnows of all sizes. I amuse myself spitting down to them. See two watersnakes. A butterfly - whose shadow startles minnows. Sit down on stone slab in the shade of an elm. A redwing calls overhead. Orchard to the south full of the cries of common blackbirds.

Come to third turn. Uneventful for I have proceeded but a few 14. rods when fourth turn presents itself. This road seems little used Leads up over steep hill. Arriving at summit I sit down under a cherry tree. Height invigorating. Wooded hills to the west visible in overlapping order for miles. Eat lunch. Continue. Road goes thru short woods out into open again

View to east one of overlapping hills orchards, farm buildings.

The road on one side for some distance is laced yellow with spotted cow-bane. Stop under cherry tree - Ground brown with fallen bloom + unfertilized cherries. Tree shows promise of pretty good crop.

Fifth turn. My shadow short but still to the west of me. Hear no birds. Cats paw aplenty going to seed. Beauty of orange fungus growth on blackberry brambles. Mist blued + dimed distances beautiful.
Come to fork in road. Take east road. Pass thru woods whose shade is tempting. Sheep. This road a delightful wind one - more than common. No fences fields come right out to road - this is ideal. Come to Greenford road. Soon leave it for Columbiana. Canfield Road. It is noon. Majesty of noon. The hot white road reflects heat. Things seem at standstill.

Continue on road. Come to point of a Y. I retrace back on different road. Which is leading directly south. The charm of noon is to sit down under a tree and look up at sky thru sparkling leaves to see sun and feel the cool wind blowing. The woods even is silent except for the fitful calling of a few solitary birds. The wind is a thing of life tho! All around us is quiet and we hear it roaring in distant trees. And gradually then it comes closer and closer.

Sky covered with long haphazard streaks of cloud.

Meadows of buttercups – the flower of noon.
Come again to Greenford road. A brown thrasher sings. Turn to Covered Bridge road. Dulled by the heat. The blacksnake on Painter Rd. What report of rattlesnake typifies. Home. Hot sponge-off.

Charles Burchfield, June 3, 1914