Charles Burchfield, Journals, June 11, 1922

To be inside of a building shut in from the outdoors, sometimes only makes the outdoors more vivid.

Here in the church the sights & sounds from the outdoors that leaked in only made the morning more vivid thru the way it “stung” my imagination—one window to the north was half open, thru which I could see (and hear) the wind-“shattered” mass of maple leaves—the ripples over it were cold, & the depths green—the whole outdoors became a vast area of dark masses of maple trees & black cavities—thunder commenced to boom from a distance & brought to the mind’s eye a blue-black sky with the whitened tops of wind-turned trees against it—the dashing rain; and then just outside of a partly open window to the south, a leak in the spout sent down a noisy clatter of water—the sun suddenly came out & struck squarely on this window producing a sudden yellow glare in the church—the hurrying clouds turned this on & off in a rapid succession of flashes—

Charles Burchfield, June 11, 1922