Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, June 22, 1962

June 22 – Friday —

As it did not seem likely that anyone would show up to work on the kitchen today, we decided to “run away” and go down into the country –

I ordered sandwiches from Creans, which we picked up and were soon on our way.

At first I thought we might go to the Old Meeting-House north of Otto, but after we were on the way it seemed too far, so we then headed for our favorite spot on the Townsend Road. Here, however, we found the Erie Co. Hwy. workers with several trucks at work on the road.

So we continued on south on 219 to a point where the road had been bulldozed through a dense woods. Here Bertha suggested we stop. No shade was needed for the sun was all but obscured by a thick layer of dappled cloud – Sunlight was felt to present everywhere, but not actually seen — We got our chairs out easily, but the table seemed too deeply buried to bother getting out — so we had to balance things on our laps. However, we enjoyed ourselves greatly – Highlight of the meal were luscious big “black” cherries.
It was a wonderfully satisfying hour – We had noticed on the way down, and and [sic] were surrounded by similar evidences that the season was far in advance of “normal” — chicory in quantity, pink and white mallow, and a beautiful pink member of the pea family, similar in growth & leaf to alfafa — black-eyed susans, all kinds of clover, wheat turning slightly yellow, hay being cut, elders in full blossom — all these belonging to early July.

We enjoyed watching the various insects busy here — orange-tan and brown skippers, 4 or 5 of them; tiny young grasshoppers; a miniature tree-frog, and beautiful small dragon-flies with invisible wings, rich cerulean at the head graduating to metallic emerald blue green at the tail, the brilliant color cut by narrow segments of dark gray — these were a delight to watch.

From the depths of the woods close by a wood-thrush sang intermittently. Once a “blue” (butterfly) fluttered in erratic flight past us.

After our lunch we crossed the road to look into the woods beyond where there were a lot of dead trees. We caught sight of what seemed in shape to be fleabane but so deep a pink as to make us wonder. Bertha went down and it turned out to be fleabane, she picked a spray of it, then added other flowers to make a bouquet.
From here we drove through the Zoar Valley – here we were sickened and angered by the sight of dead and dying plants, bushes and even trees, killed by a poison spray that extended ten or more feet on each side of the road — Whatever reason there might be to have a main highway clear of any obstructions such as grass or weeds, there is no such reason here in this valley — This road is not “going anywhere” it is merely a means of wandering by car through a wild tract of land, one of whose chief attractions is the varied plant life to be seen along the way — So [if] all the plant-life is killed what do we have? A bit of asphalt between two strips of barren brown waste land. * See page 265 –

[*Add to Zoar Valley episode –

At one point we saw a pair of indigo birds on the road, evidently seeking insects hit by cars, and later on, rather large flocks of the most brilliant gold-finches – flashes of yellow and black in and out of the bushes. I could not help but wonder what their fate might be if they got some poisoned seeds.]

— Charles E. Burchfield, June 22, 1962