Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, October 1, 1914

October 1, 1914.

A heavy white fog. The world ends at Bolger’s Barn; beyond lies a vast mist-hidden valley, up out of which comes the faint calls of robins, as if the fog condensing on the shining leaves, made music as they shattered on the ground. The sun, hour-high, finally breaks thru, and sends a studded shower of glinting drops over the trees and grass. There is no beauty quite so fairy-like as sunlight bursting a fog.  Like finely falling snow it is blown about by a breeze, now eastwards + now skywards.

On contemplating entering school again, I have the feeling of being about to enter a rainbow.

10:40.  By train to Cleveland. Scenery along the way a wonderland. There are just enough October reds + yellows in the trees to make a fine contrast to the green.

Sky intensely blue.  Sunlight intensely yellow. 

Woods along the road spewy with asters. Ponds + lakes along the way a deeper and more intense blue than the sky. Leaves blown up by the train-wind – no, they are sparrows.

Near Newbring great meadows of hardy phlox, a thrilling sight.

At once to our room.
Thru Wade Park to school.
Good to be back again.
Evening at Eastman’s.
Miss Mc - Miss B - Mrs. L - Bob + Travis + Joe.
Eastman shows summer sketches. Very nice.
Eastman also noticed the clouds last Friday.
A Jolly time.
Bob R - loves poetry and memorizes it.

Charles E. Burchfield, Vol. 20, October 1, 1914, pgs. 111 - 114