Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, November 15, 1938

The first snow, following a fine sunrise.

I realize for the first today, what my phonograph is going to mean to me.  Playing a number of the songs of [Mussorgsky]  I felt as tho he, [Mussorgsky] were in my studio, as tho I were communing with him.  This feeling I think could only come from my being entirely alone with the music.

A wierd (sic) effect at noon.  Darkness settled down over the earth – the sky was a think yellowish gray, a peculiar ominous color – light from the studio streamed out over the snow as at night, a last twilight – a flash or two of lightning, followed by deep hollow thunder – snow falling steadily.
(would this be like the first – or last rather – brief day at the Artic circle?)
I saw in my mind’s eye, the whole panorama of Fall, from the lurid October trees, thru the idyllic November sunlit days, to sudden winter.

Charles E. Burchfield, November 15, 1938