Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, Vol. 21, December 13, 1914

A bitterly cold night.
Morning strangely quiet and the landscape is a soft grey. Already nature has sensed the coming of the storm and crouches motionless. The air was as if the white-th [sic] of the snow already tinged it. The snow’s coming was beautiful — a fine sparse sugary fall hardly noticeable. This shortly ceased but in a while commenced again 111. and by noon the snow was at full tilt streaking the grey lands­cape in its calm silent down-flutter. From the southeast, it had a dampth [sic] that belongs only to the southeast, and clung softly to all objects, tho the trees expressed the true poetry of the occurrence, appearing as if their branches were lit up from above.
A storm like this is a momentous occasion. All afternoon it came down. Down down down and as I looked out the window I wondered it did not make a roaring sound. The silence!
Charles E. Burchfield, December 13, 1914