Charles Burchfield, Journals, December 30, 1963

Last night—up at 3:00—the moon just past the zenith (to the west)—very brilliant and cold—the shadows of trees on the moonlit snow—I thought of remote woodlands and pastures under a winter moon, and how such things seem so far away, and remote for me, and how I would love to experience again a walk in the country under such a moon—

In just a short time, the earth’s shadow would start to creep over it, towards a total eclipse—But I was much too sleepy to stay up to see it.

Today again, the moon, startlingly clear and incandescent, is riding up to the zenith, almost exactly overhead—It is a winter.

The days new are definitely getting longer now—I love Autumn, and the year going downhill, but when the sun starts back on its long journey to the summer solstice, there is a lift to my spirit—a buoyancy reborn.

Charles Burchfield, December 30, 1963