Charles Burchfield, Journals, April 29, 1947

Another brilliant sunshiny morning—not so cool.

Most of the morning studying the cartoon I made yesterday.

At noon the day had changed—Thick masses of misty clouds, which seemed to intensify the sunlight, rather than dim it, by carrying it thru the whole atmosphere; even the shadows were full of a golden light. It seemed the ideal conditions for working on the reconstructed 1917 sketch of McCarty’s Barn—so I set up my easel, and immediately after lunch I commenced work.

On the way out I paused a moment to look at the hepaticas by the next door garage. They were in their full glory, open to the sun; one a rich shell pink, and another pale white with a soft blurred-edged shot of blueish lavender on each petal. Several honey bees at work on the flowers.

The air seemed full of pollen—and the hum of bees, The homely, cheerful sounds of chickens; songsparrows, & robins—

Worked until five by which time I was exhausted emotively & physically.

Evening B & I to Shea’s Seneca to see “Pursued” (Robert Mitchum & Theresa Wright)—a fine & very tense drama,—done at the turn of the century, and everything seemed so historically true; two half grown boys, with [n.d.] hair and nondescript clothes, seemed actually out of the past, and not the well-groomed boys of today masquerading, as is so often the case in most movies of another period.

Afterwards walk with P.O. with letters—Stop a moment at Mart & Hank’s (Art there to see about radio)—a soft mild night, a gentle rain falling.

Charles Burchfield, April 29, 1947