Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, February 24, 1954

*First crows / Out to the “Big Woods” painting altho a slight drizzle was falling – heard the first “Cawing” of crows at dawn. 

My long pent-up longing to paint out in the woods made me anticipate the excursion with great joy – I sang as I drove southwards. 

The devastation wrought by the work of lumbermen last year did not seem so tragic this year, because I suppose, I was prepared for it now. No additional cutting has been done and already Nature has begun to absorb the debris of treetops and other discarded material, and make it seem part of the scene – So that my beloved woods had much of its former grim Spirit of the North. It was good to be back.

Filled still with the mood evoked by the disturbing thoughts of the night before last, I sought a scene that would embody the idea of Psalm, “Out of the depths I cry to thee” – following the rough sort of lane or trail made by the wood-cutters tractor, I found a suitable spot in the ravine, some distance from the road. Carrying my gear to the place required three trips (as I had to have my umbrella) – and at the end I was sweating profusely and [almost] exhausted. Nevertheless I set up the easel, and made a rough outline on the paper before lunch, using a note I had made last year, of light coming down from above into a deep ravine.

            Just as I was about to get into the car, I happened to look up into the sky, and saw a small flock of geese headed north in their characteristic V formation – A sight that never fails to thrill me.

            By the time I had finished my lunch I felt refreshed and rested, and set out for my painting with eagerness. Light rain still falling; but I had protected myself with a plastic rain-coat – 

Worked several hours with great absorption, and energy, working more or less “in the dark” not knowing whether I was getting anywhere or not, but keeping always in my mind the central idea – “Out of the depths” and the frown of an angry God. I had wanted so much to paint just like this – under the most trying conditions to prove to myself I could still do it. What will I do when at last I am too old to work under such stress? I think perhaps I will try it anyhow, and gladly accept the risk of dying in the attempt. 

There was little suggestion of spring in the woods – few sounds either – At times the distant cawing of crows, once a nut-hatch, and again the angry chatter of a squirrel or chipmunk; and finally, the subdued murmur of the brook at my feet. As the afternoon wore on the rain changed to sleet and fine snow. I observed how such a snow first becomes visible at the very base of trees and stumps, so that they appear like white eyes, overshadowed by intense black lids. 

After I had finished, I was fairly chilled thru, so that the exertion of carrying my material to the car proved a welcome warming up process, even if as before, tiring. 

Before leaving for home, I drank the rest of the coffee and had with it a sandwich of date-nut bread, and cream cheese. I was unable to resist opening a can of cashew nuts and having some.

The drive home not very interesting, for even the middle distance was almost obscured by fog.

Home about 5:30. 

When I told Bertha about the idea back of my painting, she tried hard to see in it, what I had aimed at. But I think I arrived at another mood; a spiritual quality perhaps, but one only of deep mystery. There are moods that cannot be translated into visual art.

Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, Vol. 55, February 24, 1954