Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, September 19, 1914

Noticing how a noble row of poplars were becoming yellow leaved, I thought they were changing for autumn. Twinkling yellow against the sky. The morning breeze send a wave of yellow twinkles against the dappled sun-barred east. Almost instantly I saw that other poplars were unchanged, and then I saw the horrible girdles close to the ground. I winced as with bodily pain. Almost constantly leaves were falling, not jarred by the breeze. They were tears I doubt not as they fell heavily straight downward. Ground underneath yellow-speckled. Leaf-dotted ground. Leaf-starred lawns.

Charles Burchfield, September 19, 1914