At one place I found a pile of bird feathers, strewn over the ground. They were mostly grey and white, but a few were of a dull orange, and I thought it had probably been a ground oriole. As I looked down at them I wondered what misfortune had befallen this creature, as it crept along the leaves. Was it a battle between two birds? Or more likely, a weasel spring out upon him and torn him into pieces? —
Picking up a perfect wing-feather, I carefully put it in my pocket and went on…
Charles Burchfield, March 26, 1911