Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, Vol. 44, September 12, 1942

A vibrant whirring from behind and above the shed announced the flight of blackbirds, probably assembling for the Autumnal flight south— The west was streaked with distant falling rain; and I thought of the birds flying toward it, and wondered how it would feel to them to suddenly fly into a shower—and I thought of their long flight south, and dreamed as I did as a boy, that it would be fun to be one of them, and set out on the long journey over the wide September fields and valleys, and how cozy it would be to be one of a great flock of one’s comrades.
Charles E. Burchfield, September 12, 1942