Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, Vol. 31, October 8, 1917

A dream –

Working someplace to the north of here; a channel like depression in the earth with a few woods; a trolley line took us home at night, in my spare time I painted having brought my materials along; one I sketched was the weird setting sun thru the doorway of a deserted house; towards evening when everyone seemed getting ready to go home, I noticed in the hot yellow afterglow; bluebirds clinging to an old board fence; they seemed asleep and I was able to pick them off and put them in my pocket, thunder was heard rumbling; in the gathering gloom I noticed a kite in the sky, then more + more appeared  it seemed as if the boys flying them had lost control of them on the strings sagged low over the earth, I was able to gather them all together in my hand. The kites were falling, I gave the string a jerk and stepped back a few paces; they spring up in the air again radiating from my hand; I was considering whether to tie all the strings together for a joke when the six o’clock car whistled. 

Charles E. Burchfield, Vol. 31, October 8, 1917