Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, August 5, 1913

…A typical August night.  Cool, uncomfortably so. Dark starry sky with the milky way unusually clear; deep silence with the exception of the constant rhythmic chorus of a myriad tree-crickets, which sound like the steady thrum thrum of the heart. What a feeling of loneliness they inspire! When I was a boy they made me imagine all sorts of direful things. Now they give me the “blues” —the inexplicable kind. They seem to keep perfect time with each other. By listening very closely we sometimes can imagine we hear one at odds with the others. But it is best to listen easily, otherwise we miss that steady throbbing which is the best part. As I listen, their singing seems to send my senses in an up and down movement—up and down—up and down—constant and unending.

 Charles E. Burchfield, August 5, 1913