Summer attains its greatest dignity & power in August. In this dignity & power exist simultaneously a sinister quality, and a deeply mystical one. On one hand in point of time, is the luxuriant beauty of full-growing things, on the other, the lucid romanticism of Autumn. An August might be mysterious, and has something terrifying about it – the black night following the hot misty white day, is broken by nervous flashes of heat lightning, dancing in the dark northern sky. Trees become huge black abstract masses.
Charles E. Burchfield, Journals, August 23, 1926