Bruce Shanks (1908-1980)

[inscription reads] " turned trees against a deep blue sky, sunbeaten. / Feathery film of willow now - starspurred corn beyound (sic). / Humming resounding whirr of great flock of blackbirds blowing up from star-spottled blinding willows. Back and forth they fly. I wonder what disturbs them. They fly up in a solid mass of black twinkles when as tho (sic) the wind had struck them, they split & scatter like chaff, a thrilling sight, & now divided into smaller flocks, which criss-cross each other in a maze of twinkles. Presently I "