Bruce Shanks (1908-1980)

[inscription reads] " Leaves rustle noisily with millions of crickets. / Calm peaceful September afternoon. This is the ideal season. Not a cloud. Rose haze on a sky at horizon. / I think this is an extra sense – to see a squirrel running along the ground when busily sketching with eye in another direction. Worry flight. Sporting from tree to tree. Unaware of my presence. / Hear the spring warble of a bluebird – not the quavering cry. After looking in the woods in vain, I suddenly see a small scattered flock "